Urban System in America-Chapter 83 - 82: Becoming Invisible Hands

Finding this group felt like unlocking a hidden doorway into a different world—a world where knowledge wasn’t just power, it was profit.

He knew this would be a huge advantage in the future. He couldn’t always rely on the system’s intel, and who knew when he’d get lucky enough to stumble across future news again.

But with this, he didn’t have to worry much. As long as he kept his head clear and planned carefully, there was a real chance he could play the game of stocks for quite a while.

Of course, the information might not be 100% reliable. But it was still far better than the so-called stock gurus, scammers, and propaganda pages flooding the internet.

Thinking about it, his heart pounded a little faster.

Carefully reading through the latest posts, he bookmarked the page.

Just then —

Ding!

A soft electronic chime echoed inside his head, distinct from any real-world noises.

Blinking, he pulled himself away from the computer screen.

Floating just ahead of him was the System’s translucent interface, radiating a soft light.

"[Daily Sign-in Available!]"

"[Claim Reward?]"

He smirked. For a moment, he had completely forgotten about the System’s daily rewards.

Without much hesitation or ceremony, he reached out mentally and selected "Claim."

The interface shimmered, and a prize materialized before his eyes:

------

"[Basic Trace-Reduction System Card]"

[Description: Temporarily obscure trading activity to the level of seasoned institutional traders, deflecting unwanted attention from casual observers such as social media stock gurus and low-level monitors.

Duration: 10 Days

Limitations: Traceable upon deeper analysis by government authorities or sophisticated institutional investigators.

Ineffective against dedicated forensic tracing methods.

Warnings:

Designed as a short-term solution.

Users must comply with applicable laws and regulations regarding stock trading activities.]

-----

Reading the description carefully, Rex raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Well, well, he thought, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. It seems the System is feeling generous these days.

Leaning back in his chair, he folded his arms across his chest thoughtfully.

Honestly, this was exactly what he needed.

Over the past few hours of research, he had become painfully aware that while he possessed more theoretical knowledge than most retail investors, he was still miles behind the smoothness and subtlety of real institutional players.

Sure, he had memorized countless books and case studies thanks to the System’s enhancements and Aeon Glasses.

But raw information wasn’t enough.

Execution mattered.

Operational mastery mattered.

And now, this Trace-Reduction Card was offering him a shortcut.

It won’t make me a ghost, he mused, but it can make me look like a shadow of an institution.

The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

Tomorrow, he planned to move much heavier money into Trivaxa. A careless spike in volume or a visible buying pattern could attract attention—and the last thing he wanted was to have every eagle-eyed trader sniffing around.

He couldn’t afford that.

But now with the Trace-Reduction System Card active, his trades would blend seamlessly into the background noise of algorithmic activity and low-level institutional movements.

His footprints would be boring. Predictable.

Just another nobody chasing a biotech swing — nothing worth investigating.

He reread the warnings carefully. Traceable by authorities if someone dug deep enough.

That was fine.

It’s not like he was planning to break laws. He wasn’t looking to manipulate markets or front-run insider information.

His edge came from information advantage and operational stealth, not insider data or market manipulation.

Still, it made him think.

One day, when the stakes are higher, I’ll need more than just temporary camouflage.

But for now...

For now, this was more than enough.

A wave of ease washed over him. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, feeling the tight coil of tension in his chest loosen.

He opened his eyes, and the confidence was visible in his gaze—sharp, calculating, daring.

A confident smirk etched itself naturally on his face.

Tomorrow would be a big day.

He would start layering his main position properly.

Moving like a professional trader.

Hiding in the shadows.

Maneuvering silently among the whales.

And with this card?

It would almost feel like cheating.

Maybe it really is cheating, he thought with a chuckle. Who cares.

Anyways, it’s not just him, who is cheating here, almost all banks, institutions, governments, executives are utilizing information difference to earn buckets or maybe pools. The only one in the dark are retail investors or you could say leeks.

Anyways, with this card, there’ll be:

No more second-guessing.

No more over-cautious hesitations.

He would move like a professional.

Or at least look like one.

He would just need to act confidently.

The real action would start at 9:30 a.m. tomorrow.

Until then, there was no point exhausting himself further.

He skimmed through his final notes for the night, closing out tabs and reviewing the game plan one last time.

Carefully, he mapped out potential price points, support and resistance levels. He plotted how to split his entries: smaller tranches, subtler iceberg orders, a few dummy trades in adjacent sectors like gene therapy and oncology to muddy his trail further.

The market was a battlefield.

And he wasn’t just another foot soldier anymore.

He was becoming an invisible hand — shaping the battlefield before the generals even realized the game had already begun.

Satisfied, he finally shut down his computer.

The room fell into a strange, sacred silence.

Outside, the night stretched wide and deep, stars twinkling faintly beyond the hazy city lights.

He stretched his arms high, feeling the satisfying pop of his shoulders.

Walking over to the window, he leaned against the frame, looking out over the sleeping world.

The city hummed with distant life — faint horns, flickering neon, the low murmur of sleepless souls.

Somewhere out there, corporations were playing billion-dollar chess games.

Hedge funds were setting traps.

Whales swam unseen, hunting prey.

And tomorrow, he would step into their waters.

Not as bait.

But as a predator in training.

The smile on his lips deepened into something sharper.

He closed his eyes briefly and whispered under his breath:

"Tomorrow... it begins."

(End of Chapter)