Urban System in America

Back home, Rex pulled into the garage and carefully took the painting out of the car, holding it upright with measured care.

Just then, another car rolled in behind him. Victor and Kaelan stepped out, sharp-eyed and composed as always, though there was a subtle tension in their posture.

"Boss, that was a really dangerous situation," Victor said with a wary smile, his voice laced with concern. "Can you please avoid things like that in the future?"

Kaelan gave a small nod of agreement beside him.

Rex offered a faint smile in return, nodding. "Honestly, even I didn’t expect it to turn out that way," he said. "But yeah—let’s all be more careful next time."

With that, the three of them entered the house. Kaelan and Victor returned to their rooms, while Rex brought the painting into his room and set it down gently in a well-lit corner to dry.

He stepped back and studied it one last time.

It was chaotic and bold, wild brushstrokes clashing in beautiful defiance. There was something oddly triumphant about it—as if it had captured a fleeting emotion and trapped it forever in oil and canvas.

There was still quite some time until midnight. So, he sat on the bed, grabbed his phone, and, out of habit, started browsing the internet for anything interesting.

Most of it was forgettable—celebrity gossip, market volatility, the latest political missteps—until a particular headline made him stop.

His thumb froze mid-scroll.