Urban System in America
Chapter 182 - 181: Suit Selection

Chapter 182: Chapter 181: Suit Selection

"Option two," she said, revealing the next: a charcoal-gray ensemble with a deep wine-colored undershirt, asymmetrical lapel, and layered textures. The jacket flared slightly at the hip like a cloak—avant-garde, moody, magnetic.

"The ’enigmatic artist’ look," she explained. "Gives you tortured charisma."

"Great," Rex murmured. "Maybe I’ll land a brooding perfume deal."

"And finally..." She opened the last one.

A dark charcoal suit with subtle midnight blue accents. Double-breasted, slim-fit, and hand-stitched.

"I’ll try the this one," he said finally.

She smirked. "Knew it."

Fifteen minutes later, Rex stood in front of the massive mirror.

Damn.

It didn’t just fit. It belonged. The embroidery gleamed subtly with every movement. The silhouette was sleek and commanding. Regal but modern.

It looked less like something you’d wear to a party—and more like something you’d wear to claim a throne.

"Modern royalty," she said simply. "Very you."

He looked like the heir to an empire. The suit hugged his body like it had been made for him—and well, now it was.

Seraphina walked around him slowly, adjusting the cuffs, fixing the collar, tugging gently at the hem. Her hands moved like a sculptor with her latest masterpiece.

"It’s missing something..." she murmured. Then snapped her fingers.

Her assistant rushed over with a silk pocket square—deep crimson—and tucked it into the jacket’s pocket. Another adjustment. Then a subtle cologne spritz.

"Now," she said, stepping back. "Now you look like you belong."

Rex turned toward her. "Belong where?"

She tilted her head and smiled. "At the top."

For a second, their eyes met—and there was something in her gaze. Amusement, admiration... and maybe a challenge.

Ahem! He coughed and turned his attention back to suits.

"I feel like each one’s about to come with a backstory and stat boost."

"They basically do," Seraphina said. "Clothes aren’t just fabric. They’re narrative."

Rex stepped off the fitting platform and gave the full-length mirror a long, contemplative glance.

The suit hugged him like it had been tailored by the gods.

Dark charcoal with just a whisper of midnight blue woven into the threads—it was subtle, almost invisible unless the light hit just right. The double-breasted jacket added structure and class, while the slim-fit cut emphasized his lean physique. Every line, every stitch, every perfectly measured inch radiated quiet authority.

It didn’t scream for attention. It didn’t need to.

It was the kind of suit that made other suits insecure.

"Well?" she asked, arms crossed, the gleam in her eye unmistakably proud. "Decision time, pretty boy. Is this the one?"

Rex tilted his head, glancing at the other two suits still displayed nearby. One was a regal gray ensemble with silver embroidery that gave off CEO-on-a-private-jet vibes. The other, a deep obsidian-black piece, had a sleek danger to it—like a tuxedo made for a stylish assassin.

They were all masterpieces in their own right.

But this one—this dark charcoal beauty?

It felt like him.

"I’ll go with this one," he said, brushing a hand down the lapel and flashing his reflection a grin. "But..."

He paused, and Seraphina raised a brow.

"...I’ll take all three."

There was a beat of silence.

Then, Seraphina let out a soft laugh, both amused and impressed. "You’re unbelievable."

"Well, I can’t have just one suit, can I?" he said casually, brushing invisible lint off the lapel like a seasoned red carpet regular. A man’s gotta be ready. What if I get invited to another elite party next week? Or a gala? Or—God forbid—an awards show?"

"And here I thought you were just here for one outfit."

"Please," he said, smirking. "You don’t bring a sword to war and then refuse to pick up the shield and dagger."

"I’ll pretend that metaphor made sense," she said dryly.

Rex grinned. "So what now? I walk out and make paparazzi cry?"

She snorted, then stepped forward, adjusting the hem. "Hold your horses, future icon. The shoulders need a slight tuck, and I’ll tailor the sleeves—just a quarter-inch. You’ve bulked up since last time, Mr. Supernatural Grind."

"How long will that take?"

"I’ll have it ready by mid-afternoon," she replied, already pulling out pins and whispering instructions to her assistants. "You’ll have it before sunset, crisp and camera-ready."

"Perfect."

He stepped down from the platform and gave her a sincere nod. "Thanks, Seraphina."

She offered a mock bow "You’re welcome."

Then snapped her fingers at her assistant. "You heard him. The charcoal suit is priority—adjust it and prep for the afternoon. The others can follow after, but make sure everything’s flawless."

The assistant bowed slightly and vanished with a flurry of measuring tape and fabric swatches.

Rex stepped back into his regular clothes—still designer, but nothing close to what he’d just tried on. He could feel the aura of the suit clinging to him, like it had imprinted confidence onto his skin.

As he buttoned his shirt, he looked over at Seraphina. "I wasn’t kidding. That suit is dangerous. I’m pretty sure I looked at myself for too long and fell in love."

Seraphina smirked. "Don’t fall too deep, darling. You’re expensive to replace."

With a final wave, Rex turned toward the boutique’s glass doors. "Thanks again. You’re a lifesaver."

"Correction," she called after him, lips curving into a playful smirk. "I’m a stylist. Slightly more powerful."

...

Victor and Kaelan were already by the car when Rex exited the boutique. The moment the doors closed behind him, it felt like stepping out of a movie and back into real life. Still, the elegance lingered. Like silk on skin. Or cologne after a long night.

He walked toward the sleek black car parked at the curb—his own ride. Clean, polished, and quiet in its confidence. One of the system’s earlier gifts. It fit him now more than ever.

"Fitting done?" Victor asked, voice casual, though his stance remained alert as always.

"Yeah," Rex replied, sliding into the driver’s seat. "Suit’ll be ready by afternoon."

Victor gave a short nod.

Kaelan was already in the passenger seat of their vehicle, typing rapidly on his tablet, likely cross-checking schedules, security, or both.

Rex started the engine with a soft hum. His car pulled away first, with Victor and Kaelan’s tailing at a smooth distance.

The drive back was quiet, the way Rex liked it. His playlist rolled on at a low volume—instrumental lo-fi and soft synths as the world blurred past his tinted windows. The city had started waking up properly now. Traffic lights blinked in rhythm, and people bustled about.

(End of Chapter)

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