Late that night, the roar of an engine cut through the silence.
Hunter rolled into the apartment complex parking lot, bringing his battered motorcycle to a halt.
His driving skill had leveled up again.
From Level 2 to Level 3.
Despite the grind, the reward remained consistent: just one single Free Attribute Point and one cubic meter of inventory space.
Hunter wasn't complaining. He dumped the new point straight into Strength.
Because his base stats were still relatively low, every single point felt significant. It was like an instant, tangible upgrade to his body.
With this latest boost, Hunter estimated his physical strength wasn't far off from Vince's anymore.
Vince wasn't just some random thug. He had been riding with Dom for years, hijacking semi-trucks on the highways of California. You didn't become Dominic Toretto's right-hand man and enforcer without being able to throw a punch.
But now, Hunter had a problem. To get his Driving skill from Level 3 to Level 4 required a whopping 2,000 EXP.
That meant driving 2,000 kilometers (1,240 miles).
It sounded simple, but for Hunter, it was a logistical nightmare.
Why? Because he was broke.
Hunter had been living paycheck to paycheck. When Hunter took over, he scoured the apartment and found a grand total of twenty bucks in cash.
Over the past five days, grinding his driving skill meant buying gas. Lots of it. He also had to fix the more dangerous mechanical issues on the bike.
To cover costs, he'd been forced to use Hunter's credit card, maxing it out to the tune of two thousand dollars.
Swiping the card felt great. Paying it back was going to be a migraine.
In his past life, Hunter had fallen into the debt trap right out of college. He knew the stress of owing money all too well.
Making money was now his top priority.
Hunter trudged up to his apartment, flipped on the lights, and headed straight for the bathroom.
Between swimming, running, and riding around the city all day, he was drenched in sweat. He felt sticky and gross.
He took a quick shower in the cramped bathroom. Drying his hair with a towel, he walked toward the kitchen, wearing nothing but a fresh pair of boxers.
"Even with daily showers, my skin still feels itchy," he grumbled to himself. "No bathhouses, no scrubbing mitts... how have Westerners survived like this for thousands of years?"
As a Northern Chinese man in his past life, the love for a good, rough scrub-down was in his DNA. Going five days without exfoliating felt wrong.
"Maybe I should check out Chinatown tomorrow," he mused. "Find a proper sauna."
Growl.
The intense exercise regime meant his metabolism was burning hot. He was starving.
Hunter tossed the towel aside and opened the fridge.
He grabbed a pound of chicken breast, a cucumber, some peanuts, and dried red chilies.
Tonight's menu: Kung Pao Chicken.
It was a classic, and in his past life, it was his signature dish.
During his "sick leave" from the garage, he had stocked up on proper Asian seasonings—soy sauce, vinegar, the works.
He started the rice cooker and got to work on the chicken.
Just as the oil in the wok began to sizzle...
Knock. Knock.
Hunter froze. Deja vu.
It felt exactly like five days ago.
He turned off the stove, moved the wok to a cold burner, and walked to the door.
"Coming!"
He cracked the door open and peered out.
Standing in the hallway was a familiar figure.
"Hi, Hunter!"
It was Mia again.
Hunter smiled and swung the door wide open.
"Hey, Mia."
It wasn't until the cool hallway air hit his skin that he realized his mistake. He had just showered. He was wearing nothing but boxers.
Over the last five days, Hunter had gained 7 Free Attribute Points. Aside from the 2 points in Intelligence, the other 5 had been distributed evenly across his physical stats.
He wasn't a bodybuilder yet, but the change was undeniable.
His arms, thighs, chest, and abs now had clear, defined muscle definition, overlaying a frame that was lean and athletic.
Mia had come to check on him, to ask why he hadn't been back to the garage all week.
But the moment her eyes landed on Hunter, her brain short-circuited.
Asian skin tended to be smoother and finer than Caucasian skin. Hunter had that refined texture, combined with a physique that now rivaled the fittest guys her age.
Mia had grown up around men, but thanks to Vince's aggressive gatekeeping, she had almost no experience with guys her own age.
Suddenly, she was staring at a shirtless, handsome young man who was exactly her peer.
His muscles weren't bulky like Vince's or Dom's. They were lean, functional, and aesthetically pleasing.
Mia's gaze locked onto his torso and refused to move.
She already felt guilty about what happened to him. She already liked him because he was the only guy she'd really talked to in years.
Now, seeing him half-naked...
A flush crept up her neck and burned across her cheeks.
Her heart slammed against her ribs—a chaotic, fluttering rhythm she had never felt before.
Oh no, Mia thought, panic mixing with excitement.
Is this... is this what a crush feels like?