Urban System in America-Chapter 97 - 96: Pretty Boy?

The luxury district buzzed with understated elegance, where every building seemed dipped in wealth and every passerby oozed curated style. A sleek black car slowed and parked effortlessly in front of one of the crown jewels of the street — Luviton, a global icon in high fashion.

The driver’s door opened.

Rex stepped out, calm and confident, dressed in simple yet tasteful attire that subtly enhanced his sharp features. Even in casual clothes, he radiated the kind of charisma that turned heads

As he pushed open the glass doors of Luviton, a rush of cool air and luxury scent washed over him. The store was pristine, with polished marble floors and elegant lighting that bathed everything in a soft, opulent glow. It wasn’t his first time seeing a store like this, he had seen plenty of videos in his last life, but it still impressed him how extravagantly fashion could present itself.

A salesgirl near the entrance noticed him immediately. She froze for half a second, blinking — as if trying to confirm that the breathtaking figure walking in wasn’t some illusion. Then, regaining her composure, she approached with a professional smile, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of astonishment.

"Welcome to Luviton, sir," she said with a warmth that felt more genuine than rehearsed.

Her eyes locked onto him in fascination, not just because he was handsome—she saw handsome men all the time. Celebrities, influencers, even billionaire heirs and top superstars came through those doors regularly. But they were always polished. Styled by top-tier stylists, airbrushed by makeup, dressed in curated pieces, lit perfectly, and then heavily filtered for their social media profiles.

Standing before her now, however, was a man who had none of those enhancements. And yet, he looked... blindingly handsome. So handsome that it made her question every standard she’d held until that moment. She swore, with no exaggeration, that he might just be the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on.

Elsewhere in the boutique, another salesgirl clicked her tongue in envy, regretting not being at the front to greet him first.

Rex gave the greeter a polite nod and a soft smile. "Thank you," he said simply, walking further inside and casually began browsing the men’s section.

As if summoned by some unspoken cue, other staff members turned to look — and in moments, a swarm of well-dressed salesgirls formed around him, their professional demeanors shifted into something more enthusiastic. Their eyes lit up, and they eagerly ushered him toward the latest luxury collection. Before he could even protest, several staff members—mostly young women—surrounded him, arms full of outfits.

"Sir, we just received our latest luxury casual collection. Would you like to take a look?"

"Please try this jacket, it would look amazing on you."

"Sir, let me show you our latest arrivals."

"No, no, come this way—this collection just came in from Milan!"

"Would you like to try something from our exclusive line? It hasn’t even been advertised yet!"

"Oh my God, his proportions are perfect — are you a model?"

Several salesgirls crowded around him, arms filled with blazers, trousers, button-downs, and coats. Some carried shoes. One girl even held up a leather duffle bag and insisted he needed to see how it complemented his build.

He was helpless to resist the flood of suggestions.

He chuckled helplessly as they practically dragged him into the fitting rooms. Every time he emerged in a new outfit, their reactions grew louder, more dramatic.

"So handsome!"

"He’s a perfect clothes hanger!"

"I swear, if he walked onto a runway right now, Paris Fashion Week would collapse."

Even Rex, who was used to being stared at after his transmigration, found the attention slightly overwhelming. He chuckled good-naturedly, brushing off their compliments with modesty.

"No, I’m not a model. Just here for a few casual outfits."

The staff, however, weren’t convinced. They insisted on dressing him in everything—casual, business, semi-formal, and even high-fashion streetwear. One girl practically squealed when he came out in a fitted black turtleneck and slim-cut gray slacks.

As all of this unfolded, customers in the store paused to watch. Strangely, none seemed irritated by the lack of attention from staff. On the contrary, they leaned against shelves and racks, watching the scene unfold with amused smiles. It was like being handed front-row seats to an unexpected fashion show—and Rex was the undisputed star of the runway.

One older lady whispered to her husband, "Forget shopping — this is better than watching TV."

In a surprisingly short time, Rex had tried on almost every new design available for the season. The staff, now positively glowing with admiration, showed no signs of slowing down. ƒrēenovelkiss.com

But Rex?

He was exhausted.

Changing so many times wasn’t as easy as it looked, and his patience—and stamina—were running thin — it was far more draining than it looked.

Meanwhile, the salesgirls looked like they could go another round, their eyes still sparkling with excitement.

Clearing his throat, he finally said with a wry smile, "Ladies, I think it’s enough. Look—there aren’t any clothes left."

The group turned to look around—and froze. The men’s section was practically empty. Dozens of empty hangers swung on racks, and entire shelves were bare. A lone tie lay askew on a display table, as if it too had given up.

An imaginary fly buzzed through the air, emphasizing the quiet.

For a few seconds, the staff stared in stunned silence. Then, laughter bubbled up among them, sheepish and embarrassed.

"Ah... sorry, sir. We might have gotten a bit... carried away," one of them said, face red.

"Please—take your time and choose what you’d like to buy."

Despite their enthusiasm, none of them actually expected him to buy everything. Judging from his casual outfit, he didn’t seem particularly wealthy. It had been enough of a reward to enjoy an impromptu private fashion show starring a living Greek god.

Just as they began tidying up, the entrance bell chimed.

A balding middle-aged man waddled into the store. his thinning hair slicked back and pimples dotting his face like angry punctuation. His eyes scanned the room, irritated to find no staff member greeting him.

He frowned. "Hmph. Is this how a luxury brand treats paying customers?"

His irritation grew as he noticed a noisy crowd gathered at the far end of the store. Curious—and slightly offended—he strutted toward them,His belly — a solid eight-months-pregnant look — bounced with each step.

As he elbowed his way through the crowd, he muttered under his breath, "What’s this circus all about...?"

Then he saw Rex.

Dressed in a designer blazer and trousers that hugged his athletic frame perfectly, Rex was chatting politely with a few staff. The man’s eyes narrowed as he took in the scene—At the center of the attention was a young man—Rex—being pampered like royalty, surrounded by fawning staff and customers alike, their voices filled with laughter and admiration.

The man’s blood boiled.

"Ugh," he grunted, jealousy spiking. If there was one thing he hated—besides his own boss at the firm he worked at—it was pretty boys like this. Guys who relied on their face instead of hard work. While men like him — hard working, experienced, a proud elite of the workforce who climbed the ladder step by step— were ignored.

He clenched his teeth.

Unable to hold it in any longer, raising his voice, he spoke with thick sarcasm.

(End of Chapter)