Urban System in America
Chapter 185 - 184: Wearing Endangered Material?

Chapter 185: Chapter 184: Wearing Endangered Material?

The moment the final bell rang, Rex shot up like a man possessed. His chair scraped loudly against the floor, turning a few heads in the classroom.

Without a word, he slung his bag over one shoulder and practically sprinted out the door.

Students blinked. One kid dropped his pen. Another whispered, "Did he just...?"

Yes. Yes, he did.

He bolted down the corridor, took the stairs two at a time, and was in the parking lot before the dust had even settled. Hopping into his sleek car, he fired up the engine and peeled out of the campus like he was in a heist movie.

His destination? Rodeo Street.

More specifically—Luviton.

And the reason for his dramatic exit?

Simple.

His suits were ready.

The ones handcrafted, battle-tested (well, almost), and personally prepped by Seraphina Marcella herself.

As for the reason for him being so fast of course it was because his suits were ready. What, you thought he was running off to see a girl? Please. Have some dignity, dear reader. We’re not built like that.

He was excited, obviously.

Excited to see the suits.

Humph. Simps.

You should be more like me—cool, composed, dignified. A walking icon. A modern legend.

Ahem! Back on topic.

Somewhere between shifting gears and grinning like a lunatic, Rex suddenly froze.

Wait a second...

He suddenly remembered that he hadn’t retrieved the ticket from the system.

Scratch that—he didn’t even know where it was. Or when it started. Or who was hosting it, for that matter.

Ahem.

Minor details.

Technicalities.

He adjusted his sunglasses and leaned back in his seat like a man with a plan—which, spoiler alert, he absolutely did not have.

"Anyway," he muttered to himself, brushing imaginary lint off his shoulder, "those things aren’t that important. What’s important is to have a belief, if you have belief nothing is impossible in this world."

Right?

Ding!

A faint notification shimmered in the corner of his vision. The System’s familiar golden font flickered:

[Exclusive Hollywood Party Invitation: Claimed but not yet extracted. Would you like to retrieve now?]

Rex let out a breath, shoulders relaxing as a smug smile crept back onto his face.

"Of course," he muttered. "System’s got my back."

He tapped the accept option mentally, and instantly a sleek black invitation card materialized in his inventory—digital, yes, but styled like something hand-delivered by a billionaire butler.

Time? 9:00 PM.

Location? Private mansion in Beverly Hills.

Dress code? "Intimidating Elegance."

Guest list? Redacted. Of course.

...

Driving smoothly, he reached the boutique without much fuss. He parked neatly, stepped out, and headed straight for the entrance without even a glance at the mirror.

He was dressed clean and crisp today: charcoal-grey chinos, a soft cream shirt with rolled-up sleeves, and a slim-fitting dark cardigan. Simple, sharp, and definitely not flashy—but still enough to draw a few glances.

Naturally, a few customers nearby turned to stare giving him weird looks as he walked in—probably wondering if a university student had wandered into the wrong place.

But did he care?

Not even a little.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t slow down, didn’t bother explaining. Just simply walked past the polished displays and perfume counters like he was strolling in his own house.

Anyway, this wasn’t his first time here.

He headed straight for the inner section of the store—the private area where he’d first seen and tried the suits.

And sure enough, there she was.

Seraphina Marcella.

Except... not quite her usual self.

Gone was the flawless, glowing boutique goddess vibe. Today, she looked real. Dark circles under her eyes. Hair not in its usual cinematic bun but half-tied in a messy knot. Her crimson blouse slightly creased. A tablet in one hand, a coffee cup in the other—though from the looks of it, it was her fifth.

Honestly?

Just looking at her, he could tell she’d probably spent more time worrying about his suits than he had.

The door clicked shut behind him, and she immediately turned at the sound. Their eyes met.

Her tiredness didn’t vanish entirely, but something shifted. The stiff line of her shoulders relaxed. A faint, almost reluctant smile tugged at her lips.

"You’re finally here," she said, dryly.

Rex raised an eyebrow. "I drove right under the speed limit for once. Figured you’d appreciate me showing up alive."

She gave a light snort but didn’t argue.

"Alright, enough with the pleasantries," she said, suddenly switching gears. Her tone lifted—proud, precise, and just a bit theatrical. "Let’s take a look at your suit, it’s almost ready. Just need to check the final fit.""

"Oh?" Rex crossed his arms, feigning nonchalance. "Going to roll out a red carpet for me too?"

Seraphina scoffed, "You wish. This is a boutique, not a circus."

She turned, beckoning him to follow as she led him deeper inside. Her heels clicked with that sharp, seductive rhythm.

Rex followed, eyes drifting to the racks as they passed. "And the other two?"

"Still in progress," she said, not missing a beat. "You’ll get them in a few days. Perfection takes time—and sleep. Neither of which I had, thanks to you."

He blinked. "Wait, seriously?"

She cast him a side glance as they walked. "Let’s just say I had to bribe my tailor, kidnap him, actually, and then spend the rest of the night hand-finishing your adjustments while he begged for coffee."

Rex chuckled under his breath but paused. Looking at her properly now—her faint dark circles, the slightly tousled hair, the faint wrinkle in her usually flawless sleeve—it hit him.

Despite her flirty tone and smooth delivery, she really had pulled an all-nighter to make sure the suit was ready.

It would’ve been a lie to say he wasn’t impressed.

"...You didn’t have to go that far," he muttered.

"I absolutely did," she said, flicking a speck of thread from the shoulder of the displayed suit. "You may have settled for a ready-made piece, but no client of mine walks into an exclusive party looking ’almost perfect’."

Her voice held that signature flair—confident, elegant, maybe even a little dramatic—but the pride was real.

Finally, they stopped at a sleek garment rack tucked near the back of the boutique, covered in a protective layer of matte-black fabric. It stood apart from the others like it knew it was special—because it was.

With a practiced flick of her wrist, Seraphina pulled off the cover in one smooth motion, like a magician unveiling the grand finale.

And there it was.

Rex tilted his head slightly, and even he had to pause.

The suit hanging before him wasn’t just clothing. It was art.

"Behold," Seraphina said, her tone taking on the same pride as a curator unveiling a masterpiece, "your armor for tonight."

She gestured elegantly, palm facing up as if presenting a royal decree.

"Double-breasted midnight charcoal, cut to precision. See those blue accents? Not dyed—they’re naturally woven threads of deep indigo silk imported from Kyoto. It shifts in hue under light, like a quiet storm. The fabric base is a custom wool-silk blend from a small atelier in northern Italy. Loomed in limited batches. Less than thirty meters produced per year."

Rex blinked. "So I’m basically wearing endangered material?"

(End of Chapter)

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