As the mories of two distinct souls fused, the dizzying discomfort plaguing Hunter's body began to fade.
Physically, he was stabilizing, but ntally, he was still scrambling. How exactly was he supposed to interact with Dom and these main characters from Fast and Furious?
"Dom," Hunter said, breaking the silence. "I think I hit my head pretty hard. I've got a mild concussion—nauseous, dizzy. Can I take a sick day and go rest?"
Dom nodded, his large hand landing gently on Hunter's shoulder.
"Go ahead, kid," Dom rumbled. "Make sure you stop by the clinic and get checked out."
Despite his criminal reputation, Dom was generous and fiercely protective of his circle. While he didn't own the entire garage, his underground racing activities ant he needed a reliable spot for maintenance. Consequently, he looked out for the chanics here.
"Thanks, Dom."
Clutching his throbbing head, Hunter allowed a few coworkers to help him to his feet.
He didn't even glance at Vince, who was still glaring daggers at him. Hunter simply turned and walked out of the garage.
Right now, he was in no shape to fight. Vince was a tank of a man who robbed semi-trucks on the highway for a living. Hunter, in his current state, would just be a punching bag.
But Hunter knew the golden rule: revenge is a dish best served cold.
Vince was a hothead—violent, reckless, and destined for disaster. In the original movie, his temper gets him shot, forcing him into exile for years. Even when he finally returns, he ends up dead shortly after.
Hunter could afford to wait. There was no rush to settle the score for his predecessor just yet.
Stepping out of the fu-filled garage, a fresh sea breeze hit his face. The salty air instantly cleared his head, lifting his spirits.
This was Los Angeles, one of Arica's largest tropolises and ho to its busiest container port. Thanks to its coastal location, the weather was pleasant year-round—a paradise, at least for those with money.
Having fully digested Hunter's mories, Hunter knew exactly where he was going.
The house Hunter's parents left behind was currently tied up in probate, waiting to be sold to cover the inheritance taxes. In the anti, Hunter was renting a small apartnt a few miles away.
Hunter walked over to the parking area and stopped in front of a battered motorcycle.
It was Hunter's pride and joy—or rather, the only thing he could afford. A seventh-hand junker he'd scavenged from the shop for seven hundred bucks. The bike was nearly as old as he was. Despite Hunter's best efforts to fix it up, it was still plagued with issues, but it beat walking.
The commute was about four miles, a quick ride.
Hunter wasn't a stranger to bikes; he'd ridden one in his past life. He straddled the seat, fished out the key, and kicked the engine to life.
With a wheezing roar, the problem-riddled machine shuddered into action.
But as he pulled onto the road, Hunter's focus wasn't on the bike's terrible suspension or the rattling engine.
His expression twisted into one of utter shock.
The mont the wheels started turning, a cold, chanical voice echoed inside his skull.
[Ding! Proficiency System Activated!]
[Personal Attribute Template Unlocked. Access via ntal command.]
[Personal Inventory Unlocked. Access via ntal command.]
[Host is currently driving. Generating Skill: Driving.]
[Current Driving Level: Lv 0. EXP to next level: 100.]
[Gain 1 EXP for every kiloter driven manually. EXP gain varies based on vehicle type and road conditions.]
[Leveling up skills will grant significant rewards.]
[Please explore further functions independently.]
It took every ounce of willpower Hunter possessed not to slam on the brakes in the middle of traffic to investigate.
Instead, he sped toward his apartnt, his heart racing as the notification [Driving EXP 1] chid in his head every so often. The four-mile journey felt like it took a lifeti.
Finally, he arrived. He parked hurriedly, snatched the key, and practically sprinted up to his unit.
Hunter's rental was in an old, post-WWII apartnt complex. It was run-down, and the unit itself was a tiny studio, barely three hundred square feet. But rent was cheap, which was all that mattered.
Hunter reached his door, instinctively pulling out his house key.
The mont he slid the key into the lock and turned it, the chanical voice returned.
[Ding! Lockpicking action detected. Generating Skill: Lockpicking.]
[Current Lockpicking Level: Lv 0. EXP to next level: 100.]
[Gain 1 EXP for every unique lock opened. No restriction on thod.]
[Using simpler tools on more complex locks yields higher EXP.]
Hunter froze, then a wild grin spread across his face.
He threw the door open, stepped inside, and slamd it shut behind him. Collapsing onto the worn sofa, he took a deep breath and issued the ntal command.
"Status Window."
Instantly, a translucent screen of light materialized in his vision.
[Host: Hunter (Hunter Sun)]
[Lifespan: 18 / 72]
[Attributes]
Intelligence: 9 (World Average: 10)
Strength: 7 (World Average: 10)
Agility: 8 (World Average: 10)
Constitution: 7 (World Average: 10)
Endurance: 7 (World Average: 10)
[Free Attribute Points: 0]
[Skill List]
Driving (Lv 0 - 6/100): Rookie Driver. Nothing impressive to see here.Lockpicking (Lv 0 - 1/100): Without a key, you're locked out.
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