Urban System in America
Chapter 232 - 231: A Delicate Flower

Chapter 232: Chapter 231: A Delicate Flower

Rex returned the wave, a faint grin tugging at his lips as he watched the two disappear into the crowd. Then he shook his head with a quiet laugh, already imagining what kind of chaos Ellie was about to drag Lena into.

Seeing the both of them vanish among the swirling bodies and chatter, Rex took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and composed himself. With a mental cue, he summoned the system interface in his mind. As the familiar translucent panel appeared before his inner vision, his eyes scanned the mission log, still marked as incomplete

"Still not complete, huh?" he muttered, his brow furrowing slightly. He shook his head with mild frustration. "So, Lena and Ellie aren’t the designated ones."

Shaking his head again, this time more helplessly, he dismissed the interface with a flick of thought. It seemed like this mission wasn’t as straightforward as he initially assumed. The parameters were vague, the progress ambiguous, and the system’s silence offered little in the way of guidance.

What troubled him more, though, was the question of who would eventually fulfill the ’significant connections’ criteria. Neither Lena nor Ellie seemed ordinary. Especially Ellie. Her father’s influence was clearly substantial—enough to land an invite to a star-studded gathering like this, the kind of event where even third-rate celebrities would kill to attend.

As for Lena, even though she seemed simple on the surface, her backstory suggested otherwise. She had a quiet resilience, the kind that often went unnoticed until it was too late to ignore. People like her—who endured, adapted, and stayed true to themselves—didn’t need much. All it took was one opportunity,the right spark, and they could soar straight into the sky.

Of course, that was something for the future. Right now, she was still an unknown extra, drifting namelessly through the glitter and noise, a face in the crowd. But Rex had a feeling—when the time came, she wouldn’t just play a role. She’d steal the whole damn show.

"They are definitely not ordinary," he muttered, his gaze drifting over the glittering sea of guests as possibilities began to turn in his mind.

So, straightening his suit and checking his appearance one last time, he stepped forward to look for this ’significant connection.’ Even though he was a bit anxious—understandably so, given the sea of strangers and the buzzing, high-stakes atmosphere—he wasn’t too worried. He had a calm kind of confidence, the kind that came from knowing he didn’t have to rush.

The night was still young, and the party had only just begun. Anything could happen.

He didn’t know what the connection would look like, or who it would be. But he had a feeling he’d know it when he saw it. For now, all he had to do was stay alert, move with purpose, and let the night unfold.

Of course, ignoring the beauty traps along the way—those dazzling smiles and flirtatious glances—he navigated through the party, this time being careful enough to slip into the quieter corners, the lesser-known pockets of the venue where there weren’t too many people and hopefully not hiding anything disgusting like last time.

And naturally, he kept an eye out for that diva Monica. He had every intention of giving her a heads-up—not because he owed her anything, but because letting someone walk blindly into a pit wasn’t in his nature, especially after witnessing that hollow eyes and disgusting stuff. Whether she believed him or not, whether she laughed it off or got defensive, that wasn’t on him. His part was to sound the alarm. What she did with the warning was her choice. If she ignored it and got dragged into something rotten, he wouldn’t lose sleep over it. Anyways his consciousness would be clear.

Still, just thinking about her... that delicate face, like porcelain kissed by morning light, framed by waves of honey-blonde hair that fell in soft, effortless layers. Her soft cherry-red lips always seemed slightly parted, as if caught mid-thought or just about to whisper something wicked.

Those lively, sparkling eyes—like twin jewel flecked with gold—danced with a mischievous glint that made her seem both ethereal and dangerously alive. And her body... elegant yet undeniably sensual, with every curve perfectly balanced, a graceful neck, narrow waist, and legs that could make statues weep.

She was the kind of beauty that made time hesitate, the kind that made people lose their train of thought mid-sentence. Whenever she entered a room, heads turned instinctively, like gravity pulled their gaze. It wasn’t just her face—though that alone could’ve landed her on any magazine cover—it was the way she moved, the casual confidence in every step, the easy grace that made it all look effortless. She had that natural star quality people tried to fake with filters and lighting.

And yet, she always carried herself like none of it mattered—graceful, a little aloof, maybe even unaware of the effect she had. She looked like she belonged in front of cameras and flashing lights,

He couldn’t help but feel it would be a genuine tragedy—no, a crime—if someone like her, so vibrant, so unspoiled, ended up ruined in the hands of some disgusting pig. The kind who saw women like her as trophies, not people. The kind that destroyed delicate things just to feel powerful. Just the thought of her caught in such filth left him with a sour pit in his stomach.

A delicate flower like her deserved so much more—protection, reverence, and a chance to bloom. Not be plucked too early by someone who only saw her as an object. It would be such a waste if someone as stunning as her, someone who hadn’t even reached her prime, got pulled down into the mud by someone who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her.

Still, he wasn’t here to play the knight in shining armor. He had his own reasons for being at this party, and getting involved more than necessary would just complicate things. But if there was a chance to steer her away from danger with just a few words, he’d take it.

He glanced around again, eyes scanning through the glittering sea of people—searching for that familiar flash of blonde or the sound of her sharp, knowing laugh. Somewhere in this madness, Monica was floating through the crowd, possibly unaware of the pit waiting just a few steps off the main floor.

He didn’t know if he’d reach her in time. But if he did, she’d get her warning. What she did with it—that was up to her.

(End of Chapter)