Urban System in America-Chapter 90 - 89: The Game Is On

Tuesday — 4:23 a.m.

Rex slowly woke up, no... it’s more like he finally surrendered and sat up in bed, sweating, heart thudding like distant thunder.

He hadn’t slept properly the whole night. Every time he closed his eyes, numbers flashed behind his eyelids, flickering in a chaotic dance of red and green, tension and excitement tangled like vines in his chest, squeezing tighter with every passing hour. And now he had finally given up. And sat up in bed, beads of sweat running down his back.

The darkness of his bedroom seemed to close in around him.

He just sat there staring in darkness to something unknown, his eyes bloodshot, his body hollowed out by adrenaline and sleeplessness.

Still in his rumpled pajamas, he padded barefoot to his desk. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of moon shining brightly outside the window.

His hands trembling slightly as he powered on his laptop, the screen casting an eerie blue light in the otherwise dark room. His fingers hovered over the keyboard as the login screen appeared. The password was entered without thought, muscle memory taking over.

The moment the dashboard loaded, he froze.

Pre-market trading unleashed madness. Trivaxa Pharmaceuticals had erupted higher overnight, opening at $14.93, obliterating all projections. It was no longer a stock—it was a phenomenon. News rained down in waves: partnerships with global healthcare titans, celebrity endorsements, whispers of government contracts. And billionaire investors flocking like moths to a flame. Social media roared louder—#TrivaxaMiracle flooded every platform, pulling even amateurs and skeptics into the frenzy.

Every headline screamed revolution, every media outlet hailed Trivaxa as the miracle drug destined to transform biotech.

It was madness, pure and unfiltered.

Rex sat frozen, watching his portfolio swell beyond recognition. His $1 million had transformed into $5.4 million overnight. A figure so absurd it felt fictional.

For a moment he didn’t know how to react, and finally reality dawned on to him that, his $1 million had became $5.4 million.

Finally, he couldn’t help but grin like a maniac, then he leapt up from his chair, laughing and shouting, unable to hold back the burst of insane joy.

For a few minutes, he celebrated like a madman, spinning around, fists pumping the air, shouting at the walls. He even grabbed a pillow and hugged it, dancing clumsily around his room. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

His laughter tore through the room, echoing off the walls like a madman’s triumph. He paced in circles, running a hand through his hair as the numbers on the screen ticked higher and higher. The ridiculous green glow of success painted his face like war paint.

$5.4 million.

And was still climbing.

But after a while, the initial madness burned off, and the rational side dominated again. Gripping the edge of his desk, He took deep breaths and forced himself to calm down and sat back on his chair.

Because he hadn’t forgotten that Nothing is real until it’s realized. That was one of the first lessons of trading.

The stock market is a brutal place, absolutely brutal, it could kill people without a gun or knife.

Millions could evaporate in the blink of an eye. Liquidation, sudden dumps, manipulated crashes — it wasn’t uncommon.

closing his eyes he centered himself, and kept muttering to himself like a spell.

It was all on paper right now.

Just numbers. Digits.

He didn’t actually have that money yet.

Not until the moment he actually cash out.

And just like that, he kept reviewing and reading the information about Trivaxa.

—

The first rays of morning sunshine crept gently through the window, swashing the entire room in a warm, gentle light. The light touched everything—the scattered coffee cups on the desk, the tangled wires leading to a maze of monitors, and finally, Rex himself. He sat hunched over his desk, illuminated like a figure in an oil painting, his face glowing faintly from the bluish light of the screens.

The room was a silent symphony of gentle contrasts: the warmth of the sun countered by the cool glow of artificial light, the stillness of the air punctuated by the faint hum of his computers. Rex’s focus was absolute. His eyes darted from one news tab to another, scanning every headline, every whisper, every rumor about Trivaxa Pharmaceuticals.

It wasn’t just about the money—not entirely. While the potential fortune loomed like a golden prize on the horizon, Rex treated this like an immersive study. Every article, every analyst’s take, and every speculative post was a nugget of knowledge he absorbed, dissected, and cataloged in his mind. He wasn’t just playing the game—he was learning the rules, memorizing the strategies, understanding the players.

The quiet equilibrium in the room was shattered by a sudden knock at the door.

But he didn’t react. The knock came again, louder this time, persistent enough to pull his attention from the hypnotic dance of numbers on the screen. Rex’s focus finally snapped. He turned toward the door, irritation slipping into his voice.

"Yes?" he called out.

" Boss,It’s time for morning exercise. Aren’t you going today?" came Kaelan’s familiar voice from the other side of the door.

Rex blinked and finally registered the clock on the wall—6:30 AM. Way past the time he usually woke up and went for training. They must have waited for him, and when he didn’t show up, came to check.

The realization doused some of his irritation. He leaned back slightly in his chair, rubbing his temples. His gaze returned to the screens for a moment—the numbers, the graphs, the glowing green streak on his monitor that seemed to pulse with life.

"Sorry, guys," Rex finally replied, his voice less sharp now. "I’ve got something important to do. I can’t make it today. Sorry."

There was a pause before Kaelan’s voice responded again, softer this time, tinged with concern. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I’m fine," Rex replied quickly, perhaps too quickly. "Just working on an important assignment. Nothing to worry about."

"Alright," Kaelan said after a moment, the hesitation clear even through the door. "What about breakfast? Want me to bring you something?"

Rex exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His eyes burned slightly from staring at the screen for too long. The thought of eating felt unnecessary, even intrusive. "I don’t have an appetite right now. I’ll eat later," he said dismissively, his eyes already drifting back to the glowing monitors.

"Okay, boss," Kaelan said, " He didn’t ask any more questions. He understood boundaries.

"If you need anything, we’re right here. Just call us." But he still added.

"Alright, alright," Rex muttered, barely registering the words. His focus had already shifted back to the glowing green pole on his screen, a sharp line breaking through resistance levels as if defying gravity itself. It was almost hypnotic, the way the numbers flickered, climbed, dipped, and danced in a volatile rhythm.

The green hue bathed his face, painting him in the same eerie color as the digital battlefield before him.

The room settled back into its previous state of quiet tension, as if the brief interruption had never occurred. Outside, the distant chirping of birds hinted at a world slowly waking up, but inside, time felt suspended. Rex sat motionless, his eyes fixed, unblinking, on the data dancing before him. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but his mind was locked on one thing.

The game was on, he thought, lips barely parting.

And today would decide everything.

(End of Chapter)