A few minutes later, the car rolled to a stop across the street from a real estate office.
The brokerage was well-known in Miami, with multiple branches across the city. This particular location, tucked between a nail salon and a vape shop, wasn't large — maybe twelve hundred square feet at most.
After locking his car, Ethan Cole crossed the street and pushed open the glass door.
A soft chime rang.
Inside, the office was quiet. Only two agents remained — both hunched over their phones behind separate desks.
One of them, the woman glanced up first.
She stood quickly when she saw him, smoothing down her skirt. But then her expression shifted, confused, as she looked toward her male colleague.
Normally, he would have jumped up to snatch a walk-in client before she could blink.
Today, though, he didn't move.
He was still staring at his phone with a greasy grin, clearly absorbed in something inappropriate.
Seeing her opportunity, the girl hurried toward Ethan.
She stopped in front of him, offering a slightly nervous but genuine smile.
"Hi, welcome. I'm Emily Parker with Atlantic Crest Realty. How can I help you today?"
Ethan studied her briefly before replying. "I'm looking to buy a few properties."
Buy.
Not rent.
Emily blinked, surprised — but she recovered quickly.
"Of course. Please, come this way."
She led him into a small glass-walled meeting room near the back.
Across the office, the male agent finally looked up — just in time to see Emily already guiding the client away. He hesitated, then shrugged and went back to his phone.
Ethan could tell immediately: she was new.
Her movements were polite but awkward. Too eager. Slightly flustered. She kept adjusting things that didn't need adjusting.
"Do you have a specific area in mind?" she asked, sitting down across from him. "And what price range are you looking at?"
There was a faint flush in her cheeks.
She'd been working here almost three months. Everyone had told her real estate in Miami was easy money — commissions, bonuses, luxury listings.
Reality had been less glamorous.
She'd closed rentals. A few small leases. Nothing major. Her base pay barely covered rent.
But if someone walked in looking to buy?
She would give it everything.
"Show me properties around one million," Ethan said casually.
Emily's fingers tightened slightly around the tablet. One million.
She nodded quickly and began searching.
After a few taps, she froze.
"Oh— I'm sorry. I didn't even offer you anything to drink. What's your last name, sir?"
"Cole."
"Mr. Cole — would you like coffee? Water? Juice?"
"Water's fine."
"Of course. One second."
She hurried out and returned moments later with a bottle of mineral water. She even twisted the cap open before handing it to him.
"Here you go."
"Thanks."
She looked up — and immediately looked away.
He was younger than she expected. Mid-twenties at most. Well-dressed. Calm. Confident.
She took a quiet breath and refocused on the tablet.
Meanwhile, Ethan activated the system's scanner.
A transparent blue interface flickered into existence in his vision.
[Name: Emily Parker][Age: 19][Height: 5'4"][Face Score: 90][Figure Score: 92][Intimacy: 0][Favorability: 50 (Stranger)]
Ethan frowned slightly.
Ninety?
Her dark hair was tied back in a low ponytail. Thick bangs partially covered her eyes. She wore oversized black-rimmed glasses and minimal makeup. She looked… ordinary.
At best, he would've rated her a seven.
"The system evaluates beauty based on the host's subconscious aesthetic preferences," a calm mechanical voice explained.
"I think your algorithm's broken," Ethan replied internally.
"The system's assessment is calculated through detailed proportional analysis. The host does not need to question it."
Then silence.
He studied her again.
Now that he was looking closer… her eyes were striking. Clear. Symmetrical. Her bone structure was delicate. It was just hidden under bad styling and zero effort.
Interesting.
Summer resumed her questions.
"Are you looking for something renovated? Or unfinished units?"
Her phrasing was clumsy, slightly out of order.
But Ethan didn't interrupt her. Everyone starts somewhere.
"I won't be living in them," he said. "Just something that rents easily. Good locations."
"Got it."
She filtered listings near commercial areas — Brickell outskirts, Little Havana redevelopment zones, near office corridors and retail clusters.
Within seconds, several options appeared between $900,000 and $1.05 million.
She turned the tablet toward him.
"These are strong rental properties. Close to business districts and transit. Modern layouts."
Ethan scanned the prices.
A few were just over one million.
His jaw tightened slightly.
The Beginner Critical Hit Cards had a strict ceiling: one million per transaction. Anything above that was invalid.
Annoying.
Seeing him frown, Emily immediately tensed.
"Is something wrong? I can pull different options."
He shook his head.
"The properties are fine."
They just couldn't exceed one million, but he also wanted the maximum possible profit so he needed them to be at exactly 1 million..