Urban System in America
Chapter 184 - 183: First Meeting

Chapter 184: Chapter 183: First Meeting

"Low-ranking but talkative. Got it."

"And dress sharp," Daisy added. "First impressions."

"I’m literally the sharpest guy here."

"You’re wearing sneakers with anime laces."

"They’re limited edition," Rex defended. "And emotionally significant."(of course, it was a lie, He’d just randomly grabbed whatever old Rex had in his closet. The emotional significance? Zero.)

Sophie cackled. "If we win this project, it’ll be because of those emotionally significant shoelaces."

"Don’t underestimate footwear energy," Rex said solemnly. "It’s very feng shui."

"Moving on," Hannah cut in before the conversation spiraled into shoelace philosophy. "Timeline check. We have fourteen days. Week one is for research, outreach, and contact. Week two—fieldwork, data consolidation, and final presentation prep. We’ll meet every other day. No excuses."

Daisy raised a brow. "And if someone forgets their part?"

Everyone turned to Rex like it was a group reflex.

He raised both hands. "Okay, look. I’ll set reminders. Multiple alarms. I’ll even bribe myself with ice cream."

"Elara," Hannah said, ignoring him, "send your research updates every two days. Sophie, once you confirm which companies are responsive, let us know ASAP."

Sophie gave a mock salute. "Got it. I’ll start with emails. Chill, professional. Minimal chaos."

"Daisy and I will build the initial structure of the report once we know who we’re dealing with," Hannah continued. "By next meeting, I want at least one confirmed lead."

Rex nodded, then leaned back. "So, no pressure. Just unravel the secrets of the glitzy entertainment industry, maybe find a scandal or two in two weeks. Easy."

"Exactly," Hannah said.

The group settled into silence for a moment—everyone scribbling, tapping, or pretending to be productive.

Sophie grinned. "Tomorrow, I’ll send them a message. Flirty, professional, with just enough mystery to make them curious."

"That sounds vaguely unethical," Daisy muttered.

Sophie winked. "Only if it works."

Just as they were packing up, Sophie tossed her hair back with theatrical flair. "Alright, troops. We’ve strategized, bonded, and insulted Rex’s shoes. I say that’s enough productivity for one day."

"Bare minimum bonding," Daisy said without looking up, "and the insults were well-deserved."

"Again, limited edition," Rex mumbled, tugging at one lace like it would somehow earn him credibility. It didn’t.

Hannah stood, her bag already clipped closed with the kind of efficiency that made Rex wonder if she practiced quickdraws at home. "Next meeting, same time, same place. No ghosting. No excuses."

Rex mock-saluted. "What if I’m kidnapped by a K-pop agency and forced to debut as their awkward foreign member?"

"Then send a voice note," Hannah deadpanned. "With proof."

As the meeting wrapped up, Rex glanced around the table.

Sophie: chaotic but charming.

Daisy: calm and cunning.

Hannah: mercilessly efficient.

Elara: quiet but razor-sharp.

And himself? The wildcard with emotional shoelaces.

Somehow, this strange team might just pull it off.

...

The rest of the day passed in a blur of monotony.

Classes. Notes. Group chats. Charts, theories and more classes.

At one point, Rex half-dozed off during a lecture. The lecture had devolved into academic white noise.

Something about vertical integration, strategic partnerships, and a pyramid diagram that looked suspiciously like the Illuminati logo. Rex had stopped paying attention fifteen minutes ago. His notebook was now home to a stick figure in a tuxedo battling a dragon labeled Midterm Stress.

Nothing exciting happened. No scandals broke. No dramatic plot twists, which honestly was a pity, ahem—good.

And then, almost at the end of class, his phone buzzed.

Heglanced at the screen. The name made his brow lift slightly, then a small smirk crept onto his face.

Seraphina Marcella.

He ducked his head a little, hiding the grin that tugged at his lips, and picked up.

"Hey," he said, voice low.

From the other end came that unmistakable voice—smooth, smoky, and laced with amusement.

"Darling, do you always sound this flirty, or am I special?"

His grin widened. "Depends. Are you calling for business or pleasure?"

A light laugh purred through the line. "Both, ideally. But let’s start with business. Your suits are ready. All three. Personally steamed, pressed, and blessed with magic."

"By you?"

"Of course," she said, voice dipped in velvet. "I don’t trust my assistants with your silhouette anymore. They lack... reverence."

"Understandable," Rex murmured. "This body is practically state property."

"I’ll pretend you didn’t say that." Her tone was dry, but he could hear the smirk.

"That was fastt.Honestly I’m impressed." he murmured, voice quiet enough not to carry across the room.

"I don’t like unfinished business sitting on my rack," she replied. "Especially when it takes up premium space."

He could imagine her now—arms crossed, probably scanning a tablet, that same no-nonsense tone she’d used while pinning his sleeves last time.

"Are you at the store?"

"Always," she said. "You are always welcome to visit".

"You make it sound like I should drop everything and show up in a tux just to say thank you."

"You could. I wouldn’t stop you."

Rex leaned back in his chair, eyes lazily following the lecture slide shifting on screen. The professor was still mid-monologue about global market expansion.

"You’re painting a dangerous picture, Seraphina."

"You’re the one who called me in the middle of the night begging for a suit," she replied, dry as champagne. "Don’t start acting coy now."

"I wasn’t begging. I was... making a strategic fashion emergency call."

"Mhm. And lucky for you, I happen to specialize in style-based emergencies."

He chuckled, keeping his gaze on the front of the class but his attention firmly on the woman on the other end. "I’ll come by after class."

"You’d better. she said, her voice dropping into that familiar velvet drawl. "Thanks to your call last night, I haven’t caught a wink—day or night. I had to specially kidnap one of my best tailors to adjust your suit."

Rex blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, the flirty cadence of her voice faded into the background, and all he heard was the weight behind the words—exaggerated or not.

Sincerity. Professionalism.

She’d really gone the extra mile.

Despite the seductive tone and usual teasing, Rex could feel the professionalism threaded between her words—and it would’ve been a lie to say he wasn’t impressed.

"Alright, alright—I’ll drop by before your kidnapped tailor files a complaint." He joked, his voice laced with mock devotion.

There was a brief pause—then a soft laugh, low and indulgent.

"I’ll hold you to that, darling."

The call ended with a soft beep. Rex lowered the phone, shook his head, and let out a small chuckle. Somehow, even a conversation about suits with her felt like sparring with silk gloves.

(End of Chapter)