Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!-Chapter 298: Fiend Between a Nyxilith & An Ashford!

The deep hum of the Koenigsegg's engine pulsed through Parker's bones, a steady, powerful vibration that matched the slow, measured rise and fall of his chest. His fingers drummed lazily against the steering wheel, a picture of relaxed control, but his mind was anything but calm.

Something felt off. Very off.

His gaze flicked upward, locking onto the overhead camera, and the second he did, a wave of Ether energy slammed into his senses like a silent explosion. He could practically feel the manipulation in the air, subtle yet potent, threading through the camera's system like invisible hands twisting reality itself.

To the average person? It was nothing. Just a regular security feed doing its job.

To an Omni user like him? It was screaming.

Someone was watching. Closely. Too closely.

His jaw tightened, the smallest flicker of irritation flashing through his cold, calculating stare. He had a damn good idea who was behind it. And he hated it.

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Parker despised being watched. Hated the feeling of being prey—because he wasn't. He was the one who hunted. This wasn't just some harmless curiosity, some bored rich kid snooping for fun. This was targeted. Personal. Intentional.

Someone had already marked him as an enemy.

His fingers curled around the wheel, but instead of showing any outward frustration, he simply hummed. A soft, almost amused sound—like he had just figured out exactly how he was going to fuck with whoever was on the other end of that feed.

If they wanted to watch, then fine.

Let them seethe.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and just to be a complete asshole about it, Parker pressed down on the gas, revving the Koenigsegg's engine hard. The car let out a deep, throaty growl, the kind that sent vibrations through the pavement and demanded attention.

The response was immediate.

Tessa's Bugatti snarled back, a violent rev that spoke volumes without a single word being exchanged. Inside, she drummed her fingers against the dash, her head tilted slightly as if already composing the headline for Parker's high-speed funeral.

Next to her, Atalanta, ever the image of icy confidence, rolled her shoulders in her sleek Porsche, the subtle movement resembling a fighter warming up before a match.

The neon runway lights cast an almost ethereal glow over the underground racing strip, painting everything in a hazy, electric blue. The three cars inched forward, crawling into position at the starting line, their engines purring like caged animals waiting to be set loose.

The air crackled with anticipation.

They were seconds away from breaking every legal speed limit in existence.

Parker exhaled slowly, his grip loose but firm, his mind razor-sharp.

And as his gaze flickered toward the camera one last time—he smirked.

*

The sound of leather creaking under pressure filled the otherwise silent VIP lounge.

Ashford's hand had tightened around the armrest, his knuckles stark white against his skin, his jaw locked in barely contained fury. His gaze was glued to the screen, watching the live feed from the underground raceway, his entire body radiating unspoken rage.

That smug, arrogant son of a bitch.

That nobody.

Parker Black sat behind the wheel of his Koenigsegg, smirking like he belonged there, like he was somebody.

Like he was worth something.

And worse? Far worse?

Tessa had been too close to him.

His breath hitched, muscles tensing under his tailored suit. He was supposed to be above this. Controlled. Cold. Untouchable.

Yet here he was, gritting his teeth like some jealous fool, his usually pristine composure cracking under the sheer, blinding rage clawing at his insides.

Because when it came to one thing, when it came to her—

He lost all fucking reason.

And now, that one thing, the one person he had claimed before she even knew it herself—

Was right there.

Staring at another man.

Touching another man.

Wanting another man.

His fingers twitched, and for a brief second, the glass of whiskey on the table trembled, his barely controlled fury manifesting in the smallest, most violent ways.

Beside him, his bodyguard remained perfectly still. The tall, statuesque woman with the eerily blank expression and piercing gaze. Except now, her eyes glowed a deep, unnatural purple.

The unmistakable mark of someone wielding Ether manipulation.

Definitely the one controlling the cameras.

Ashford's teeth ground together, his mind already painting a hundred different ways to erase Parker Black from existence. If it weren't for two annoyingly inconvenient facts—

One—Tessa was still right there, meaning he couldn't risk doing anything reckless.

Two—They were currently in Wilder territory, which meant starting a war wasn't an option.

For now.

But then it happened.

Tessa stepped out of her car.

Not to check her engine. Not to stretch.

No.

She walked straight to Parker's Koenigsegg.

Her strides were fast. Purposeful.

She reached for the door. Ripped it open.

And before Ashford could even process what the fuck she was doing, like she was meaning to show off, like she knew he was watching and she wad declaring a statement—

She grabbed Parker and shoved him against his own car.

And kissed him.

Fiercely. Desperately. Like she fucking meant it.

The world stopped.

The air in the room grew thick, suffocating, as the lounge plunged into an unnatural silence. The leather of the armrest groaned under his iron grip, and this time, he didn't stop himself. His nails dug into his palm, sharp enough to nearly draw blood.

His breath came short and shallow, his entire body seething in raw, uncontrollable fury.

The bodyguard beside him remained silent. Smart. She already knew what was coming. Ashford's voice, when it came, was deadly calm.

"Find everything about that nobody." The woman didn't flinch. Didn't question him.

"And once you've confirmed he's not worth our caution—"

His lips curled into something cold, something lethal.

"Kill him."

The woman nodded once, lifting a single hand. The others in the room moved instantly, slipping away like shadows, vanishing to carry out his order without a single wasted breath.

Ashford didn't move.

Didn't blink.

His entire world had shrunk down to the image on the screen—the sight of Tessa, the girl who was supposed to be his, tangled up with a nobody.

His fingers twitched.

His voice was a whisper, low and seething.

"Scum. Nobody."

And to this insult?

Parker Black was going to pay.

With his life.

And Tessa?

She was going to be his.

No more waiting.