Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!
Chapter 439 - 439: The Seeker at the Gates

The uber driver's hands trembled on the steering wheel as they approached the wrought iron gates that stretched across what appeared to be an entire hillside in Beverly Hills.

What had started as a routine fare had transformed into something that made his primitive human instincts scream warnings about places where mortals weren't meant to tread.

"Lady, you sure about this address?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly as he stared at the massive gates before them. "This place... it's like a whole damn village up there?"

Karen adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses with shaking fingers, her reflection in the lenses showing eyes rimmed with red from weeks of sleepless nights and relentless investigation. Her black hair hung in greasy strands around a face that had aged years in the span of days, stress etching lines around her eyes that no twenty-eight-year-old should possess.

Her rumpled jacket—the same one she'd been wearing for three days straight—bore coffee stains and the accumulated grime of someone who had forgotten that basic human needs like eating and sleeping still applied to her.

"This is it," she whispered, clutching a battered laptop bag against her chest like a shield. "The Nyxlith Palace? Clinge!"

The gates themselves were massive, stretching at least thirty feet high and easily a hundred feet across, their intricate ironwork creating gaps large enough to see through but too narrow for anything larger than a hand to pass. Through those gaps, Karen could see what lay beyond—and her programmer's logical mind struggled to process the visual data.

It wasn't just a mansion. It was a village. A sprawling complex of buildings that seemed to flow organically across the artificially raised hillside like some impossible fusion of medieval castle and modern city. She could see people moving between the structures—figures engaged in various activities that looked both mundane and extraordinary from this distance.

"Holy shit," the driver breathed, pressing his face closer to the windshield. "Is that... are those people flying?"

Karen squinted through the gate's gaps and felt her mouth fall open.

Indeed, some of the figures moving through the complex appeared to be airborne, gliding between buildings with the casual ease of people walking down stairs. Others seemed to be engaged in activities that defied easy categorization—groups gathered around what might have been gardens that glowed with their own inner light, individuals practicing movements that left trails of energy in the air behind them.

"Twenty-seven fifty," the driver said quickly, his voice tight with the need to conclude this transaction and escape whatever cosmic wrongness emanated from this place.

Karen fumbled in her jacket pocket, producing crumpled bills that she thrust at him without counting. Her eyes remained fixed on the activity visible through the gates, watching what appeared to be a normal afternoon in a place where normal had been redefined by forces beyond human comprehension.

The moment the money touched his palm, the driver hit the gas, his sedan speeding away with the desperate urgency of someone fleeing a situation his lizard brain couldn't categorize as anything but supernatural.

Not knowing the moment he left he'll forget everything.

Karen approached the entrance slowly, her laptop bag bumping against her hip with each step. Through the gaps in the ironwork, she could see more details of the impossible community beyond. Teenagers—or beings that appeared to be teenagers—played games that involved manipulating light with their bare hands.

Adults conversed in groups while reality seemed to bend slightly around their conversations.

Cedric had been just seventeen. A good kid who had witnessed something that human eyes weren't meant to see. His death had led her here, to this place that existed in Beverly Hills but operated according to rules that had nothing to do with human civilization.

"I know you're in there, Parker Black," she whispered to the impossible village beyond the gates. "I know what you guys did to my Cedric. I know what you are."

As if responding to her words, the massive gates began to swing open with a sound like reality being gently adjusted to accommodate her presence.

Before she could step forward, two figures appeared at the entrance—not walking from within the compound, but simply materializing as though they had been waiting in dimensions adjacent to normal space.

The first was a teenager who couldn't have been older than seventeen, with perfectly styled black hair and designer clothes that probably cost more than Karen's monthly rent. Under normal circumstances, she would have radiated the kind of spoiled rich girl energy that made people instinctively roll their eyes—all expensive accessories and practiced poise that spoke of private schools and trust funds.

But today, something was different. Her usual brightness was dimmed, her energetic demeanor replaced by an uncharacteristic quietness that suggested yesterday's events had shaken even someone accustomed to impossible luxuries.

"You must be Karen," she said softly, her voice lacking its typical cheerful confidence. "I'm Annabelle. We've been expecting you."

Beside her stood a woman in her mid-twenties with same dark hair pulled back in a practical ponytail. Her clothing was simple but well-made, and she carried herself with the calm authority of someone who had learned to navigate complex situations with diplomatic grace.

Her eyes held a depth that suggested she'd seen more of the world's darker realities than her young appearance would indicate.

"Elena," the second woman introduced herself with a measured nod. "They sent us to bring you inside before you did something that might accidentally trigger the defensive systems—ultimately, your death!."

Karen stared at them both, her grief-sharpened determination warring with the sudden understanding that she had stepped into a situation far more complex than simple revenge.

"Come," Annabelle said quietly, her usual spoiled-princess energy completely absent as she extended her hand. "There's much to discuss, and standing at the threshold serves no one's interests."

Karen stared at the two women who had materialized from nowhere, her grip tightening on her laptop bag as every survival instinct she possessed screamed warnings.

The casual way they'd simply appeared—not walking, not approaching, just suddenly existing where empty space had been moments before—made her acutely aware that she was dealing with beings who could probably erase her from existence with the same effort most people used to swat flies.

But Cedric's face flashed in her mind—seventeen years old, bright smile, dreams of changing the world through code—and her fear crystallized into something harder, sharper.

"Cut the bullshit," she said, her voice trembling but defiant. She pushed her glasses up her nose with a shaking finger, leaving a smudge on the lens. "I'm not here for whatever diplomatic tea party you're planning. I want answers."

Annabelle's perfectly composed expression didn't change. The black haired teenager looked at Karen with the kind of bored indifference that came from having more important things to worry about than a grieving mortal's demands.

"Karen, I understand you're upset—" Elena began with practiced diplomatic calm.

"Upset?" Karen's laugh was sharp, bitter, edged with the kind of hysteria that came from weeks of sleepless investigation and grief. "My little brother is dead. Seventeen years old, killed for... for witnessing something he shouldn't have. So no, I'm not fucking upset. I'm here for explanations."

She fumbled with her laptop bag, her hands shaking as adrenaline and terror warred with desperate determination. "I've been tracking digital footprints, following money trails, hacking into security cameras. Cedric sent me his last activities before he died, and the trail leads here. To Parker Black. To whatever the hell this place really is."

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