Urban System in America-Chapter 139 - 138: Finally Back Again

Suddenly, piece by piece, the system space began to collapse. Rex stood there, watching the room—the one he had spent countless years inside—disintegrate into glowing particles. The bed, the desk, the walls—everything disintegrated like sand slipping through invisible fingers, leaving nothing but an endless void.

Then, without warning, the fabric of that nothingness twisted.

A black hole tore open in the darkness—silent, immense, and terrifying.

Before he could react, it pulled him in with a force that defied logic.

His body twisted unnaturally, sensations spiraling out of control. It was like being trapped in a cosmic washing machine—his limbs stretched, his mind disoriented, reality spinning violently around him. His stomach lurched. His thoughts blurred. For a terrifying instant, he wasn’t sure if he was still alive—or if he’d ever existed at all.

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think and couldn’t even scream for help.

And then—

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open—wild and frantic—like a man torn from the grip of a nightmare.

The sound of his own breath echoed around him, ragged and raw.

Huff... Huhhh... Huff... Huhhh...

A sharp gasp tore from his throat as he jolted upright, the sheets twisted and damp against his skin. His chest rose and fell in heaving waves, breath ragged, each inhale scraping the inside of his lungs as if trying to remind him that he was, in fact, still alive. His hands trembled as they curled into fists, sweat slicking his palms.

"Fuck..." he whispered, voice hoarse and dry. "I thought I was gonna die for a second."

His mind was still reeling from the brutal sensation—being stretched and pulled in a hundred directions at once, as if space itself had tried to tear him apart while ejecting him from the system realm. The terror hadn’t fully left him yet. It clung to his spine like frostbite, cold and lingering.

On the bedside table, a glass of water gleamed in the dim light. He grabbed it with both shaky hands and drank greedily, the cool liquid pouring down his throat in great gulps. The taste of water, so plain and simple had never tasted so pure, so alive. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was tethered to something tangible.

He blinked and looked around slowly, still catching his breath. The room hadn’t changed. Same walls. Same desk. Same faded posters on the wall and cluttered shelves. The same prison of familiarity he’d known for years. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

But the Sunlight pouring in through the window, golden and warm, casting long shadows across the wooden floor, told a different story.

He staggered toward it on unsteady legs, not caring about his condition. His knees almost buckled with each step, but he pressed forward, drawn like a moth to the glow. His fingers brushed against the windowsill as he leaned forward and opened the pane.

The cool breeze rushed in, caressing his damp skin and tugging gently at his hair. It smelled of city smoke and cut grass, of life and noise. Outside, birds flitted through the air, their chirps crisp and free. The sun bathed the street below in golden light, spilling over cars, buildings, and people walking by—laughing, talking, living. Far in the distance, the low hum of traffic created a familiar urban symphony.

He stood there, unmoving, his breath catching in his throat. His eyes glistened. A slow, crooked smile spread across his face. It wasn’t polished or handsome—it was raw and unfiltered. The kind of smile a man wears when he’s been lost for decades and finally steps back on solid ground.

Like an astronaut drifting in the void who finally crashes into Earth’s embrace.

Like a shipwrecked sailor who sees land after months of madness at sea.

This seemingly ordinary world—this chaotic, noisy, living world—felt like heaven at this moment.

He took another deep breath, letting it fill every inch of his lungs. The air tasted like sunlight, dust, and home.

Judging by the light and the angle of the sun, it had to be around 4 or 5 p.m. That meant...

He swallowed hard, and quickly did the math.

He had spent nearly twenty-three years inside the system realm.

Twenty-three years of continuous learning, painting and surviving.

He had lived almost an entire lifetime in that space.

"Wait...If it’s around 4 PM?" he muttered, eyes narrowing. "Which means I’ve been out for... twenty hours straight?!"

Gasping,he groaned as he stretched, every bone cracking like dry twigs.

"So that’s why my body’s feeling so sore," he muttered, rolling his neck. "Damn! I really had foresight to use the card in my room. If I activated it anywhere else, it would’ve been a disaster... And if someone attacked during that time—"

He shuddered at the thought.

"—I’d have been completely defenseless."

[Ahem.]

The System’s familiar, infuriatingly calm voice echoed in his head.

[Host, no need to be so dramatic. It was just twenty years, not two hundred or two thousand. Besides, the system’s protective mechanism ensures no external force can harm your body during such training periods. So chill. No need to overreact.]

His eye twitched.

"Oh. So the dog system is still alive, huh?" he snapped. "Just twenty years? Do you even hear yourself?"

[Of course. I have perfect auditory calibration.]

"You’ve got a perfect death wish, is what you have," Rex growled. "Do you even understand how much that is to a human? We only get, what—five of those if we’re lucky? Twenty years is a quarter of a human life! A whole adulthood! You think I’m immortal or something?"

"And you didn’t even bother to warn me that it’d take so long this time! I thought I was hopping in for a quick upgrade—not a full-blown time-skip training arc!"

[Host, please. . Don’t be so melodramatic. You’re acting like I dragged you in against your will. You activated the card yourself. Now don’t act like I tricked you.]

"You never said it would feel like being put through a cosmic blender, either! Humph! If I fall into one of your dirty schemes again, I swear.... I-i’ll be a dog!" He muttered through gritted teeth

[Says the guy barking at thin air.]

"You—!" Rex jabbed a finger at the air like the System had a face. "I swear, one day I’ll find your core code and delete you line by line."

[Sure, sure. But until then... welcome back, Host. Hope you enjoyed your ’nap.’]

(End of Chapter)