Los Angeles' Chinatown wasn't as sprawling as New York's, but the rent was steep. It was safer than other immigrant enclaves, which drove up the demand.
Hunter's wallet wasn't overflowing yet, so he compromised.
He didn't rent in Chinatown. Instead, he found an apartnt building right next to it, in a neighborhood dominated by Italian immigrants.
It was a six-story building facing the street. No elevator, but the environnt was decent.
The rental agent told him the building was constructed in the 1970s—pushing thirty years old. Most tenants were middle-aged or elderly, and occupancy was barely over 50%.
Hunter confird the area didn't have complex gang issues. He wouldn't be woken up by midnight gunfights.
Sold.
He chose a unit on the sixth floor.
It wasn't huge, but compared to his previous rat hole, it was a palace.
Two bedrooms, one living room, one bathroom, one kitchen. About 650 square feet. The kitchen and bathroom were tiny—maybe 40 square feet each—but for a bachelor, it was plenty.
The only downside was parking. The nearest lot was over half a mile away.
If Mia visited, parking would be a hassle.
But the upgrade in quality was worth it. Rent was $1,500 a month—double what he paid before.
With his recent windfall, Hunter signed a three-month short-term lease. He'd decide whether to renew later.
Hunter spent the day shopping in Chinatown.
His new apartnt had a fridge and a TV, but nothing else. He needed clothes, underwear, shoes, bedding, pots, and pans. He had left everything behind at the old place.
He enjoyed the retail therapy.
And thanks to his Personal Inventory, carrying the haul was effortless. He'd buy items, find a secluded spot, and poof—gone.
Hunter still had a conscience. He had no qualms about robbing criminals ("black-on-black"), but he wouldn't steal from ordinary businesses.
If he wanted to, he could easily abuse his inventory to empty supermarkets and departnt stores without paying a di. But he refrained.
By evening, he had spent several thousand dollars furnishing his new ho.
Back in the apartnt, he got to work.
Unpacking appliances. Assembling furniture. Wiring electronics.
He worked with enthusiasm because the process unexpectedly unlocked two new skills: [Carpentry] and [Electrician].
Combined with the [Computer Science] skill he triggered when buying the laptop, his skill list was growing rapidly.
Hunter knew the rule: More skills an more stats.
Every skill level-up granted a Free Attribute Point and expanded his Personal Inventory by 1 cubic ter.
So, even useless-looking skills were worth grinding.
Ti flew by as he worked alone.
Suddenly, a knock on the door startled him.
Hunter checked the ti.
9:00 PM.
"Crap."
"I got too absorbed."
Thanks to his new [Electrician] skill and so past-life knowledge, Hunter had decided to inspect the apartnt's wiring while assembling a bookcase. He lost track of ti.
In the US, noise complaints were serious business. Neighbors wouldn't hesitate to call the cops, and cops loved responding to noise complaints—it was easy quota work without the danger of gang shootouts.
Hunter dropped his tools. The knocking was getting louder and faster.
He grabbed a shirt to wipe the sweat off his face and hurried to the door.
He swung it open and was imdiately blasted by a verbal assault.
"Hey! Do you know what ti it is?"
"Stop making noise right now, or I'm calling the police!"
Standing outside was a woman.
A mature, ripe woman.
She had shoulder-length blonde hair, styled to be sexy and provocative.
But Hunter's eyes were imdiately drawn lower.
She was wearing a leopard-print top with a plunging neckline that struggled to contain two massive hemispheres. A tight pencil skirt accentuated her dangerous curves.
Is she thirty? Forty?
Western won's ages were a mystery. So looked forty at twenty. Others maintained a devastating, milfy charm well into their forties.
This woman was definitely the latter.
"Hello, ma'am."
Hunter smiled apologetically as he buttoned his shirt.
"I'm sorry we have to et under these circumstances."
"I'm Hunter. I just moved in today."
"I was assembling furniture by myself and lost track of ti."
"I sincerely apologize for the disturbance."
The blonde woman had been furious when the door opened.
But then she saw him.
Hunter had answered the door shirtless, his defined muscles glistening with sweat. As he hurriedly put on his shirt, she got a full view of his sculpted torso.
Her anger evaporated instantly.
She worked in a bar, dealing with n every night. But this?
This was premium beef.
Her gaze traveled up from his chest to his face.
And she froze.
What a handso young man.
Hunter was objectively good-looking. Even by Western standards, his features were striking.
Sothing possessed her. The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them.
"Um... do you need so help?"
Hunter paused.
Then, his smile widened into sothing dazzling.
"If it wouldn't be too much trouble... that would be amazing."
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