Urban System in America

The anger in him simmered, low and steady, like coals refusing to die down. Maybe it was the previous Rex's lingering resentment bleeding into his veins. Maybe it was just him, pissed off at the sheer injustice of it all. Didn't matter. The line between their emotions was blurred anyway. What mattered was that right now… he was furious.

And fury demanded an outlet.

He clenched his fists, staring at the empty lobby around him. The company his parents had built, swiped away by vultures wearing family names and friendly smiles. Just the thought of it made his stomach twist. He couldn't shake the image of a grieving kid being cornered, pushed, suffocated until selling felt like mercy… and now they sat comfortably on something his parents built from nothing.

I'll snatch it back.

The thought struck like lightning, raw and undeniable.

The company. The legacy. The name that had been stolen, dirtied, and paraded around by parasites.

Just then—

Ding!

The familiar crisp chime rang in his head, cutting clean through the storm of his thoughts.

[New Mission Activated]

Objective: Reclaim your parents' company.

Requirement: Achieve acquisition at the lowest possible cost.

Rating System: The cheaper the takeover, the higher the reward.

Bonus: Hidden rewards may unlock depending on strategy.

He blinked. Then a slow grin tugged at his lips. "Hah. You really do know how to show up at the perfect time."

He leaned back into the sofa, arms spread lazily across the backrest, but his eyes gleamed sharp.

"Lowest cost, huh? Heh. You're really spoiling me here. Dropping free prizes on my lap."

Reject? Why would he ever reject? This wasn't just about free system rewards. This was about something far juicier… vengeance.

Not dramatic vengeance where he screamed to the sky or swore blood oaths. No. This was the kind of revenge that made his pulse race and his grin stretch wider.

A silent war. A game of knives in the shadows.

He accepted instantly.

"Accepted," he muttered instantly, almost laughing as the words left his mouth.

The system's neutral confirmation tone followed, but his own mind was already racing. Lowest cost? That was fine by him. Honestly, it sounded more like a game than a mission. Didn't matter if it was pennies on the dollar or a hostile takeover in disguise—he was going to drag that company back under his name.

If the old Rex had been too young, too naïve, had been forced to sell because of pressure, and betrayal, and had been too grief-stricken to fight back, then fine. That wasn't him. That wasn't this Rex.

He had the system. He had foresight. He had no sentimental chains.

Most importantly? He had the hunger.

"Alright," he muttered, voice low but steady, almost tasting the words as they left his lips. "Let's take back what's mine. Piece by piece."

You snakes wanted the company so badly? Enjoy your seats while they last. 'Cause I'm coming back for it. And I don't care if I take it piece by piece, or rip it out of your hands all at once…"

His grin widened.

"…It's mine."

His hand curled into a fist against his knee, not with nervousness, but with a quiet thrill.

Because this wasn't going to be a clean fight.

And he didn't mind getting dirty.

He leaned back against the sofa, letting out a slow breath. His chest still felt heavy, but at least the fire inside wasn't eating him alive anymore.

"Anyway…" he muttered to himself, rubbing his face. "This is gonna be a long-term thing. No need to get worked up like some hot-blooded idiot."

He chuckled dryly. Right now, he had nothing. No power, no money, no connections. Just a roof over his head and this weird-ass system. He can't just storm in and shout, 'Hey, hand it back.' Charging in headfirst would only get him stomped flat before he even made it two steps."

"Step one," he said quietly. "Figure out who's who. What the company looks like now. Who's sitting where. Who's pulling the strings."

"So, first things first…" His eyes narrowed slightly. "Information. Before I even think about taking anything back, I need to know who's sitting in those seats now. "Figure out who's who. What the company looks like now. Who's sitting where. Who's pulling the strings. Who stabbed me… or, well, stabbed the old Rex in the back."

His mind wandered back to the voices he had just overheard. The bitterness in their tone wasn't fake… it was the kind of thing only people who had seen everything could say. If even these small employees knew how dirty things had gone down, then the truth must've been ten times uglier higher up.

Family swooping in. Loyal managers flipping sides. People smiling while they stabbed you in the back.

Yeah. He had been naïve before. This time, he wouldn't make the same mistake.

The system hadn't given him a deadline. That alone was a blessing. No countdown timer over his head, no pressure forcing him into reckless moves. He didn't need to rush. Didn't need to gamble. He could take his time, gather info, plan properly.

"Slow and steady," Rex whispered, almost like he was reassuring himself. "Nobody's expecting me anyway. Which makes it the perfect cover."

He smirked, a sharp little grin etched on his face.

He needed information. About the company, about the people who had replaced him, about the ones who had betrayed him. There was no point fantasizing about revenge without knowing the battlefield.

"Power? Connections? I don't got 'em," Rex muttered under his breath. His hands slipped into his pockets, and his eyes sharpened. "But info? Info I can get."

He has the largest security company in the city backing him. Their eyes and ears were everywhere…. banks, hotels, airports, corporate towers. Every guard, every camera, every confidential file was one word away from his desk. With that kind of network, digging up dirt had been child's play.

Of course, brute force was always an option too. He could picture it now: a hundred men in black storming the building, seizing the offices, dragging out the so-called 'directors' by their collars. The image alone made his blood pump.

But he shook his head almost instantly. That was fantasy. Not reality.

"This isn't some lawless wasteland," he whispered. "It's a civilized society… or at least it pretends to be."

On the surface, there were rules. Regulations. Courts. Police. The kind of structure that kept wolves like him on a leash. If you didn't have enough strength to break the leash, you were forced to wear it.

And right now, he wasn't strong enough. Not yet.

His jaw tightened. He hated the admission, but denying it would only get him killed faster. To win, he had to play the long game. He had to walk the line, stay low, and build. Slowly. Quietly. Like poison in a glass of wine.

Rex's reflection shimmered faintly on a glass window nearby. The faint grin on his face looked cruel in the dark.

"Once I have that…" His voice dropped to a whisper, more like a promise than words.

The grin widened.

"…then we'll see who's laughing when the pieces start moving."

The air felt colder suddenly, but inside, Rex was burning.

(End of Chapter)