Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System! - Chapter 277

Chapter 277: Meeting Atalanta Again
The Cartier store was basically a high-security vault with mood lighting and whisper-quiet sales associates. Everything sparkled, from the diamonds in velvet-lined glass cases to the literal air, which smelled like exclusivity and generational wealth. The walls? Red and gold. The music? A soft classical piece that said, if you’re listening to this, you better have fuck-you money.

Tessa? Already in business mode.

She scanned the collection like a CEO reviewing financial reports, calculating value, rarity, and whether this piece even deserved to exist in her world.

Naomi? Having a spiritual awakening.

She clutched a diamond bracelet priced at $400,000 like it was a lost relic of Atlantis. “Okay, but should I get it?”

Elena? Testing the limits of capitalism.

She slipped on a $500,000 diamond ring, admiring the way it caught the light. “If I buy this, does that mean I’m engaged to myself?”

A Cartier employee, blessed with infinite patience, smiled. “It would mean you have impeccable taste, madame.”

Parker? Seated on an ultra-soft leather couch, watching the chaos unfold with detached amusement. Ere, perched on his shoulder, flicked her tail. “They’re not shopping. They’re committing economic warfare.”

Tessa didn’t even blink. She lifted a rare sapphire necklace worth $860,000, examined it once, and handed it off.

“I’ll take this one.”

No excitement. No hesitation. Just another Tuesday. The sales associate nodded so smoothly it was almost rehearsed. No one here questioned purchases. You wanted it? It was yours.

Naomi: Still debating if $400K on a bracelet was crazy or iconic.

Elena: Fully invested in the concept of marrying herself.

Parker? Casually making ten times whatever they spent.

[Ding! Spent: $860,000, earned: $8.6 million] He checked the notification. Balance? Up again.

Ere yawned. “We should let them keep going. By the time we leave, you’ll own another skyscraper.” Ere knew how Parker earned his money after all, now Levi was making sure the cat was involved in everything maybe to bring back her memories quicker.

Tessa and the girls were already heading toward the exit, bags in hand, eyes locked on the next store.

“We’re not done.”

Parker exhaled slowly.

He was being dragged through a gauntlet of luxury.

And somehow?

He was winning.

Tessa, Naomi, and Elena exchanged a look. The kind of look that meant trouble. They huddled together, whispering in girl-code, occasionally glancing at Parker like he was a background character in their heist movie.

Then—they disappeared.

No explanation. No “we’ll be back.” Just gone.

Parker? Not even surprised.

He checked his balance. Money was still flowing. He wasn’t getting a distressed text. No alarms had been triggered. Whatever they were doing? Not his problem.

Ere stretched on his shoulder, tail flicking. “Should we be worried?”

Parker stood, pocketing his phone. “They can handle themselves.”

Ere considered this. “Fair. Where are we going?”

He glanced up.

****

A rooftop restaurant overlooking the entire shopping district. Crystal chandeliers. Private booths with velvet seats. Servers moving like well-dressed ninjas. The menu? No prices. If you had to ask, you didn’t belong here. Parker settled into a corner booth, ordering a glass of citrus juice. Ere? She got a plate of perfectly seared meat.

She sniffed it once, then flicked her ear. “Acceptable.”

Parker sipped his juice, watching the city below. Quiet. Expensive. Stress-free.

Until his phone buzzed.

**

Naomi and Elena stood in the middle of a fashion warzone.

Wardrobe after wardrobe. Racks of clothing that could fill entire penthouses. Every brand. Every season. Every unreleased limited-edition piece.

Tessa? The orchestrator.

She moved with military efficiency, directing store assistants like a fashion general. Naomi— buried under dresses, bags, and coats worth more than a yacht.

“I CAN’T BREATHE—BUT THIS IS HEAVEN.”

Elena— trying on a full designer fit like she was about to walk Paris Fashion Week.

“Do we need this much?”

Tessa? Checking the total cost without flinching.

“We’re building a wardrobe, not a closet.”

Naomi held up a crystal-embellished corset. “This one?”

Elena twirled in a silk maxi dress. “Or this one?”

Tessa, sipping champagne like a billionaire’s daughter should, answered, “Both.”

****

[Ding! Spent: $2.1 million, earned: $21 million]

And they were just getting started.

Parker was halfway through his juice, enjoying the peace, when a tap on his shoulder pulled him back to reality.

He turned slowly.

And there she was.

Atalanta.

White-streaked brown hair. Sharp eyes. The same girl who could probably shoot an arrow through a moving train if she wanted to.

Parker smiled. “Well, if it isn’t Artemis’s favorite disciple.”

Atalanta grinned and took a seat across from him, her gaze flickering toward Ere. Curious. Calculating. Like she could sense something was off.

Parker didn’t miss it. Ah. Right. The Primordial spirits inside her. No wonder she was immediately suspicious. She’s definitely heard about Ere.

Ere, perched beside Parker, stared back at Atalanta like she was evaluating a threat. Her tail flicked once.

Atalanta raised an eyebrow. “So this is the famous cat.”

Parker smirked. “You’ve been talking to Perseus and Chione I assume.”

Atalanta nodded. “They said you had a… strange companion.”

Ere squinted at her. “Strange?”

Atalanta’s lips twitched. “Unusual?”

Ere’s ear flicked. “I accept.”

Parker chuckled and leaned back. “So, what brings you here? Please don’t tell me you got dragged into shopping too.”

Atalanta sighed dramatically. “Thankfully, no. I’d rather fight a Hydra.”

Parker snorted. “Relatable. I’m just here waiting for Tessa and two of my people to finish their economic warfare.”

Atalanta blinked. “Tessa’s here?”

Parker nodded. “With—uh-Naomi and Elena? They vanished to god knows where, probably buying an entire wardrobe’s worth of designer crap.” Atalanta surely knew of both Tessa and Naomi, he was sure.

Atalanta laughed. “That sounds terrifying.”

“Absolutely. That’s why I ran here and ordered a juice. Self-defense

Atalanta leaned forward. “So where have you been these past days? You disappeared.”

Parker shrugged. “Around. You know, running errands, punching problems in the face. The usual.”

She smirked. “Ah, classic Parker.”

He smirked back. “What about you?”

She sighed. “Training. More training. Oh, and getting lectures from Artemis about ‘modern distractions.'”

Parker raised an eyebrow. “Modern distractions?”

Atalanta cleared her throat, mimicking Artemis’s voice, “‘Atalanta, why are you looking at that device? The hunt waits for no one!'”

Parker burst out laughing. “No way. She called your phone a distraction?”

“At first, she thought it was some kind of dark magic seeing how much of me it was taking.”

Parker was dying. “You’re telling me the literal Goddess of the Hunt thought a smartphone was evil?”

Atalanta nodded. “She knows about phones but actually using one was her first time. I tried explaining social media to her. Worst mistake of my life.”

Parker leaned forward, grinning. “What happened?” He found some unusual detail unknowingily but he didn’t ask.

“She got too interested. Started talking about ‘tracking prey through digital trails.’ I might’ve accidentally made her a cyber-hunter.”

Parker wheezed. “You created a digital Artemis. That’s terrifying.”

Atalanta shook her head. “I regret everything.”

Ere? Watching. Judging, still sitting beside Parker, narrowed her eyes at Atalanta. The girl was laughing. Smiling. And worse—Parker was making her laugh.

Suspicious.

Very suspicious.

Ere flicked her tail. “Hmph.”

Parker shot her a look. “What’s with the attitude?”

Ere squinted. “No reason.”

Atalanta grinned, leaning on her elbow. “Does she always do that?”

“Oh, all the time,” Parker said. “She’s like a little furry judge.”

Ere huffed. “I have standards.”

Parker took another sip of his juice. “Yeah? And I’m sure you’ll let me know if I fail to meet them.”

Ere licked her paw smugly. “Absolutely.”

Atalanta laughed again. Parker liked that sound.

Not the Atalanta who was Artemis’s chosen warrior. Not the legendary archer or the girl trained by the gods.

Just a teenager.

Casual. Relaxed. Smiling.

And damn, he liked her smile.