Urban System in America
Chapter 161 - 160: Nostalgic Summer

Chapter 161: Chapter 160: Nostalgic Summer

Then there were the summers.

On particularly hot afternoons, when as usual, the adults were busy and the weather was sweltering, she would sneak them both into the kitchen.

Like a covert commander on a top-secret mission, she’d tiptoe to the freezer and pull out a pair of melting Rocket Popsicles.

She handed him one like it was contraband. "Don’t drop it," she whispered, and together they crawled under the kitchen table, giggling like criminals as they devoured their sticky loot in the shadows, trying to eat fast before the popsicles melted all over their hands.

He remembered how she’d always finish hers first, then smirk at him like she was better at everything.

Which, to be fair... she kinda was.

Of course, they weren’t supposed to snack before dinner.

And of course, they occasianly got caught.

He could still remember the panic in her face when one day, a drop of red syrup landed on his white shirt.

Lena gasped like someone had just pulled the pin on a grenade.

"You idiot—hold it upright!" she hissed, yanking a paper towel from the counter and furiously scrubbing the stainlike it was a life-or-death.

And naturally, she scolded him while doing it.

Then, with dramatic flair, she examined the blotchy patch of damp fabric and said, "There. Clean. No one will ever know."

"No evidence left behind," she had whispered urgently, after finally removing the stain, at least that’s what she thought.

Needless to say, they were both busted five minutes later when his mother found them huddled beneath the table, sugar-slicked and looking extremely guilty, trying (and failing) to act casual.

And of course, they couldn’t escape the fate of being punished.

And as punishment, they were banned from dessert for a week.

But Lena didn’t throw him under the bus. She didn’t say he begged her. She didn’t blame him for the stain or try to escape first.

She stood there beside him, arms crossed, chin high—accepting judgment with the nobility of a queen facing the guillotine.

He had to admit... that one moment earned her some respect.

There were countless little memories like that.

Playing together (though he was often the unwitting test subject in her science "experiments"),

Her "tutoring" sessions (which mostly involved her yelling "Are you even trying?!" every five minutes),

Her acting like she was ten years older, not just three.

Even then—even in the rare, fleeting moments when she wasn’t bossing him around or plotting his social demise—

She was still...

His sister.

A devil in disguise.

But a devil who, somehow, always had his back.

So now, when Uncle casually dropped the news that Lena was finally free and planning to visit home?

Rex wasn’t sure whether to clean his house, buy flowers, or set booby traps.

Probably all three.

That wasn’t just a casual heads-up. That was a DEFCON 1-level emergency.

And the worst part? She was probably already making a checklist titled:

"Rex’s Rehabilitation Plan – Phase II: Now with More Discipline."

Rex sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Yeah... he needed to prepare like his life depended on it, like he was facing a mini-boss raid in real life.

Because with Lena, it probably did.

He sighed, shoulders slumping, and with a deflated look stepped out of the office, letting the door click shut behind him. His expression was a mix of resignation and quiet understanding.

But no matter what, he knew exactly why she was coming back.

Lena wasn’t the type to just drop by for no reason—especially not with her schedule. With the kind of job she had, carving out even a weekend was a miracle. If she was coming home now, it wasn’t coincidence.

So, without doubt It was because of him.

After all, when his parents died, when every so-called relative either kept their distance or circled like vultures around the inheritance. Lena was there. No hesitation, no dramatic declarations—just quietly took over everything like some bossy guardian angel.

And she hadn’t left after the funeral.

Not for a few days.

Not for a week.

She stayed for months.

While others offered empty words and half-hearted condolences, she stayed. Cooking, cleaning, managing everything, snapping at distant relatives when needed—and, of course, bossing him around like always.

In the end, it was the previous Rex who had to send her back. He put on a smile, cracked a few jokes, and pretended he was finally getting back on his feet.

All just to get her to go back—so she wouldn’t lose her dream job—something she’d fought tooth and nail to get. If he hadn’t faked it, she would’ve stayed until the company gave up and fired her.

Eventually, she bought it.

And left.

But alas! Grief wasn’t something that could be resolved so easily, it doesn’t vanish just because you fake a smile long enough. Even if you have the support of others.

And so, the previous Rex did what many broken people do.

He ultimately succumbed to alcohol and the rest is history.

But still... thinking about the days when she cried with him, stayed up countless sleepless nights by his side, even starved with him, because he didn’t feel like eating anything for days. it warmed something deep inside him.

It really did feel good to have someone worry about you.

Because in the past life, he was all alone, with no one to care if he had eaten anything, whether he had been even starving or not, whether he was dead or not, heck he even doubts that if he really had died, would anyone had noticed and found his body yet? Or would he have ended up like one of those tragic news stories—some lonely souls whose half-decomposed body was found months or even years later.

It was a terrifying thought.

But still he felt that, the possibility was quite high.

Shaking his head, he brushed the lingering thoughts aside and let out a dry chuckle."What the heck am I even thinking about again?" he muttered to himself, lips quirking into a crooked smile. "I don’t even know if I actually died or not... and here I am getting all sentimental."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair."Guess it’s gonna take a while to get used to this weird feeling—having someone who actually worries about me."

It wasn’t a bad feeling.Just unfamiliar.Like wearing shoes that didn’t quite fit yet... but were surprisingly warm.

(End of Chapter)