Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

Chapter 117 Nyxilith & The Voidhowl

The sharp, echoing crack jolted him back to reality. Someone had slammed their hand on the coffee table, hard enough to rattle the glass centerpiece.

Annabelle's voice cut through his haze, all sarcasm. "Yah! What the hell is wrong with you? Spaced out or something? Not used to that hot body yet?"

Parker barely registered it. His vision was still spinning.

Parker's chest was heaving, blood pounding loud in his ears as the cold, crawling dread in his stomach twisted into full-blown panic. His eyes darted between them—the whole damn family—Julian, Annabelle, Robert, Vivian… and Helena. The Blackwoods.

Or whoever the hell they were.

His voice cracked, raw and furious. "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU PEOPLE?!"

[DING! HOST RUN!]

"Master... Run!" Ere and the system whispered in his mind at once!

The words echoed, loud enough to shake the air, but they just stared. Unflinching. Silent. Knowing.

He couldn't take it.

Screw this. Screw them, he did exactly as the system and Ere warned him. He could feel the increasing power building up in Robert.

Fingers trembling, Parker yanked his keys from his pocket, spun on his heel, and bolted for the door. The Lambo sat waiting like a black, low-slung beast on the driveway, sunlight bouncing off its sharp angles. His sanctuary. His fucking escape.

The door barely slammed shut before he jammed the car into the ignition. The engine roared to life, purring under his touch like it always did. His foot slammed the gas pedal to the floor.

The Lambo's engine roared like a beast unleashed, the growl echoing off the mansion walls as Parker floored the pedal. Tires screamed against the stone driveway, a burst of smoke rising from the friction—but the car didn't budge. Not an inch.

"What the—"

He slammed the accelerator again, harder this time, the RPMs redlining, the dashboard vibrating under the strain. The whole chassis shook violently, the back tires fighting to spin, burning rubber staining the air with that bitter, stinging smell—

But it still wouldn't move.

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The car jerked like something had snapped tight around it. The front end lurched, metal groaning, the entire vehicle trembling like it was caught in the jaws of something colossal and invisible.

"Move, damn it!"

He clenched his teeth, channeling Omni Energy through his body, the power surging into the car itself—amplifying, twisting reality, forcing every part of the machine to respond. The entire Lambo lifted an inch off the ground as his telekinesis flexed—

Still nothing.

The invisible force around it tightened, crushing back down, slamming the tires back onto the stone with a deafening BANG. The windshield cracked at the corner.

"FUCKING MOVE!"

Parker's grip tightened on the steering wheel, leather creaking under his fingers. Raw power poured from him, his energy flooding the entire space—gravity warped, the air rippling, glass in the mansion windows vibrating from the sheer tension—

And yet the car stayed frozen, locked in place like the entire universe was holding it down.

The Lambo shuddered violently again, the entire front end jerking forward only to be yanked back so hard Parker slammed against the seat.

The engine coughed. Sputtered. Died.

Silence.

Breath heaving, pulse thundering in his ears, Parker's heart stopped when Ere's voice whispered softly beside him.

"I'm sorry, Master... see you in a few."

The ground beneath the Lambo ripped open—a swirling void of black and violet energy tearing reality apart in a perfect circle.

And the entire car was dragged down.

No impact. No crash. Just—gone.

The silence was deafening.

And then—

"VOIDHOWL!!!"

Helena's voice detonated across the estate, raw and unfiltered fury woven into every syllable. It wasn't just yelling—this was power, thick and suffocating, like the entire house had been trapped inside a pressure cooker. The walls trembled. The floorboards groaned.

Robert, still standing there, his hand outstretched where the car had just disappeared, didn't even have time to react.

"ARE YOU FUCKING COURTING DEATH?! HOW DARE YOU TRY TO ATTACK A NYXILITH?!"

The echo hit first. Just the echo.

The force crashed into him like a physical blow, ripping the air apart as it slammed into his chest.

BOOM.

Robert was launched backward. His feet left the ground. His back cracked against the marble wall so hard the damn thing split like glass. Fractures spiderwebbed from the impact point, pieces crumbling around him as he slumped, stunned, his face pale.

The house went dead silent.

And yet Helena hadn't even moved.

****

The mansion's massive underground garage was silent—almost too silent. Rows of luxury cars sat polished to perfection under the soft glow of white overhead lights. The two Rolls-Royces gleamed like twin obsidian beasts, the crimson Speedtail reflecting the light with a predator's grace.

Then the portal opened.

A violent tear in reality itself—jagged, violet energy crackling out like lightning. The void expanded wider, twisting the air, bending light itself until the very edges of the garage seemed to distort under its presence.

And then—BAM!

The Lambo came plummeting from the rift, slamming down hard enough to make the ground shake on impact. The suspension groaned, metal screeching, the entire frame buckling slightly under the force before bouncing once and settling with a low, mechanical whine.

Parker's body slumped in the driver's seat, head knocked forward against the steering wheel with a dull, unforgiving thud. Blood trailed sluggishly from his temple, but he didn't stir. He was completely out his head buried in airbag.

For a moment, the only sound was the faint drip of coolant hissing from the overworked engine.

Then the garage began to shake.

The floor vibrated, softly at first—then violently, a pulse that grew stronger with each second. The Rolls-Royces rattled on their suspensions, headlights flickering as alarms blared for half a second before cutting off. The crimson Speedtail shifted, rocking on its wheels, its sleek body shuddering like it might just tip over.

But the Range Rover wasn't there.

The quake built. Dust drifted from the ceiling. And then—silence.

Utter. Complete. Stillness.

A soft, metallic clink echoed through the garage.

Above the Lambo's crushed hood, something shimmered into existence, materializing from thin air with a pulse of blue light—an old, weathered compass.

Parker's father's compass. The one he always kept on him.

It hovered for a heartbeat, almost reverent—before it dropped, landing dead center on the Lambo's hood with a hollow, final thunk.

His breathing stabilized then the compass disappeared again...

*******

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