When Hunter woke up, it was already noon.
With his physical attributes enhanced, Hunter had noticed that his need for sleep had drastically diminished. Unless he was utterly exhausted, five or six hours of rest a night was now sufficient. He would wake up feeling completely refreshed, a stark contrast to his past life where even ten hours of sleep sometimes left him feeling groggy.
Having stolen two safes from Steve, Hunter was in high spirits despite his inability to open them just yet.
After a quick wash, he pulled a variety of fresh ingredients from his Personal Inventory. He prepared a feast for himself and enjoyed it leisurely.
Hunter had decided not to approach Stella Bridger for a few days.
The blonde beauty had inherited her father John Bridger's genius for safecracking, but she also carried the baggage of his past. John had spent over a decade in prison, missing most of Stella's childhood.
Although they had reconciled, Stella harbored a deep resentment for the criminal life. At the beginning of the The Italian Job plotline, her relationship with Charlie Croker was frosty at best. She despised thieves like Charlie and her father, and she hated their illicit activities even more.
Hunter, in a sense, was now exactly the kind of person she detested.
So, he planned to wait. He needed the heat to die down before he tried to charm her into teaching him top-tier lockpicking skills.
Hunter wasn't worried about convincing her.
His biggest difference from Charlie was a lack of "moral" constraints. Charlie had principles. Even after Steve murdered John—Stella's father and Charlie's mentor—Charlie's idea of revenge was merely stealing the gold back.
From his first heist to the present, Charlie and his team had never killed anyone during a job. That was Charlie's code.
Hunter had no such inhibitions.
He doubted Stella could resist the temptation of seeing Steve—the man who murdered her father—dead. And if her moral upbringing prevented her from pulling the trigger herself, Hunter wouldn't mind doing the dirty work for her.
Since killing those two American Bullies during his escape two nights ago, Hunter felt as if a shackle from his previous life had shattered. The dormant aggression in his blood, a primal instinct for conflict, was reawakening.
When the thought of killing Steve to win Stella's favor crossed his mind, he felt no hesitation. Instead, he immediately began calculating the feasibility.
To be honest, Hunter didn't dislike this change.
He had a conscience—not a lot, but enough.
Hunter devoured his sumptuous lunch with the speed of a whirlwind. As his stats increased, so did his appetite. He was eating significantly more than he had two months ago.
After washing the dishes, he began to ponder how to spend his afternoon.
Should he go to the boxing club to spar? Or perhaps the shooting range to further grind his Marksmanship skill? Maybe a relaxing fishing trip by the beach, followed by a run along the coast at sunset?
Just as he was weighing his options, the phone on his nightstand rang.
Hunter walked over leisurely and checked the screen.
It was an unknown number.
After a brief pause, he answered.
"Hello?"
The moment the call connected, a frantic, slightly unfamiliar female voice came through the line.
"Hunter! It's Mia."
"Are you at your apartment right now?"
"I need to see you!"
It was Mia. Mia Toretto. Hunter hadn't seen her in over a month.
Her voice was trembling, laced with panic. She was clearly in trouble.
Hunter's tone instantly shifted to one of calm reassurance. "Easy, Mia. Don't panic. Are you okay?"
"I'm at home. Where are you?"
"If you need me, I can come to you right now."
Hunter hadn't been in contact with Mia for a while, but he hadn't forgotten her. She was his first woman in this world. If he hadn't been so consumed by his financial crisis and the heist at Steve's villa, he might have already defied Dom's threats to see her.
On the other end of the line, Mia sounded like she was on the verge of tears.
"Something happened to Dom. I'm near your place."
"I'll be there in a minute!"
Dom. Dominic Toretto.
Hunter opened his mouth to ask for details, but Mia had already hung up.
Listening to the dial tone, Hunter pocketed his phone. He had previously emailed Mia his current address, so he wasn't worried about her finding him.
What intrigued him was the news about Dom.
Dom is in trouble?
Dom wasn't exactly a kingpin, but he was a legend in the California underground racing scene. He had connections everywhere. Even with the FBI watching him, as long as Dom kept his head down, the Bureau wouldn't waste resources on a cold surveillance target indefinitely.
Hunter quickly ran through the plot of The Fast and the Furious in his mind.
Suddenly, he frowned.
"Wait..."
"Did Dom and his crew... did they pull another job even with the FBI watching them?"
"Did they hijack another truck?"
Hunter had been so focused on the gold heist that he hadn't paid attention to the local California news.
Thinking about the kind of people Dom and his crew were—adrenaline junkies who lived a quarter-mile at a time—Hunter realized his guess was likely spot on.
He shook his head and sighed internally.
If you don't court death, you won't die.
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