The System gave Hunter the confidence to face the insane future of the Fast universe. The gun gave him the means to survive the present.
Knowing he had a concealed weapon ready to be drawn at a moment's notice flooded him with a sense of security. Slowly, his pulse returned to normal.
Growl.
Just as he was fantasizing about his bright future, his stomach staged a violent protest.
Hunger hit him like a truck. Hunter stood up, intent on finding something to fill the void.
Hunter's apartment wasn't big. Even with just a cursory glance earlier, Hunter had already memorized the layout. By the entrance, a small alcove served as the kitchen, dominated by a fridge with a rusty shell.
Hunter walked over and yanked the door open. His face fell instantly.
The fridge wasn't empty, but the contents were... disappointing.
Four 500g steaks. Three onions. One can of tomatoes. One can of chickpeas. An opened pack of processed cheese slices, and a kilogram of untouched white bread.
It was obvious that despite Hunter's Chinese heritage, generations of assimilation had completely Westernized his diet.
Hunter, however, wasn't built for a pure Western diet. In his past life, he lived alone and cooked for himself. After a decade of practice, he wasn't exactly a Michelin chef, but he knew how to make a decent meal that satisfied his Asian palate.
Given his concussion, going out to buy groceries wasn't an option. He stared at the ingredients for a moment, formulating a plan.
He grabbed two steaks, an onion, and the can of tomatoes.
After washing the ingredients, Hunter picked up a knife and started slicing the onion.
Schwing.
The moment the blade hit the cutting board, that melodious, mechanical voice rang out again.
[Ding! Cooking action detected. Generating Skill: Cooking.]
[Current Cooking Level: Lv 0. EXP to next level: 100.]
[Cooking EXP is calculated based on: Preparation Time + Technique + Deliciousness Rating.]
[More complex and delicious dishes yield higher EXP!]
Hunter's hand froze mid-chop. A wave of ecstasy washed over him.
He had suspected the Proficiency System could turn any knowledge into a skill, but triggering three skills in a row confirmed it.
The implications were staggering. If everything could become a skill...
"Driving, Lockpicking, Cooking..." Hunter muttered, his eyes wide. "If I keep learning, keep grinding..."
"I can farm attribute points. I can upgrade myself."
"I could become superhuman. Maybe even... omnipotent!"
Just thinking about it made his blood boil with excitement.
Growl.
His stomach roared again, dragging his imagination back to reality.
Hunter got back to work. He sliced the onions, washed the steaks, and cubed the beef.
He threw a knob of butter into a hot pan, followed by the onions, beef, and tomatoes.
Hunter's pantry was tragic—just salt and black pepper. With no soy sauce or spices, Hunter had to make do.
Forty minutes of simmering later, a pot of "Improvised Tomato Beef Stew" was ready. It wasn't authentic, but given the limitations, it smelled incredible.
The aroma wafting from the pot made his stomach rumble even louder. The "gluttony worm" inside him was awake and demanding tribute. He reached out to turn off the stove, ready to dig in.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sudden sound made him jump.
The apartment was tiny, so the knocking sounded like it was right next to his ear.
Hunter froze, his instincts shifting from hungry to alert.
Hunter lived in an old, rundown part of Los Angeles. It wasn't exactly the slums, but according to Hunter's memories, it wasn't safe either.
Hunter walked silently to the door, his muscles tensed.
"Who is it?" he called out, not opening the door yet.
In his mind, he was already reaching into his Personal Inventory. If the answer was suspicious, the M1911 would be in his hand in a split second.
The visitor, however, had no intention of hiding.
A familiar, youthful female voice drifted through the door.
"Hunter? It's Mia."
"I heard you got hurt. I came to check on you."