Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

Cleopatra leaned back in her chair, flashing that practiced, magazine-cover smile like she was posing for a damn photo shoot. She had that whole effortlessly hot thing mastered—the kind of girl who knew exactly how much to smirk, exactly when to tilt her head for effect. But Parker? Yeah, he wasn't impressed.

"So," she started, stirring her straw in a sparkling water she hadn't ordered. "you agree how crazy seeing you here is. Small world, huh?"

"Yeah. Wild." Parker didn't look up from his food, cutting another piece of chicken without a glance.

Silence.

Cleopatra blinked, clearly not used to being blown off this fast. She shifted tactics. "So, Parker... You never mentioned you went to this school when we trained together." Seriously? Where did that even come from?

Parker nodded, unimpressed. "Didn't come up."

Her lips parted slightly like she wanted to keep pushing, but his eyes flicked up—sharp, cold, done—and she clamped her mouth shut for a second.

But not for long.

Cleopatra was nothing if not persistent.

Midway through his next bite, she suddenly raised her hand and snapped her fingers. "You!" She pointed at some random sophomore nearby, a scrawny kid with a stack of overpriced textbooks and no idea what the hell was happening.

The kid blinked. "Uh... me?"

"Yes, you." She gestured at Parker's plate like she was commanding a damn waiter. "I want exactly what he's having. Same meal. Now."

For a beat, Parker just stared, fork halfway to his mouth.

The dude? He ran. Full-on sprinted toward the food counter, moving like his life depended on it. And, surprisingly, he was back faster than Naomi had been with Parker's original meal. Plate perfectly balanced. Food identical.

Cleopatra smiled, brushing her hands off like she'd just conquered a minor inconvenience. "See? Now we're matching. Cute, right?"

Parker finally set his fork down, exhaling like he was this close to flipping the damn table. His stare fixed on her, flat as hell.

"Cleopatra, right?"

She blinked but nodded.

"I don't do matching meals."

Another silence.

Naomi? Snickering. Quiet, under her breath, just enough for Parker to catch. She was loving this way too much.

Cleopatra recovered fast, straightening like she hadn't just taken a massive L. "Oh, come on. Don't be so uptight. We were gym buddies, remember? You could lighten up."

"Gym trainer," Parker corrected, cutting her off again, voice calm but sharp. "You were a good coach. Let's leave it at that."

Boom. Another shutdown.

Naomi nearly choked on her salad. She covered her mouth, but her eyes were practically screaming, Did he just say that?!
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Cleopatra, to her credit, tried to keep her cool. But the cracks were showing. Her smile was a little tighter now, her nails drumming against the table. She tossed her hair back—classic distraction move—and tried again.

"So, Parker," she purred, voice dropping a little. "Why don't you tell me what you've been up to lately? You know, since our last—"

"I'm eating," he interrupted.

Dead silence.

Naomi? Full-on silent laughing now, eyes squeezed shut as she pretended to focus on her plate. Cleopatra looked like she might actually combust. But before she could fire back—

BAM.

The cafeteria doors slammed open.

And in walked Maya Winslow.

The energy shifted instantly.

The whole damn room stopped.

Maya wasn't just a student. She was the student. School royalty, dripping head to toe in designer—Valentino skirt, Gucci loafers, Cartier bracelet so thin it looked like it could buy someone's tuition outright. Her hair? Perfect waves. Her makeup? Flawless, like she'd just stepped off a Vogue cover.

Naomi gasped. It was clear to those who had seen her hours ago, Maya had done a makeover on herself completely, clearly to impress.

And the attitude? Yeah. Untouchable.

The second she walked in, the chatter died. Heads turned. Conversations cut off mid-sentence. People whispered, but low, like they didn't wanna risk getting caught.

She was that girl.

And now? She was striding right toward their table.

Cleopatra shifted, clearly noticing too. She straightened, plastering on a fresh smile—like she wanted to seem cool, collected. But Parker saw the way her jaw tightened just slightly. The way her grip on the fork turned white-knuckled.

Maya Winslow? She was Cleopatra's kryptonite.

And Parker? He was about to enjoy this, 'Two ancient girls, huh? And it's clear they know of each other's presence!' Parker smirked.

[Ding!] Well it seems like the system won't let him enjoy this alone.

[Ultimate Choice function activated...

Confrontation between a Champion and an Origin Descendants.

Option 1: Assert dominance and attract attention from everyone.

Reward: Attention from other Champions, +5 AP for Maya and Cleopatra!

Option 2. Take a side.

Rewards: Clingy Obsession Aura (Maya's side), +5 AP for Cleopatra. (Cleopatra's side)

Option 3. Sit down and watch as you had planned.

Reward: Invisible Presence!]

Parker didn't even think twice, no he didn't even bother think. 'Option 3'

[Ding! Invisible Presence;

Origin Families and Champions can no longer sense you even if your close to them unless they see you! (Passive)]

'So they'd been able to trace my presence. Why I am I not even surprised?' while in his mind the tension in the cafeteria thickened the moment Maya stopped just shy of their table.

Her clique—three perfectly manicured girls with matching hair extensions and those thousand-dollar tote bags—lingered behind her, forming a wall like they'd been prepped for this showdown. Because, hell yeah, they had.

Maya stood there, arms folded under her chest, practically daring Cleopatra to meet her gaze. And yeah, Cleo did just that, leaning back in her seat, head tilted like some ancient queen on her throne. Two powerhouses, not just the most popular girls on campus, finally face to face.

But neither was backing down.

Maya's voice was sharp, cutting straight through the cafeteria noise. "What exactly do you think you're doing here, Cleopatra?"

She didn't even glance at Naomi in malice. Which wasn't an accident—Maya knew damn well Naomi was under Parker's protection.

Saying anything to her would be like torching the tiny, fragile-ass bridge that barely existed between her and Parker.

Cleopatra blinked, genuinely surprised for a beat, then her lips curled into a smirk—one of those slow, dangerous ones, full of attitude. "I'm talking to my student." Her head tilted slightly toward Parker, the smirk deepening as if daring Maya to ask more.

Maya's brow twitched. "Student?" Her voice dropped into that what the fuck did you just say? tone.

Cleopatra gave an exaggerated shrug, swirling her drink like this whole thing was just a minor inconvenience in her very busy life. "Parker," she gestured lazily, "was my gym student for weeks. I trained him. That body you're so clearly eyeing? My work."

Maya blinked. What? She hadn't expected that. Her eyes narrowed, and suddenly she was staring straight at Parker, voice all faux sweet. "Honey, since when were you taking lessons with her?"

Parker didn't even glance up. Scrolling on his phone, fork in his other hand, the literal picture of calm. "Does it matter?"

Naomi, across from him, bit her lip hard, clearly holding back laughter as Cleopatra's smugness grew and Maya's face turned several shades redder.

Cleopatra pressed further, her voice all syrupy condescension. "Two weeks ago, actually. And I'm proud of his progress. I mean, he listens to instruction so well. Maybe you should try it sometime, Maya."

Wait what? Parker gasped. Why did that sound...