Because of the scorching heat, Dennis didn't have much of an appetite, so pretty much all the food he pulled out ended up in Mike's stomach.
"Dennis, do we really need to rush like this? If I remember right, the department gave you over a week off for this work trip, didn't they?" Mike said casually after polishing off a huge burger.
"The sooner I get you settled in, the sooner I can head back and spend a couple extra days with Aunt Kelly," Dennis replied while cleaning up the trash from their meal.
"Ew, that's so sappy..." Mike pretended to shiver with goosebumps, then chugged the rest of his beer and chucked the empty bottle as far as he could.
...
Amid Dennis's "complaints," Mike grabbed his travel bag and happily jogged over to the RV.
"That kid's personality is getting brighter by the day!" Dennis muttered, watching Mike's back. A smile crept across his usually stern face.
Four years ago, after Mike's parents died in an accident, Dennis became little Mike's legal guardian.
Because of everything the family had been through, young Mike had always been pretty introverted.
Dennis had been worried that after the whole "Jennifer" incident, Mike would withdraw even more.
But judging by how Mike was acting now, it looked like he'd finally put Jennifer's shadow behind him.
That realization gave Dennis this warm feeling—like his own kid was finally growing up.
After a moment of those classic "old dad" sentiments, Dennis picked up the trash bag and headed to the RV.
Before long, the beat-up old rig was creaking and groaning its way back onto the road.
Mike flopped down in the back seat again, pulled his cowboy hat over his face like he was napping—but really, his mind had slipped into the system.
Yeah, as a guy who'd been isekai'd into this world, how could Mike not have a system?
[Pickup System
Host: Mike Quinn
Intelligence: 128+ (Average: 90–110, Good: 110–120, Excellent: 120–140, Genius: 140+)
Physique: 107+ (Average adult male: 100)
Skills: Driving Lv3 (67/10000), Shooting Lv2 (233/1000), Cooking Lv2 (191/1000)...
(Skills are divided into five levels; more skills can be expanded.)
Traits: Demon Physique (1. Immortality. 2. Eternal Youth. 3. Rapid Healing.)
(Note: "Immortality" here doesn't mean indestructible—if the brain or heart takes critical damage, death is still possible.)
(Similar traits can stack and fuse.)]
After about a month of messing around with it, Mike had pretty much figured out how his system worked.
Basically, by affecting other people's emotions, he'd randomly pick up attribute points, skill proficiency, and all sorts of traits.
Simple. Brutal.
And from what Mike could tell so far, the "protagonists" of this world seemed way more likely to drop the good stuff.
Take [Demon Physique]—he'd accidentally picked that up when Jennifer died.
Thanks to the system's tweaks, Mike could fuel it just with normal food now, no need to go full cannibal like Jennifer had.
...
"Scrrreeech~"
Just as Mike was checking out his system, the sound of the RV scraping against something snapped him back to reality.
Luckily, it was just a minor bump—nothing that would stop them from driving. From the sound, the rig had probably grazed the curb.
Mike looked up and sure enough, in the rearview mirror he caught Dennis's tired eyes.
"Hey, Dennis! Why don't you take a break? Let me drive for a while," Mike said seriously.
Dennis snapped out of his daze when Mike called his name. His brain kicked back into gear, and he shot down the idea right away: "No way. You're not old enough for a driver's license yet. Letting you drive would be breaking the rules."
"Dennis, think about it," Mike pushed back, looking out for both of them. "You just had a drink—that's DUI. And driving all night when you're wiped out? That's fatigued driving... Want me to call the cops for you?"
Their eyes locked in the rearview mirror for a second, and eventually Dennis caved. He pulled the RV over and said, "Alright, fine. You're right... You drive. I'll ride shotgun and keep an eye out."
Mike grinned and slid behind the wheel. With his level-three driving skills, he handled that RV like a pro—smooth, steady, and quick.
Dennis slumped into the passenger seat, ready to give Mike a few pointers. But the kid was driving so solidly that within minutes, Dennis was curled up snoring away.
There aren't a ton of exits on the interstate, so a little over three hours later, Mike followed the signs and rolled into the small town of Medford.
The place wasn't big at all. In the glow of the setting sun, it had that classic, down-home small-town American vibe everywhere you looked.
Mike stopped to ask for directions a couple times and soon pulled the RV up in front of the house numbered 5502.
The standalone apartment had its doors shut tight.
But right across the way, the place marked 5501 was buzzing with life.
"Missy, go check if our 'guest' is here," said George—old man Cooper—lounging on the couch watching the game. He heard something outside and nodded toward his little daughter.
A tiny girl clutching her stuffed doll ran "thump-thump-thump" to the window, peeked out, and squealed, "Whoa, cool! There's an RV parked right in front of our house!"
"Is that little Mike?" A stylish older lady poked her head out from the kitchen, her face lighting up with excitement.
That was Connie—the grandma Mike was coming to stay with.
"Connie: Mary, hold off on whatever you're doing. Our little guest is waiting outside."
"George: Missy, go grab Georgie from his room~"
"George: Sheldon, when the guest gets here, no saying anything weird!"
"Sheldon: Got it. It's just some kid staying at Meemaw's house. Why's everybody so worked up?"
...
After a flurry of chaos, the whole Cooper family plus Meemaw Connie lined up neatly at the door.
Mike had just finished straightening his clothes and stepped down from the RV.
"Oh my~" Meemaw Connie hurried over. She did a double-take at how tall he was, then studied his face like she was trying to place him.
Finally, she broke into a big smile and said warmly, "You must be little Mike. Those eyes of yours—they're just like Elizabeth's. So striking."
Elizabeth was Mike's late grandma.
Mike had kinda figured this was coming, so seeing the actual Young Sheldon crew and Meemaw Connie didn't throw him off too much. He replied politely, "That's me—Mike Quinn. You're Connie Tucker?"
"Sure am. You can call me Grandma Connie or Meemaw..." She trailed off, remembering Mike had lost his family, and got a little emotional as she stepped in for a hug. "Poor sweet boy~"
Yeah, well... Mike was built like a linebacker and towered almost a full head over the barely-over-five-foot Meemaw Connie.
Plus, he had a whole farm in his name to inherit one day. So by pretty much any measure, "poor" wasn't exactly the word for him.
...
Back a ways, Missy was already starstruck by how handsome Mike was. She tugged on Mary's sleeve and asked excitedly, "Mommy, can I marry Mike?"
Mary was still in her feels from the moment, but her eyes went wide at that. "Absolutely not—you're still in elementary school."
Missy: "What if I wait till middle school? Can I marry him then?"
Mary shot her a stern look: "Nope, not in middle school either!"
Missy: "Well..."
Mary: "Not in high school, either!"
Missy huffed in frustration since Mom had read her mind and shut down every option. Then she shuffled a couple steps closer to Dad with her doll, just to quietly protest against her mom.