Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

Chapter 120 Timely Help

Parker was out cold in the driver's seat of his Lamborghini Revuelto, head tilted awkwardly against the leather headrest, breath slow and uneven. The car was silent, save for the faint ticking of the engine cooling down after its earlier sprint. His face was pale, the slightest twitch in his brow the only sign he was alive—and hurting.

It wasn't just exhaustion.

His mind felt shredded, his body a raw nerve. Omni Energy—his telekinesis—he'd pushed too far, too hard. Every pulse of pain was like a hammer against his skull, relentless, stabbing. His soul felt like it was tearing at the seams, as if someone had grabbed the edges of his existence and twisted. Robert hadn't just restrained him—he'd done something deeper, darker.

A sudden, violent roar shook the garage.

The Range Rover's engine. That deep, aggressive roar as the engine flared, jolting him awake like a defibrillator shock to the chest. Parker's eyes snapped open, pupils shrinking as reality hit him—no, slammed into his senses like a thunderclap. His head, his entire being, felt like it was caving in on itself.

The pain exploded—raw, burning—spreading from the base of his skull down his spine. He clutched his head with both hands, a strangled sound breaking from his throat.

"Ah...fuck—!"

The pain ripped through his skull so violently he nearly screamed. A sharp, crushing ache like someone had driven a spike right between his eyes and kept twisting.

The garage door shut with a mechanical whirr.

Outside, the car. The Range Rover stopped and Elena slammed her door open, the sound echoing like a gunshot in his head. She had bags—groceries, supplies, the works—but the moment she caught sight of Parker through the Lamborghini window, pale and trembling, the bags hit the ground with a dull thud.

The door was still closed. Parker hadn't come out.

Why?

"Naomi!" she shouted, panic lacing her voice as she sprinted toward his car. Naomi was still getting out, blinking in confusion, her brain trying to catch up to the chaos unfolding. "Wait, what—? What's happening—?"

Naomi stepped out from the passenger side, clutching a Starbucks cup tray and a paper bag. She blinked, glancing between Elena and the car, confused.

"Mr. Parker?" Her voice was sharp, almost demanding. She was already moving, heels clicking against the polished garage floor as she rushed to his door.

No response.

"Elena...wha—what's wrong with him?" Naomi whispered, chest heaving from the effort.

"How would I know." Elena was already kneeling beside him, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. No fever. But whatever was happening—it was bad.

"Go back to the garage. Get the rest of his stuff," Elena ordered, voice sharp but trembling at the edges.

Naomi nodded wordlessly, sprinting back outside while Elena hovered, eyes scanning Parker's face. He looked... broken. And that terrified her more than anything else. This wasn't the cold, unshakable billionaire she was used to.

This was someone who had pushed way too far and paid the price.

Elena stayed, watching Parker. His eyes opened just a crack—glassy, unfocused. She knelt beside him, pressing a hand to his forehead—burning up.

"What the hell happened to you?" she whispered, voice softer now. He didn't answer. Couldn't. His body was shutting down, consciousness slipping away.

Naomi returned moments later, arms full with his things—

Elena's eyes narrowed. "Where's Ere?"

"I...I don't know. She's not in the car. Just his stuff. And the car itself is a mess!" They exchanged a look—both tense, both worried.

Ere was never far from Parker.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

But for now, there was nothing they could do.

Elena exhaled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Cover him up. Let him rest. We'll figure this out later. I will call to get the car fixed!"

Naomi nodded. Together, they pulled the blanket over Parker's still form and stepped out, closing the door behind them.

The two exchanged a worried look. Parker was out cold. His magical cat was missing. And whatever had happened to him... was still a complete fucking mystery.