Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

Parker tapped the dark-tinted glass. "Alright, this one's sketchy as fuck."

Tessa grinned like that was a compliment. "I know, right?"

Atalanta squinted. "So, where did it come from?"

Tessa leaned against it, voice dropping into conspiracy-theory mode.

"Auction house in Germany, 1982. No official seller, no official buyer. Just showed up one day in an unmarked crate. The few mechanics who got to inspect it said the tech inside was decades ahead of anything they'd ever seen."

Parker raised an eyebrow. "And it doesn't run on gas?"

Tessa tapped the side panel. "Nope. No tank. No combustion engine. Just something else."

Atalanta blinked. "…Define something else."

Tessa shrugged. "That's the fun part—we don't fucking know."

Parker let out a slow exhale. "So you own a potential alien car."

Tessa winked. "Or a lost government prototype. Either way? Sick as hell."

Atalanta just sighed. "Do you guys even drive these, or just look at them like expensive action figures?"

Tessa tilted her head. "Both."

After the ancient myth-tier machines, they moved deeper into the vault—where things stopped being historically interesting and started getting downright psychotic.

Tessa clapped her hands. "Alright, welcome to Phase Two—where nothing costs less than twenty-five million dollars and common sense no longer applies."

The Lamborghini Reventón X was a one-of-one—because the Wilders had specifically asked Lamborghini to make one that they'd fucking customize to their liking, and when you had fuck-you money, companies just do that for you. Matte black. Carbon-weave finish. Fighter-jet HUD.

Tessa smirked, patting the roof. "Parker, this one's yours if you ask nicely."

Parker side-eyed her. "If I wanted to die in a Batmobile, I'd just piss off Batman."

Tessa laughed. "Fair."

The next was a Koenigsegg Jesko—already fucking ridiculous. The Wilders' version? Banned from public roads in every country that had laws. Parker ran a hand over the satin white paint, taking in the massive rear wing, the barely legal ground clearance.

"Alright, how fast is this one?"

Tessa tapped the hood. "You take this on a highway? You don't drive it—you experience an out-of-body event at 300 mph."

Atalanta nodded slowly. "So… a death trap."

Tessa grinned. "Exactly."

Another was McLaren F1 LM "Wild Spec" A regular F1 LM? Already worth over $30 million. The Wilders' version?

Rebuilt from the chassis up.

Stripped weight.

Recalibrated suspension.

Hybrid-assisted V12.

Custom aerodynamics made from military-grade materials.

Parker whistled. "Alright, I'll admit—this one's kind of sick."

Tessa shot finger guns. "See? He gets it."

Atalanta frowned. "It looks normal compared to the other two."

Tessa shook her head. "Oh sweet summer child. This thing makes grown men cry."

At the very back of the vault was a massive steel door, thick enough to survive a nuclear apocalypse. Tessa grinned, pressing a handprint scanner. "Alright, time for the finale."

The door unlocked with a heavy hiss, revealing a single car sitting under a spotlight.

The Wilder "One-Off" – the $100m question mark

No name. No badging. No official specs.

Just a completely hand-built hypercar with:

A jet-engine-inspired powertrain.

Magnetic suspension.

An AI-assisted driving system that learns how you drive and adjusts in real-time. Parker stared at it. "…How the fuck do you even insure something like this?"

Tessa crossed her arms. "You don't. You just hope for the best."

Atalanta slowly turned to Parker. "She's insane."

Parker nodded. "Yeah, but at least she knows it."

Tessa winked. "Damn right." She didn't let them admire it for so long and took caught his hand. With that, she spun on her heel, tossing a casual, "You guys ready to see the VIP madness?"

Parker exhaled, running a hand down his face. "After that? Yeah, I could use a drink."

After walking through history, conspiracies, and one car that probably committed a crime, Tessa finally led them into what she called "the fun section".

A massive, dimly lit showroom stretched before them—polished floors reflecting the neon glow from the ceiling. If the last room was legendary, this one was just rich people fucking around.

Atalanta squinted. "So, this is where the billionaires lose their sanity?"

Tessa shot finger guns. "Correct."

Atalanta raised an eyebrow. "And everything in here costs…?"

Tessa clapped her hands together. "Oh, nothing crazy. Just a minimum of $30 million a pop."

Atalanta's jaw twitched. "…I hate you."

They moved through the showroom, where each car was a straight-up insult to normal human logic. Tessa walked like a museum guide who had better things to do, casually pointing at automotive war crimes as they passed.

Bugatti Bolide SSX – $35M, matte black beast sat under the lights, looking less like a car and more like it was built to hunt down rogue AI in a cyberpunk dystopia. Its low, wide stance screamed one thing: Speed. But not just any speed. Illegal speed. The kind that NASA probably needed to regulate.

Parker tapped the carbon fiber. "Alright, how fast are we talking?"

Tessa grinned like a maniac. "That depends—do you count before or after it breaks the sound barrier?"

Atalanta frowned. "You're joking."

Tessa shrugged. "Bitch, I wish I was."

Next up?Pagani Huayra X 'Typhoon' – $32M. A glossy, deep blue Pagani with so many exposed aerodynamics it looked unfinished—like some engineer had a mid-life crisis and said fuck it, let's strap wings to it.

Tessa patted the hood. "1,800 horsepower, twin-turbo hybrid. Faster than your ex's rebound."

Parker tilted his head. "This thing looks unstable as hell."

Tessa nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yeah, it makes grown men question their life choices at 250 mph."

A Aston Martin Valkyrie R2 – $30M sat there right next, chill like it wasn't just long, sharp but also so aggressively aerodynamic it looked like it was designed by aliens.

Atalanta folded her arms. "So this one's actually drivable?"

Tessa rubbed her chin, pretending to think. "Mmm… define drivable. Like, yes, it can move. Will it obey you? That's up for debate."

Parker exhaled. "So it's basically an F1 car pretending to be street-legal."

Tessa snapped her fingers. "Bingo."

****

A bright crimson Ferrari FXX-K Evo GT sat like a predator ready to break records and ruin egos.

Parker leaned in. "Okay, at least this one looks normal."

Tessa scoffed. "Yeah, if 'normal' means it'll gap an F1 car in a straight line."

Atalanta narrowed her eyes. "You guys buy these to actually drive, right? Not just… look at them?"

Tessa tilted her head. "Both. I told you that."

Atalanta squinted. "…I don't believe you."

Long. Low. Deadly. Hennessey Venom F5-X pitch-black American monster sat there as Parker blessed it with his hands, looking like it wanted to commit a felony at insane speeds.

Atalanta tapped the windshield. "…Why do I feel like this one's aggressive?"

Tessa snickered. "Because it is. This thing wants you dead."

Parker raised an eyebrow. "Like… how fast?"

Tessa gave him a serious look. "310 mph. Give or take."

Parker stared. "…I'm sorry, what?"

Tessa grinned. "You blink? You're in another state."

Tessa moved on to a McLaren Solus GT-R 'Wilder Spec' white and blue spaceship in the middle of the floor, looking like it had escaped from a futuristic racing game.

Parker walked around it. "…This doesn't have doors."

Tessa nodded proudly. "Nope. You slide in through the roof. Like a jet."

Atalanta blinked. "That's not a car. That's a death wish."

Tessa shrugged. "And yet? Here it is."

An attendant pointed to another one, one of the classics in here, a Zenvo Aurora PXR at $30M+

A matte-gray hypercar with razor-sharp edges and a cockpit so low it might as well be a sled.

Parker ran a hand over the body. "Alright, I know this one's dangerous."

Tessa grinned like a psycho. "Oh, absolutely. 1,500 horsepower, twin-turbo V12. This thing doesn't just go fast—it fucking demands it."

Atalanta just shook her head. "You people should not have money."

Tessa clapped her hands. "And yet—we do."

Parker rubbed his face. "I swear, every car in here is a weapon."

Tessa winked. "That's the fun part."

Atalanta looked at the lineup of hypercars, then at Tessa, then at Parker. Finally, she sighed. "I need alcohol."

Tessa turned toward the VIP lounge doors, tossing over her shoulder—

"Then let's get trashed before we start questioning our life choices. Next we will go get your cars, dear. And trust me they're another problem when you get there."

Parker exhaled. "Oh, I'm already there."