Having settled Teri, Hunter returned to the vicinity of his own rented apartnt, only to sense sothing amiss.
His mory was now far superior to that of an average person. In that instant, he felt sothing was subtly off.
He pretended to stop, fishing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.
Hunter took one out, lit it slowly, and stood by the street, smoking leisurely.
His gaze seed to wander casually around his surroundings.
Soon, Hunter's eyes paused slightly as they swept over a corner diagonally across from the apartnt building.
There, a surveillance cara had been installed.
That cara hadn't been there before. He didn't know when it was put up.
Hunter was certain of this.
Ever since he discovered that his rented apartnt was in the sa building where Léon (from Léon: The Professional) and the little girl Mathilda lived...
He had been extrely cautious coming and going.
He had even scouted the area around the apartnt early on.
He had planned multiple escape routes in case of danger.
In the future, Mathilda's father would greedily steal drugs from Stansfield—the corrupt DEA agent who confiscated drugs only to resell them.
Stansfield would then send his n to massacre the family.
This apartnt building would beco a major conflict zone.
Hunter believed in being prepared.
Especially that night when he went to rob Steve's villa...
He had run into Stansfield's n coming to Mathilda's apartnt.
Hunter guessed they were delivering drugs.
The plot of Léon: The Professional should be kicking off in a little over a month.
It had been about twenty days since Hunter went to Steve's villa and stole the two safes.
By his calculation, the plot of Léon was about to begin.
After locking onto the cara, Hunter discreetly glanced at it a few more tis.
Once he confird that its angle perfectly covered the entrance to his apartnt building...
Hunter frowned almost imperceptibly.
"Did Stansfield have his n install that cara?"
He was sure there were no shops or businesses where the new cara was mounted.
And its field of view perfectly captured the apartnt entrance.
He couldn't help but wonder if the corrupt cop Stansfield was behind it.
But thinking it probably wasn't targeted at him, Hunter stopped worrying about it.
Lost in thought, he finished his cigarette.
Hunter wasn't really addicted to smoking. Once finished, he stubbed it out and walked into the building.
He took the stairs up to his ho on the sixth floor.
As he stepped out of the stairwell, he felt a familiar, cold gaze.
He knew it was Léon, the hitman living across the hall, peering through his peephole.
Accustod to it, Hunter paid it no mind.
He took out his key and unlocked his door.
The mont he stepped inside, Hunter's expression turned grim.
"Soone has been in here?!"
The room looked much the sa as when he left over ten days ago.
But with his five attributes at more than double the human average, Hunter possessed heightened sll, hearing, and observation skills.
His mory was also superhuman.
The instant he entered and turned on the lights, he scanned the room subconsciously.
In the small apartnt, several details jumped out at him imdiately.
There were subtle differences from when he left.
"The towel I threw on the sofa has shifted."
"There are wrinkles on the bed sheets that weren't there before."
"The cabinet is angled off by two degrees. The books on the TV have been moved slightly."
"Soone has been in my house!"
Hunter's heart sank, but he quickly controlled his expression.
He walked to the fridge first and opened it to inspect the contents.
There wasn't much inside—just a few drinks and so canned food.
Since he had his Personal Inventory to preserve fresh food perfectly, putting groceries in the fridge was unnecessary; it was basically a prop.
After a careful check, he confird the drinks and cans hadn't been tampered with.
But considering the intrusion, to be safe, Hunter quietly stored all the items into his Inventory.
He planned to dump them in a trash can later.
Then, he took identical items from his Inventory and replaced them in the fridge.
He grabbed a can of cola, opened it, and sipped it as he walked to the bathroom to get a broom.
Pretending to clean the house, he began a thorough sweep for bugs or hidden caras.
He couldn't be blad for being paranoid.
He knew exactly what he had done recently.
Illegally modifying cars and chopping/laundering stolen vehicles was minor stuff.
Secretly leaking the FBI's investigation into Dom Toretto, causing them to fail...
Smuggling millions of dollars worth of stolen electronics to Boston for Dom and fencing them... that was a serious cri.
If caught, US law would easily put him away for a few years.
And, of course...
The boldest thing he'd done in months was beating the master thief Charlie Croker to the punch.
Stealing over $30 million in gold bars and millions more in other assets from Steve.
That alone was enough to earn him twenty years in a US prison.
Although Hunter, as a transmigrator, didn't have strong concepts of good and evil...
That didn't an he was willing to go to jail.
Whoever was targeting him, Hunter needed to identify them fast.
Then, either eliminate the person or eliminate the threat.
Hunter's good life was just beginning.
With a hint of unease and a surge of anger, he began to "clean" the apartnt he hadn't visited in over ten days.
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