Urban System in America

By the time he reached the university, his veins still hummed, his body buzzing with the aftershock of joy. He slowed at the gates, and even at a crawl the Ferrari stole the spotlight.

But compared to the Regalia, this was tame. Almost modest.

The Regalia wasn't a car, it was a monster… the kind of machine that screamed old money and old power, a relic that whispered of dynasties and oil tycoons. The sort of vehicle billionaires didn't even drive but parked in glass fortresses just to gloat about owning something the world couldn't touch.

It was too much, even for him. Hell, he didn't even know the exact price, just that it was well over ten million and not something you could snag with a swipe of a black card. Exclusive didn't even begin to cover it.

The Ferreri, though? A mere two million. Practically down-to-earth in comparison. Still ridiculous money, still the kind of dream ninety-nine percent of people never touched outside a video game, but at least… approachable. If the Regalia was a crown jewel meant for kings, this was a blade … sharp, dangerous, flashy, but something you could actually swing, if you work your ass off (Not that kind of work, you pervs, serious kind of work).

At least in Rex's eyes. For everyone else, it was still a rolling fantasy. A car torn straight out of glossy spreads, Internet videos, and bedroom posters… suddenly alive, roaring, and parked in front of their university.

By the time the gates loomed into view, heads were already swiveling. Students strolling across campus slowed, then stopped outright. Conversations cut mid-word, replaced by the guttural roar of the Daytona as it crawled through the entrance.

Phones shot up instantly, a forest of glowing screens tracking him. Some shouted to friends across the quad, others sprinted closer just to catch a glimpse. The Ferreri's exhaust growl reverberated against lecture halls and dorm walls, daring anything else in earshot to even try sounding half as alive.

When Rex pulled into the lot, the effect multiplied. The concrete amplified every rev, every subtle growl, until it felt like the car was snarling at the entire university. Students rushed over, sneakers squeaking on pavement, their voices rising in chaotic disbelief.

He killed the engine, and silence fell for one surreal heartbeat — then the dam burst.

"Yo, what the hell is that?!"

"Holy shit, is that a Ferreri Daytona?!"

"Bro, no way, that's the Icona series! I saw this on Top Gear!"

"I thought only 600 of those existed in the world…"

"Not 600, idiot, 599! It's limited!"

"Wait—aren't those like, two million minimum?!"

"Who the fuck drives that here?!"

Even professors peeking out from faculty windows froze, papers forgotten in their hands. Some probably hadn't even known what the hell a Daytona was until this moment, but the price tag alone was enough to pin their jaws to the floor.

The crowd thickened within seconds, a wall of students pressing closer, their eyes gleaming with a mix of envy, awe, and raw hunger. To them, the crimson hypercar wasn't just a vehicle… it was akin to a mythical dragon, and Rex had just stepped onto campus riding it.

The crowd swelled like a tide as the Ferreri hissed to a stop, its scarlet body gleaming under the noon sun. Rex stayed seated for a beat, letting the moment breathe, as he recovered from intense emotions. On the surface, he was all calm detachment, hand steady as it unlatched the door. Inside though? His chest was still rattling with the roar of the engine, his pulse jackhammering like he'd just sprinted the length of the campus.

Finally, steadying himself. The butterfly door arced upward, slicing the air like a blade, and that was it… the dam broke. The swarm collapsed in, phones flashing, voices spiking, students pressing forward like moths desperate to immolate themselves on fire. For a split-second Rex considered just sitting back down and driving off, because getting out of this in one piece? That seemed like a miracle.

The boys hit first, vibrating in place, necks craning to soak in every inch of carbon-fiber beauty. They fired off specs like human machine guns, half-shouting over each other.

"Daytona SP3! Limited freakin' series!"

"Look at that diffuser, holy shit, that's real carbon fiber!"

"Two million easy! Nah, more with the markup, bro, more!"

It was a nerd-off at maximum volume.

The girls… well, didn't give a damn about carbon fiber, downforce or horsepower. Their eyes were locked on him. Rex, sliding out like some movie star stepping off set, One leg swung out, polished shoe kissing the pavement. Then the other, all slow and deliberate, like he was stepping down from another plane of existence. Rex rose smoothly, frame unfolding, jacket catching the light as if the damn sun itself was trying to spotlight him.

The scene detonated.

Shrieks. Gasps. A couple of "Oh my God"s that came out as broken whispers, like the air had been knocked out of them. Even the car nerds stumbled, their mouths half-open, specs dying mid-sentence as the reality of Rex standing there registered.

He kept his expression level, cool as frost. Eyes hidden behind shades, jaw set like this was routine. His hands slid casually into his pockets… a man stepping out of a Ferrari like he'd done it a hundred times.

Inside, though, his pulse thudded like a bass drum. Every scream, every camera flash was gasoline on the fire crackling in his chest. Feeling the crush of attention, the sheer weight of hundreds of eyes locked onto him… it was intoxicating. Overwhelming. Addictive.

A hand grabbed his arm, another brushed his chest, fingers grazing too boldly for comfort. He slipped through, lips twitching in a restrained smile. Play it cool, Rex. Play it cool.

Rex, with his unfairly sharp jawline, messy hair that somehow looked deliberate, and an aura that screamed untouchable.Even the ones who usually clung to their aloof, I'm-too-good-for-this act? Yeah, they weren't fooling anyone now. They leaned in, wide-eyed, phones angled toward his face like catching one shot of him was rarer than the Ferreri behind him.

(End of Chapter)