Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

The Phantom glided out of the garage like royalty, its engine now a low, velvety purr as Parker eased it toward the gates of his estate. The retreating daylight stretched long shadows across the marble, warm golds and deep purples dancing on the sleek black paint. It was like the sun itself was bowing out, giving way to something... bigger.

The massive iron gates whispered open, and as he crossed that threshold, Parker felt it again—that undeniable flex. The sportscars in his collection? Sure, they were fun, loud, fast. But this? This wasn't speed. This was presence. The kind of car you didn't race in. You arrived. No fanfare needed. The world just... noticed.

Leaning back into the plush leather, he let his hand settle on the wheel, barely pressing the gas as the Phantom glided onto the open road.

Inside, soft music played from the Bespoke Audio system, the kind of sound so clear it felt like the band was performing inside the cabin. Some laid-back jazz mixed with modern synth. Vibey. He tapped his fingers on the wheel in time with the rhythm, humming a little under his breath.

Yeah. This was it.

The city blurred past, glass towers reflecting the dying light while the world outside felt distant. Muted. All the noise, the chaos? Gone. Inside the Phantom, it was just Parker, the music, and the ridiculous luxury.

He didn't rush, letting the drive feel like part of the reward as he headed toward JPMorgan Chase branch. They'd called. His cash was ready.

Because, yeah—cards were cool and all. Limitless. But there was something that felt foolishly good about holding cash. Real, tangible stacks of power. Plus, who didn't secretly love fetish for the sight of bundles of $100 bills sitting pretty in the backseat of a Rolls-Royce?

The bank came into view, all glass, steel, and towering prestige. A place built on the old kind of money. Parker parked right at the entrance. No valet. No parking garage. The Phantom was its own damn parking pass.

Stepping out, he adjusted his jacket, the soft cashmere brushing his wrists as the doors glided shut behind him with that signature Rolls click.

Inside, everything was quiet power. The kind of place where you didn't hear keyboards clacking or phones ringing. Just low voices, polished marble, and those rich, dark wood panels lining the walls.

A suited banker was already waiting for him by the private client section, hands clasped, the kind of smile that said, You don't wait here. We're ready for you.

"Mr. Black, I assume?" Parker nodded. "Right this way."

He followed through the private banking lounge, spotless. Leather seating. Crystal glasses with perfectly cut ice on standby. Parker didn't sit. No point. This wasn't a meeting.

The man returned moments later, holding a discreet, unmarked security case. He set it on the polished table, spinning it toward Parker before unlocking it with a single, loud click.

Inside?

Stacks. Thick bundles of $100 bills, perfectly wrapped, the faint scent of fresh ink and cotton paper rising from the case.

"$700,000, as requested by Ms. Cassidy Reed. Would you like us to assist with transportation?"

Parker shook his head, he had already summoned a Louis Vuitton duffle from his inventory when the man went to fetch the money. Midnight black, stitched to perfection, the kind of bag designed for absurd money flexes.

Without a word, he transferred the cash himself, bundle by bundle, watching the case empty with quiet satisfaction. The man didn't even ask where the bag came from, maybe he didn't see it when Parker came inside?

Zipping the bag closed, he slung it over his shoulder, gave the banker a polite nod, and strolled back to the Phantom, still idling like it knew he was far from done for the night.

The door whispered shut, sealing him in again.

He tossed the LV bag into the backseat like it was nothing. Just a casual $700k sitting there like a forgotten gym bag. Cassidy had requested more than he had needed which was a plus.

Leaning back, he exhaled, one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting his watch as the city lights blinked to life outside.

"Guess you'll be taking me to school every day too, huh?" he muttered, smirking as he tapped the gas.

The Phantom pulled away, effortless.

Driving past a corner, he caught a glimpse of a group of girls—early twenties, maybe—taking selfies in front of some glass building, probably for their feeds. Giggles. Poses. Trying to catch the perfect shot with the city skyline behind them.

Parker? He chuckled.

"The records of youth."

His youth, though? It was different. While they were out here chasing likes, his version of "teenage flex" was rolling around in a car most millionaires didn't even own, $700,000 in cash in the backseat, and enough wealth to outshine the first son of the United States.
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Not bragging. Just facts.

But still... Damn.

The Phantom cruised smooth as hell, barely making a sound as Parker let the city pass by. The streets blurred, neon signs flickering to life against the evening sky while the last hints of sunlight bled out over the skyline. The traffic was its usual chaos, but inside the Rolls? Untouchable.

And then, out of nowhere—he saw it.

McDonald's.

That big-ass golden "M" glowing obnoxiously bright on the corner like it had been placed there by fate.

His stomach growled. Crispy fries. Super crispy chicken. Fuck, it had been days since he ate anything outside his estate. Real food, not some imported Wagyu or a five-star plated meal that felt more like art than dinner.

He craved something greasy, sinful.

"Alright... why the hell not?" he muttered, lips curving into a smirk.

With a gentle twist of the wheel, the Phantom slid toward the entrance. The V12 let out a low rumble as he pulled into the small lot, taking up way too much space for a fast-food joint. Heads turned instantly. Because of course they did.

A Rolls-Royce Phantom. Parked in front of a damn McDonald's.

A couple of teens sitting at the window straight-up stopped chewing. One guy pulled out his phone like he was about to livestream the whole thing. Hah!

*****

Throw those gifts to this humble villainous soul please.