Urban System in America
Chapter 41: A Glimpse Into The Past

Chapter 41: Chapter 41: A Glimpse Into The Past

At 3 p.m., he finished his last class of the day.

An eerie silence hung in the air, broken only by the occasional chirps of birds and the faint rustling of leaves.

Rex sat on the same weathered wooden bench as in the morning.

His hands rested on his hips, constantly clenching and relaxing, though it wasn’t clear whether it was due to nervousness or excitement.

Inhale... exhale...

He drew in long, deep breaths, trying to steady his restless mind as his eyes locked on the horizon, unfocused.

Honestly, this mission was one of the biggest risks, and possibly the biggest. He had ever taken in both of his lives.

In his past life as a penniless orphan crushed under the heel of a brutal, indifferent society. he had endured things far more harrowing than this—things ordinary people couldn’t even imagine. But back then, he didn’t have the courage to stand up against it, or rather, he couldn’t afford the risk of failure. He lacked the resources, the backing—and most of all, the luxury of failure.

One, only one wrong move, would have been enough to spell the doom of his entire life.

He hadn’t always been like that. Life in the orphanage was hard, grueling hard, but he had always remained optimistic about the future, just like any other kid. He used to dream. He used to hope.

So when he finally left the orphanage and entered society, reality taught him lessons no book ever could.

As a penniless, frail kid with no relatives or friends to speak of, He survived by taking up whatever odd jobs he could find, just enough to get by.

In fact, he never had any grand plans or dreams of becoming rich or powerful. Usually, when night fell, he would lie under the open sky and admire the moon and stars, imagining a normal life. Just like most people in the world—studying at school, going to university, getting a job, marrying the love of his life, and working together to own a cozy little home and a car.

But he didn’t know whether the world was just like that—or if it was simply his luck.

Knowing he was an orphan without a home, a kind-hearted man had offered him a job in a local factory along with food and accommodation.

But when he actually went there, he came face-to-face with a harsh reality.

It was a factory, far sure, but the work was pure exploitation. Grueling manual labor, day in and day out. Most of the workers were like him—runaways, immigrants, or desperate kids clinging to survival.

They had to work 14–16 hours a day, Meals were barely edible, worse than animals, And their "accommodation"? Five to ten people were crammed into a filthy single room with nothing to speak of. Just old, ripped bed sheets on the cold, hard floor, with dirty pillows and thin covers.

He endured there for four months—not because he wanted to, but because he was forced to, through intimidation, threats, manipulation—it was a cage without bars.

But as time went on, he realized he couldn’t go on like that. So one day, he gathered his courage and finally fled.

And he wasn’t the only one or first to escape—. People fled often, and the more he saw, the more he realized he had to do the same to escape from this hellhole.

He had tried to convince the others too, but none of them agreed. They had their own plans, their own reasons to stay, or maybe they had already given up.

Just like that, after stumbling and falling through job after job, he matured a bit and finally managed to get into a third-rate university. He’d heard that having a degree was useful to get a ’normal’ job—how useful, he didn’t know, nor did anyone bother to tell him.

till, university life was... different. For once, he lived a relatively normal life. He made friends for the first time. Laughed. Shared meals. And enjoyed living like a regular person—if you ignored the occasional bullying and multiple part-time jobs.

But compared to the life he’d known, it was a gift.

Then he graduated. And just like that, those friends, who once swore they’d live and die together, went their own ways, never contacting again. No messages. No calls.

Maybe they realized that a broke orphan wasn’t of any use to them in the real world, so they cut him off.

When he stepped into society again, whatever little wings he had managed to grow were clipped once more. He took a great risk by entering the entertainment industry, naively thinking his degree would carry some weight. It didn’t. Reality smoothed out his pride once again.

Since then, he stopped taking risks. Found an ordinary job in an ordinary company. The work was tough, but manageable, and for once, he had time to breathe, time to really explore what the world was like—through the internet and the news.

And that... was life. Until it wasn’t.

Until he died.

(Or maybe not.)

After transmigrating here, one thing that greatly influenced him was the memories of his previous self, the warmth of a family, the luxury of comfort, the quiet joys of a stable life.

That’s when he truly realized that life could be good. Life could be kind. People weren’t all monsters.There was so much more to the world than he had known.

Of course, He’d met good people in his past life too—but they were rare. Flickers of kindness in a world painted in shadows.

Now, with money and a system at his side, his courage grew. He wasn’t afraid of failure anymore. He could take all the risks in the world.

That’s why he had decided to move forward with this mission.

Reading all those news articles in his previous life, he knew that things like this could destroy someone’s life and ruin their future.

He wasn’t someone driven by a great sense of justice or some noble justice warrior. But if he could right a wrong—if he could help—without exposing himself...

Then why not?

The system’s mission only gave him an extra push.

Just as he was immersed in his thoughts, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

Looking up, he saw Adrian finally come into view.

It was already 3:20 p.m.—this guy was a full twenty minutes late. Rex shook his head helplessly and stood up.

Looking closely, Adrian’s appearance was a sharp contrast to his haggard state from earlier. Dressed in neat, clean clothes, his hair combed, his face washed, and wearing a cold, unreadable expression—he looked much better.

Rex raised an eyebrow, gave him a once-over, and nodded. "You clean up nice. Honestly, even better than before."

"Sorry for the delay. I had some important things to settle at home," Adrian replied, his face unreadable.

Rex didn’t ask what those things were. He could already guess—it must have been something related to Blair.

(End of Chapter)