The Garbaggio Hotel

Nobody comes to The Garbaggio Hotel by choice. And yet, the guests keep arriving — shuffling through lobbies of questionable carpet, past amenities that technically exist, into rooms that meet the bare legal definition of "habitable." Your job isn't hospitality. It's extraction.

Tapping generates income, upgrades automate it, and before long you've built a towering monument to minimum effort and maximum profit. New floors unlock with enough cash, each one stranger and more lucrative than the last. The guests have opinions about this. Their opinions don't matter.

A prestige system called Renovation Credits eventually resets your progress in exchange for permanent multipliers — the hotel gets marginally less awful, but the numbers get dramatically larger. It's a loop that rewards patience and mild ruthlessness in equal measure. Somehow, despite everything, it's hard to stop building.