Urban System in America
Chapter 169 - 168: Are you trying to insult me?

Chapter 169: Chapter 168: Are you trying to insult me?

Rex took the lead, confidently striding into the cafeteria as if he owned the place.

Ahem—okay, let’s not exaggerate. He just walked in like any other student... well, maybe with a bit more swagger. And a bit more confidence. And yeah, maybe he was too handsome for his own good. The kind of guy who made you question if cafeteria lighting was secretly designed just to flatter him.

As for "owning the place"? Total nonsense. That kind of over-the-top stuff only happens in novels.

...Wait.

This is a novel.

Oh. Well, in that case—yes. Let’s roll with it.

Rex strode in with the kind of aura you’d expect from an emperor returning victorious from battle, or a social media star entering a luxury fashion show where even the red carpet was trying to get his autograph.

His invisible theme music practically followed him, complete with slow-mo effects and dramatic lighting. Even the old vending machine in the corner seemed to perk up a little.

Behind him trailed the rest of the class like a noisy parade of overexcited ducklings—chattering, laughing, bumping into one another, following their ridiculously attractive, slightly smug duck-dad.

As they entered, a few students from other classes stopped mid-bite, watching the oddly synchronized group march in like a cult following their charismatic leader. Someone even whispered, "What’s going on? Is it a birthday? A flash mob?"

It wasn’t every day a full classroom marched into the cafeteria in formation. Especially not behind a single student.

Once inside, however, the momentum... kind of just fell flat.

The crowd that had marched in like a grand parade began to disband with the enthusiasm of a deflated balloon. Some headed for their usual tables, some pulled out their wallets and formed polite queues, while others made a beeline for the vending machine, already arguing over who had claimed the last decent sandwich yesterday.

Obviously, no one had taken the "Rex is buying lunch" thing seriously. It was just playful banter—one of those exaggerated jokes that die a quick death after the laugh track fades.

But before the group could completely scatter, Rex clapped his hands.

A loud SMACK echoed through the cafeteria like the summoning of a boss battle.

"Hey, hey! Where do you all think you’re going?"

The crowd froze mid-step.

Some with trays half-loaded. Others with wallets halfway out of their pockets. A couple of students paused like they’d just been caught shoplifting air. All eyes turned to Rex.

"I wasn’t joking," he said, a grin slowly spreading across his face. "I promised lunch was on me—so it’s definitely on me. I never go back on his word... especially when food is involved."

A short silence followed. And for a second, everyone just stared at him.

Like really stared.

As if trying to figure out whether he’d hit his head on the way in or had been replaced by a very generous doppelgänger.

Then—

"Wait, seriously?"

"No way..."

"For real?!"

"You serious right now?"

"Bro, we were joking! No need to spend so much!"

"Yeah, don’t be crazy—" someone said, already putting their wallet back in.

Even Daisy added gently, "You don’t have to do that, Rex. We can all pay for our own. Really."

Rex just shrugged, casual as ever. "Relax. You guys seriously underestimate me. This much is nothing. It’s just one lunch. I’ve got a few extra bucks to spare."

His tone was so easygoing, so smooth, it made it hard to argue.

The reactions came in rapid fire, disbelief painted all over their faces. Some looked around to check if this was some elaborate prank or hidden camera show. A few were already pulling out their wallets halfway, unsure whether to feel guilty or blessed.

Then someone at the back muttered, "If he’s serious, I’m getting the deluxe rice bowl."

"I’m getting the bacon cheeseburger."

"Bacon? I’m going straight for the grilled steak sandwich," someone else whispered.

Their hesitation quickly crumbled like a cookie in hot tea. In less than a minute, the entire class devolved into chaos, swarming the cafeteria counter like hungry hyenas at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

They all talked big, but when it actually came to ordering—surprisingly, no one picked anything expensive. Not even close.

"Uh... one plain veggie rice, please."

"I’ll have the smallest noodle bowl."

"Just the side salad..."

"I’ll just take a side of fries..."

"Small garden salad for me."

"One slice of cheese pizza. No toppings."

People ordered like they were broke interns, not like they were getting a free meal. Every order was the cheapest option available. Steamed buns, egg-fried rice without egg, half-portion noodles, and economy curry rice that looked more like rice with curry vibes than actual curry. Some even picked from the "budget bites" menu—half wraps, plain mac and cheese, and mini burrito bowls.

Rex blinked, baffled. Was this reverse psychology? Guilt? Peer pressure?

He stepped forward and raised his hand like a director halting a scene.

"Stop, stop, stop. What are you all doing? Are you trying to insult me?" he said, a mock frown forming on his face.

Everyone froze, confused. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"You really think I’d make a big deal just to feed you side salads and sad toast?"

Rex didn’t bother explaining. He simply turned to the counter, cracked his knuckles like a final boss ready to drop a move, and nodded at the cafeteria lady.

"Yo, Martha," he called to the tall, no-nonsense, always-scowling and super intimidating cafeteria lady who ran the place like a drill sergeant.

" "Gimme... hmm... Twenty double bacon cheeseburgers with curly fries. Fifteen grilled chicken Caesar wraps. Ten loaded nacho plates. Ten Philly cheesesteaks—extra onions. Seven teriyaki rice bowls, three BBQ pulled pork sandwiches, and oh—toss in eight full-size pepperoni pizzas for good measure."

He wasn’t done.

"Add a dozen or two chocolate milkshakes, half strawberry smoothies, and... actually, Martha, surprise me with whatever’s your personal favorite. Times ten."

She raised an eyebrow and stared at him like he’d just asked for her kidneys.

"You feeding an army or staging a rebellion?"

Rex just grinned. "Both."

She squinted suspiciously. "You do realize we don’t accept Monopoly money, right?"

The students snickered behind him, trying to stifle their laughter.

"RIP wallet," someone whispered dramatically.

"I’ll pay, I’ll pay." Rex pulled out his wallet with a theatrical flourish, like a hero unsheathing a legendary sword. "My student loan debt isn’t scary enough, so I figured I’d add this to the list."

Martha gave him a long look—the kind that could make most students spontaneously combust out of fear—then finally nodded.

"Your funeral," she muttered, turning around to yell into the kitchen like a war general summoning troops. "EVERYONE ON DECK! WE GOT A FULL-BLOWN FEEDING FRENZY!"

Chaos immediately erupted in the kitchen as cafeteria workers scrambled like they were prepping for a presidential visit.

Behind him, the class looked like they just witnessed Moses part the Red Sea.

"Holy sh*t... he’s actually serious."

"Bro’s not a student. He’s a secret investor. Right?"

Elara stared at the scene, somewhere between mortified and secretly impressed, as she secretly calculated how much money was spent. Daisy just shook her head, smiling again.

Meanwhile, Adrian leaned in and muttered, "Rex. Be honest. Did you rob a billionaire or something?"

(End of Chapter)

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