Chapter 70: A Request & A 600k Payday
January 11
After shooing Mia and Letty away, Dom showed no intention of chatting in the living room.
"Walk with me."
He stood up and motioned for Hunter to follow.
They headed outside immediately. Hunter was puzzled for a moment, then a realization hit him. His expression darkened slightly.
He remembered Mia mentioning that the police had searched the house after Dom's arrest.
Hunter quickly understood Dom's paranoia. If the FBI had tossed the place, there was a high probability they had planted bugs or cameras.
The thought that his wild night with Mia might have been broadcast to a room full of federal agents made Hunter's scalp tingle.
However, the worry was short-lived.
Hunter realized that even if the FBI bugged the place, they wouldn't put listening devices in Mia's bedroom, the bathroom, or the kitchen. Federal warrants had limits. They would target Dom's study, the living room, and his bedroom—the places where business was discussed.
Moreover, with his enhanced senses, Hunter was incredibly sensitive to being watched and could even detect the faint electronic hum of nearby devices.
He hadn't sensed anything peculiar inside. This meant that at the very least, most of the house was clean.
They walked in silence until they were a good distance from the Toretto house.
Only then did Dom speak.
"My house was tossed a couple of days ago."
"It's likely bugged. Audio, maybe video."
"Talking in there isn't safe."
Hunter nodded. "Dom, if you need something, just ask."
"For Mia's sake, I'll help however I can."
Hunter guessed Dom was planning his exit strategy. Or, if not leaving immediately, he needed to clean up loose ends that could implicate him. Since Dom and his crew were currently under heavy surveillance, bringing in an outsider like Hunter was the only logical move.
Dom heard Hunter's pledge and finally cracked a smile on his usually stoic poker face.
"Mia has good taste."
Dom stopped and turned to face the younger man.
"You've figured it out by now, haven't you?"
It was phrased as a question, but his tone was certain.
Hunter was prepared for this. Just like yesterday with Mia, he gave the same answer.
"The California Highway Hijackers... that's you and your boys, isn't it, Dom?"
Seeing Dom didn't deny it, Hunter continued with a faint smile.
"Back when I worked at the garage, I read the reports about the hijackers. And I've worked on your cars."
"It could have been a coincidence."
"But I noticed the modifications. Your Civics are practically identical to the ones used in the heists. The only difference is the paint job and the underglow."
"So when the FBI started sniffing around and asking me questions about you..."
"I knew my guess was right."
"Over the last few years, a crew has hit dozens of trucks on California highways, stealing over a hundred million in consumer electronics. That crew is you."
A look of genuine surprise finally broke through Dom's stoicism.
Dom wasn't as reckless as he looked. He had led his crew on a multi-year crime spree, stealing a fortune in high-end electronics, and had only recently hit the FBI's radar. That spoke to his operational security.
Yet Hunter—this Asian kid that everyone, including Dom, had previously overlooked—had pieced it all together from scraps of information.
Combined with the fact that Hunter had warned them through Mia, and then bailed them out when they got pinched...
Dom was increasingly convinced that Hunter was a rare talent.
Certainly sharper than the muscle-heads in his own crew who were good for driving and lifting but not much else.
He might actually make a decent brother-in-law,Dom thought.
With that thought, the look in Dom's eyes softened considerably.
"So that's why you warned us through Mia."
"Yeah." Hunter nodded but didn't elaborate.
He could tell Dom had an ask. He waited for the other shoe to drop.
Dom didn't make him wait long.
They walked until they were a full block away. Seeing the street was empty, Dom stopped again.
He turned to Hunter, weighing his words carefully before finally asking, "Hunter, can I trust you?"
Hunter met the big man's gaze, his expression turning serious.
"Of course."
"As long as Mia is involved, I'll do whatever it takes to help."
Hunter deliberately emphasized Mia's name.
Dom wasn't stupid; he understood the implied condition. I'm doing this for her, not you.
Having already accepted Hunter as potential family, Dom simply smiled and patted Hunter's shoulder.
Then, his face turned serious again.
"Then I have a favor to ask."
"Letty, me, the whole crew... the FBI is watching our every move."
"I have a stash. It's from the last job. We didn't have time to fence it before the heat came down."
"I need you to move it out of town."
"I've already lined up a buyer. The goods are sitting in a container down at the docks."
"Find a truck. Haul the container out of the city."
"Once you get to the drop point, call the number I give you. The buyer will handle the rest."
"You're clean. The FBI isn't watching you like they're watching us. You're safer than any of us right now."
"Will you help me with this?"
Dom paused, locking eyes with Hunter.
"I won't ask you to take the risk for nothing."
"The shipment is worth about four million dollars. Once it's delivered..."
"You get a fifteen percent cut. That's six hundred thousand dollars."
Hunter, who had been hesitant about getting involved in federal crimes, heard the number.
Six hundred thousand.
His hesitation vanished instantly.
"Done. I'm in."
Chapter 71: Charlie's Unease
January 11
Nobody hates money, and Hunter Sun was no exception.
Sure, he had recently snatched two safes from Steve that likely contained nearly a ton of gold—worth at least twenty or thirty million dollars. That was enough to live like a king for decades.
But there was a catch: his [Lockpicking] skill wasn't high enough to crack them yet. And Hunter didn't want to brute-force them open, risking damage to the contents or leaving a mess.
So, for now, he was cash-poor and needed to find other revenue streams.
He hadn't touched Mia's bank card because Mia was his woman. Scamming his own girlfriend wasn't something Hunter could bring himself to do.
But Dom? He had no such qualms.
The cargo Dom was holding had been hijacked from Silicon Valley tech giants. It was ill-gotten gains through and through.
If Hunter didn't step in, Dom and his crew wouldn't be able to move it. The FBI would eventually seize it, or it would sit rotting in a container.
Now, Dom was asking him to transport it.
With his Personal Inventory, moving a shipping container was child's play.
Even if his inventory was currently cluttered with supplies, Hunter could simply spend the next few days grinding his skills. Leveling up would increase his stats, which in turn would expand his inventory capacity.
It was a zero-risk, high-reward job. Fast cash.
Hunter wished he could get more jobs like this. Six hundred thousand dollars for a simple delivery run? That would cover his expenses for quite a while.
Seeing Hunter agree, Dom's smile widened.
He didn't mind paying the Asian kid a hefty fee.
Being targeted by the FBI had awakened Dom to the real danger. He was already planning to leave Los Angeles temporarily. In fact, he was considering leaving the US altogether.
In the past, Dom had burned through most of his heist money on modifying cars and living fast. Now that trouble had come knocking, he realized his liquidity was dangerously low.
That was why he was willing to take the risk and ask Hunter to move the "hot" inventory he had been sitting on.
As Dom had said, he knew he was the FBI's primary target. Even though Hunter might attract some attention for posting bail, the heat on him would be negligible compared to the scrutiny on Dom.
After the events of the last few days, Dom no longer doubted Hunter's intelligence or capability.
He trusted Hunter's sharp wits.
Even if Hunter couldn't deliver the goods safely, Dom believed the kid was smart enough to escape if caught.
At worst, the shipment would be lost. Dom wouldn't be implicated. It was a calculated risk he was willing to take.
Having reached a preliminary agreement, Dom didn't immediately give Hunter the location of the container. He needed time to prepare—to contact the buyer and finalize the logistics.
Hunter wasn't in a rush either.
Although his inventory was technically large enough to hold a standard container, he didn't want to dump all his supplies to make room. He needed a few days to grind XP and expand his storage space.
Both men were satisfied with the deal. They walked back toward the house, chatting and laughing like old friends.
Hunter had no idea that at that very moment, in another corner of Los Angeles, chaos was unfolding.
Because of his intervention, Steve had lost the majority of his fortune. The traitor, facing imminent bankruptcy, had gone mad.
Misled by the clues Hunter had left (or lack thereof), Steve had erroneously concluded that Charlie Croker was the mastermind behind the theft of his safes.
Steve had activated every contact he had to hunt down Charlie's team.
And the first person Steve found was the locally famous, beautiful safecracker—Stella Bridger.
The butterfly wings Hunter flapped were causing a hurricane.
Los Angeles, an outdoor basketball court.
Handsome Rob, the team's playboy wheelman, watched Charlie Croker pace anxiously by the bench, constantly checking his phone.
Rob tossed the basketball toward the hoop without looking.
Swish!
The ball sailed through the net perfectly.
But Rob didn't even bother to gloat.
"Hey."
He grabbed a bottle of water and walked over to Charlie, handing it to him.
"Thanks."
Charlie took the water but didn't drink. He just stared at the screen.
Rob leaned over, glancing at the phone. "Charlie, you're not seriously thinking about chasing Old John's daughter, are you?"
"I admit, Stella is a stunner. She's got charm."
"But don't you think she's a little... cold?"
"And let's be real. We are thieves. Criminals."
"She works for the cops. She opens safes for banks and jewelry stores legally."
"She isn't John. She sits up in her ivory tower looking down on people like us."
For a smooth talker like Rob to be this dismissive, Charlie knew exactly what the issue was.
Stella was the daughter of his mentor, the master safecracker John Bridger.
Charlie had invited Stella to join their heist to steal back the gold from Steve partly to repay John—to give Stella the share that should have been her father's.
But while Charlie told everyone he needed her skills, he knew the real reason.
He had been in love with the icy blonde beauty since the first time he met her years ago.
Before the Venice heist, when John was ready to retire, Charlie had convinced him to do one last job. Charlie had wanted to use that score to prove himself—to impress Stella and show her he was worthy.
Unfortunately, it all went wrong.
He never expected Steve to betray them. Not only did Steve steal the gold, but he also murdered John Bridger.
Instead of impressing Stella, Charlie's invitation had led to her father's death.
That guilt had eaten at him for over a year.
Charlie had been hunting Steve relentlessly, but he hadn't dared to contact Stella until he had found the man who killed her father.
Chapter 72: Stella Missing
January 11
Handsome Rob's teasing made the distracted Charlie freeze for a moment.
He hadn't realized that his old friend had seen through his feelings for Stella so easily.
When Charlie had finally tracked down Steve's hideout a year and a half after the Venice betrayal, the first thing he did was reach out to Stella.
A huge reason for this was his desperate need to salvage his image in her eyes.
More than a year ago, it was Charlie's invitation that had lured her father, John Bridger, out of retirement for one last job—a job that ended with him dying at Steve's hand.
Charlie knew that if he ever wanted Stella's forgiveness, he had to be the one to help her get revenge.
He wasn't a killer, and he knew Stella certainly couldn't pull a trigger.
So, he had come up with the perfect plan: bring Stella into the fold and steal the gold back from Steve together.
For a man like Steve—who had betrayed his friends and murdered a mentor for gold—losing that gold would be a fate worse than death. To Charlie, stripping Steve of his prize was the ultimate punishment.
But today, Charlie felt off.
Since waking up this morning, he had been plagued by a persistent sense of dread.
Combined with the fact that he hadn't been able to reach Stella all day, Charlie's anxiety was skyrocketing.
They had a scheduled meeting today to discuss the reconnaissance mission—the plan to infiltrate Steve's villa disguised as cable technicians to map the layout and security. If possible, they even wanted to pinpoint the location of the safe.
Before approaching her, Charlie had researched Stella extensively. He knew she wasn't the type to flake on an appointment. If she said she would be there, she would be there.
But she wasn't here. And she had been silent all day.
At first, Charlie assumed she was busy with a sudden lockpicking job from the police. Or perhaps she was still holding onto her grudge against him for her father's death and simply didn't want to call.
So, he had waited. He held back from calling her, hoping that once the heist was successful and the gold was recovered, the ice between them would thaw, and he could properly pursue her.
But now night had fallen, and there was still no call. No text. Not even an email to cancel.
Charlie felt a wave of discouragement, but it was quickly swallowed by a rising tide of panic.
"Something's happened to Stella..."
The more he thought about it, the more panicked he became.
Ignoring Rob's banter, Charlie stared at his phone. After a moment of hesitation, he dialed the number for Stella's company.
Rob raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.
As a playboy, he knew exactly what was going through the mind of a nearly forty-year-old man pinning for a beautiful, younger woman.
Rob didn't think Charlie had a chance with the icy Stella. But watching the drama unfold was human nature. And hey, maybe miracles happened.
Rob didn't mind watching a good show, especially a romantic tragedy involving an old friend and the daughter of a fallen mentor.
Beep... Beep...
The line connected, but it went straight to a generic recording.
"Hello, you have reached Bridger Safe & Vault. If you have a service request, please contact us during business hours. If you would like to schedule an appointment, please leave your contact information and we will get back to you as soon as possible."
Rob was standing close enough to hear the automated voice.
He smirked. "Hey, are you a virgin who's never talked to a woman before?"
"Look at the time. It's after hours."
"Why don't you just call her cell?"
Charlie's unease deepened. He ignored Rob again, took a deep breath, and dialed Stella's personal cell phone number.
What Charlie didn't know was that at that very moment, inside Steve's villa...
Stella Bridger was sitting at a dining table with Steve.
But while Steve was calmly enjoying a steak dinner with a smile on his face, Stella sat opposite him, her hands bound behind her back, her body and legs tied securely to the heavy wooden chair.
A napkin was stuffed into her mouth as a gag. Her normally vibrant red lips were pale and cracked from dehydration.
Since being abducted at gunpoint outside her apartment that morning, Stella had been dragged here.
When she arrived at the familiar gates of Steve's villa and saw Steve himself waiting to "welcome" her with a team of armed guards, she knew instantly that Charlie's plan had been blown.
Sure enough, for the entire day, Steve had been trying to pry her mouth open. He wanted to know how Charlie and his team had infiltrated his villa the previous night.
He demanded to know how they had managed to steal two massive safes while only exposing one person.
Faced with Steve's interrogation, Stella was bewildered.
She had spent most of her time with Charlie recently. She knew for a fact that while they were planning to steal the gold, they were still in the preparation phase. They hadn't even started the recon mission yet!
But Steve was acting like the heist had already happened.
He was accusing Charlie of stealing the gold right under his nose.
Stella's mind was reeling. She had no idea what Steve was talking about. The only explanation she could think of was that Steve had either gone insane, or someone else had beaten Charlie to the punch.
Having finished his dinner, Steve wiped his mouth with a napkin as if he had just remembered his guest.
He walked over to Stella. Ignoring the furious glare that looked ready to incinerate him, he reached out and yanked the gag from her mouth.
"Miss Bridger."
"I hope a few hours of quiet reflection have jogged your memory."
"What do you have to tell me?"
Despite having not had a drop of water all day, Stella didn't hesitate. Facing her father's killer, she spat at him.
"Pah! You shameless coward."
"My father treated you like his best student. Like a friend."
"And you betrayed him."
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
"You already killed John. Why don't you just kill me too?"
Chapter 73: Charlie Calls, Steve Takes the Bait
January 11
Steve wiped the spittle from his face, his expression surprisingly calm as he looked at the bound Stella.
There was no anger in his eyes—only a faint, mocking smile.
"How could I bear to kill you?"
Steve reached out, his fingers gently tracing the curve of Stella's exquisite cheek.
Stella jerked her head away in disgust, trying to escape his touch.
Unfortunately, as a prisoner tied to a chair, her resistance was futile. All she could do was glare at him while his fingers lingered on her skin.
Luckily, Steve wasn't a lecher.
Or rather, in Steve's hierarchy of needs, gold ranked far above women.
"Beautiful," he murmured.
"No wonder Charlie has been pining for you all these years."
After teasing her for a moment longer, Steve withdrew his hand. He picked up a napkin and meticulously wiped the trace of foundation from his fingers.
Steve was no longer panicking.
He knew Charlie Croker's weakness. Before his betrayal, Steve had been part of Charlie's crew for years. He had worked alongside Charlie and Old John.
Although he had never met Stella back then, he had heard enough. He knew Charlie was infatuated with John's daughter.
Capturing Stella had been the perfect move. It had stabilized Steve's mood, which had been spiraling ever since the loss of his two safes.
Steve was still furious at Charlie for stealing his fortune, of course. But now he had leverage.
With Stella in his hands, Steve was confident. Knowing Charlie, the man would come. He would try to save her.
And when he did, Steve would get his safes back.
Not only that, he would kill two birds with one stone. He would eliminate Charlie and the rest of the team once and for all.
With them dead, Steve wouldn't have to hide anymore. He could finally enjoy his wealth in peace.
Stella glared daggers at him. Her mind was a whirlpool of fear, anger, and confusion.
She didn't know how Steve had found her. She was certain she had never met him before her father's death or Charlie's recent approach.
She only recognized him because Charlie had shown her his photo—the face of the traitor who murdered her father.
It had been over a year since that tragedy. When Charlie found her and asked for her help to steal the gold back, Stella had agreed.
Deep down, she wanted to kill Steve herself.
Her mother had died young. Her father, John, had spent years in prison, missing most of her childhood. But despite the distance, their bond was profound.
Because of John's criminal life, Stella had been raised in foster care and by relatives. Growing up, she understood the damage theft caused. She had learned John's skills—mastering every lock and safe imaginable—but she had chosen a different path. She opened locks for the police and banks, standing on the side of the law.
Her moral compass and upbringing prevented her from becoming a killer, even for revenge. That was why she had agreed to Charlie's plan: steal the gold, break Steve's spirit.
She never expected the plan to fail before it even started.
Dammit. Where did we go wrong?
Stella masked her anxiety with rage.
She didn't know if Steve's taunts about Charlie's crush were true, nor did she care right now.
Steve walked back to his seat and picked up a walkie-talkie from the table.
"Report. Any suspicious activity on the perimeter?"
A voice crackled back instantly.
"Boss, the front gate is clear. No movement."
"Cliffside cameras are clear too."
Steve frowned slightly, glancing at Stella.
"Copy that. Stay alert."
He switched off the radio and turned back to Stella with a sneer.
"Miss Bridger, it seems your charm isn't as potent as I thought."
"It's been hours, and Charlie hasn't even realized you're missing."
Stella's expression faltered. She opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a sudden sound.
Ring... Ring...
Her cell phone, which Steve had placed on the dining table earlier, began to ring.
Both of them stared at it.
Steve walked over quickly. Seeing the caller ID, his smile widened into a grin.
He waved the phone at Stella mockingly. "Sorry, I take it back."
"Miss Bridger, your admirer has finally noticed your absence."
"He's calling."
Without bothering to leave the room, Steve answered the call right in front of her.
"Hey, Stella. Where are you?"
Charlie's voice came through loud and frantic.
Steve recognized it instantly. He had worked with Charlie for years; he knew that voice anywhere.
His grin became predatory. "Hello, Charlie."
"Surprised to hear my voice?"
On the other end of the line, Charlie's voice cut off abruptly.
Heavy breathing replaced the words.
After a long pause, Charlie hissed through gritted teeth.
"Steve. Is that you?!"
"Heh."
Steve chuckled, basking in the moment. "That's right. It's me."
"Didn't see that coming, did you, Charlie?"
"You managed to steal my gold the other night. Congratulations."
"But I've found your weak spot."
"Is being alive so terrible that you had to come back?"
"I let you live. I spared you."
"All that happened was an old man who loved to lecture people died. Was that worth chasing me for a year? Worth stealing from me again?"
"You succeeded. I'll give you that."
"I still haven't figured out how you bypassed my security system and moved that much weight so quickly."
"But while I lost a battle, Charlie... you haven't won the war."
"The woman you've been pining for—Old John's daughter—is right here with me."
"I'm giving you twenty-four hours."
"Wait for my call tomorrow. Bring back what you stole, and I'll trade you for her."
"If not... you can come collect her corpse."
Steve didn't give Charlie a chance to respond.
He hung up and immediately powered off the phone.
Turning back to Stella, his face was twisted in triumphant glee.
"You said you didn't know anything?"
"It doesn't matter now."
"Tomorrow..."
"Everything you stole will be returned to me."
"Don't worry. For the sake of the gold, I won't torture you tonight."
"But after tomorrow? No promises."
Steve threw his head back and laughed maniacally
Chapter 74: The Puzzle & The Sleepless Night
January 11
Beep... Beep... Beep...
Listening to the busy signal, Charlie's expression turned grim.
He desperately hit the redial button!
But the automated voice message played almost immediately, confirming his worst fear: the phone had been switched off.
Handsome Rob, standing right next to him, sensed the shift in the atmosphere.
"Charlie," he asked urgently. "Did Steve take Stella?"
Rob might be a playboy, but he was also sharp and incredibly skilled. As one of the best wheelmen in California, he could handle anything with an engine—cars, motorcycles, speedboats, helicopters. He was a master of control, whether behind the wheel or dealing with women.
So, even though Charlie had only mentioned Steve's name once during the call, Rob had already connected the dots.
"Charlie?"
Charlie's hand, gripping the phone, was trembling slightly.
This was the first time in all their years together that they had suffered such a catastrophic setback before an operation even began.
No, "setback" was too mild. This was a disaster.
They had been investigating Steve for a while, steadily advancing their plan.
But Charlie never imagined that right before their initial recon mission, Stella would be snatched.
"How did Steve know Stella was John's daughter?" Charlie muttered, his mind racing.
"He shouldn't have ever met her."
"And how did he know we were coming for his gold?"
"Wait... I remember Steve just said we stole his gold the night before last?"
"Does that mean... someone else targeted Steve's stash before we did?"
"Someone beat us to the punch?"
Countless thoughts swirled in Charlie's mind, creating a chaotic storm of confusion.
He was spiraling.
Rob waited for a moment, but when Charlie didn't answer, he frowned and reached out, shaking Charlie's shoulder firmly.
"Hey!"
"Snap out of it! Are you okay?"
The physical jolt brought Charlie back from his panic.
He looked at Rob, seeing the concern in his friend's eyes, and forced a smile that looked more like a grimace.
"I'm okay, Rob."
"But our plan... it's blown wide open."
"Steve has Stella. He thinks we stole his gold. He wants us to bring it back in exchange for her life."
Rob froze. "Stolen gold?"
Charlie nodded. "From what Steve said, his villa was hit two nights ago."
"I can't verify it yet, but my gut tells me it's true."
"Why?" Rob asked, frowning.
"I told you before," Charlie explained. "I found Steve in LA because of a specific lead."
Rob nodded. Charlie was the brains and the intel gatherer of their international thief ring. He was the one who scouted, vetted, and assembled the team. If Charlie said he had a lead, Rob trusted him implicitly.
Charlie sighed. "I tracked him down because I heard whispers in the underworld. Someone in LA was moving gold bars stamped with the 'Dancer of Bali' mark."
"According to my intel, Steve has been offloading small quantities since he got back to the States."
"I don't know exactly how much he's sold, but conservative estimates put it in the millions."
"He's been selling to black market fences all over the city."
"So I suspect that besides us, someone else caught his scent."
Charlie, of course, had no idea that a transmigrator with foreknowledge and a magical inventory system had beaten him to the punch.
He naturally assumed that Steve had been sloppy while fencing the gold, attracting the attention of another criminal crew.
Rob listened carefully and accepted the logic.
He rubbed his head in frustration. "So what do we do now?"
"Where the hell are we supposed to find this missing gold to trade for Stella?"
Charlie fell silent.
He needed a moment to process. How to save Stella? How to find the gold? Or how to fake it?
Rob didn't interrupt him.
After a long minute of heavy silence, Charlie looked up. His eyes were focused again.
"Do you still have the energy to drive?"
Rob grinned. The Charlie he knew—the leader with a plan—was back.
"Relax. Unless you're asking me to handle ten women tonight, I'm good to go."
Charlie smiled, though it was strained. He patted Rob on the shoulder.
"We split up. You contact the others."
"And while you're at it... prep a ton of 'gold.' Lead bars, painted, weighted... whatever makes it look real enough to pass a visual inspection."
"I'm going to find Lyle. I need him to pull every scrap of surveillance footage from around Steve's villa for the last 48 hours."
"We need to find the real thief."
Rob nodded, serious now.
"Consider it done."
Without bothering to change out of his basketball gear, Rob turned and jogged toward the parking lot.
Watching him leave, the smile dropped from Charlie's face instantly.
He sighed deeply, looking up at the smoggy night sky where only a few stars were visible.
"Who could it be?"
After a moment of contemplation, Charlie ignored the basketball that had rolled away into the shadows. Still in his jersey, he headed for his car.
Steve hadn't given them much time. And knowing that man was a homicidal maniac, Charlie feared for Stella's safety every second she was in his grasp.
He had to figure this out. Fast.
Tonight was destined to be a sleepless night for Charlie Croker and his team.
Chapter 75: Heading to Bridger Safe & Vault
January 11
It had been a comfortable night.
In the morning, the sound of birds chirping outside the window gently roused Hunter from his sleep. He slowly opened his eyes.
"Hnng..."
Feeling the numbness in his arm, Hunter glanced at Mia, who was still sound asleep beside him.
He gently tapped her cheek, then carefully extracted his arm, which had been serving as her pillow all night.
"Much better."
Hunter got out of bed and walked to the window. Breathing in the fresh sea breeze, he felt instantly invigorated.
Last night, with Dom's tacit approval and Mia's insistence, Hunter hadn't left the Toretto house. He had stayed over.
For a young man and woman in the prime of their youth, the result was predictable. It was another night of passion and intimacy.
Despite their activities stretching into the early hours of the morning, Hunter woke up just past five feeling zero fatigue.
On the contrary, he felt brimming with boundless energy.
Since he had sweated quite a bit last night, his skin felt sticky and uncomfortable. Hunter headed straight for a cold shower.
After washing up, he pulled a clean pair of boxers from his Inventory. Toweling off his hair, he walked out of the bathroom with the towel draped over his shoulders.
Unexpectedly, as soon as he stepped into the living room, a voice greeted him.
"Hey. You're up early."
Hunter looked toward the sound and saw Letty lounging on the sofa.
Seeing him, Letty grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the coffee table. She lit one, took a drag, and let her eyes roam unabashedly over Hunter's defined muscles.
"I underestimated you."
"Didn't realize you were the 'slim in clothes, ripped out of them' type."
It was just past five in June, and the Los Angeles morning was already bright.
Even without the lights on, Letty could clearly see Hunter's physique. Every muscle was distinct, carved like a statue in a Greek temple—an exquisite piece of art.
As Dom's girlfriend, Letty was no stranger to muscles. Dom was a fitness fanatic, built like a tank. She usually found his bulk incredibly attractive.
But today, seeing Hunter's leaner, more aesthetic build, Letty suddenly felt like her boyfriend might be a bit... excessive. Compared to Hunter's perfect proportions, Dom's massive bulk suddenly seemed less harmonious.
"Nice body!"
Letty gave him a thumbs up, making no attempt to hide her appreciation. She had enjoyed the view thoroughly.
"Thanks for the compliment."
Hunter smiled and nodded. He had gotten used to the straightforward nature of Western women over the past two months.
He pulled the towel tighter, leaving only his eight-pack abs exposed.
"Why are you up so early, Letty?" he asked curiously.
Letty reluctantly tore her eyes away from his abs and took another drag of her cigarette.
"You guys were too loud last night. Couldn't sleep," she replied grumpily.
Dom's house, like most American homes, was wood-frame construction. Without special soundproofing, the acoustic privacy was... lacking.
Clearly, Dom had never considered this issue before.
The result was an incredibly awkward night for everyone else.
To make matters worse, Letty was on her period. To avoid tempting Dom (and herself), she had chosen to sleep on the sofa in the living room.
Then Hunter's shower had woken her up again.
She was dealing with some serious morning grumpiness. If she hadn't just gotten an eyeful of Hunter's abs, the fiery Letty might have already exploded.
The topic was a bit awkward, so after a few casual remarks, Hunter excused himself to change clothes.
When he returned to the living room, Letty had tidied up the makeshift bed.
By the time Dom and Mia woke up, it was past eight.
A sumptuous breakfast, prepared by Hunter, was waiting for them.
Having been in this world for two months, Hunter knew American tastes well. Aside from his own portion, he had prepared modified, Western-friendly Chinese dishes for the trio.
It was a hit.
"Didn't know you could cook like this," Letty mumbled around a mouthful of Sweet and Sour Pork wrapped in a tortilla—a weird fusion taco she had improvised. The sweet and sour flavor clearly suited her palate.
Dom didn't say much, but his empty plate spoke volumes. The Black Pepper Beef Tenderloin had vanished in record time.
Mia finished her Tomato Beef Stew, a dish she had fallen in love with recently. Paired with mashed potatoes, she ate happily.
After breakfast, Mia and Letty cleared the table.
Hunter sat with Dom, who clearly hadn't slept well either. After a moment of silence, Hunter spoke up.
"Dom, I have some things to take care of."
"I'll come back to see you guys once I'm done."
They couldn't be sure if the house was bugged, so the subtext was clear: I need to go prep. Once I'm ready, I'll come back to handle your shipment.
Dom looked rough and tumble, but he was sharp as a tack. His bald head gleamed in the morning light as he nodded.
"From now on," Dom said quietly, "call me Dom."
Wait, that sounded weird in Chinese. "Call me Dom" was redundant. What he meant was to drop the honorific "Boss" or "Big Brother" if Hunter was using one, or simply to use the nickname implying closeness.
(Wait, the raw text says "Call me Dom/Dominic" implying previously Hunter used "Toretto" or "Boss Tang". I will localize this as: "Call me Dom.")
Hunter wasn't surprised. He knew Dom only let family and close friends use that name.
"Got it, Dom."
Hunter nodded, then got up to say goodbye to Mia and Letty before leaving the house.
Unsure if the FBI was tailing him yet, Hunter walked for a while after leaving the Toretto house.
He eventually hailed a taxi.
He didn't go back to his apartment. Instead, he headed straight for Bridger Safe & Vault.
It had been three days since he stole Steve's safes.
For the past two days, his focus had been entirely on saving Dom. Consequently, he had neglected monitoring Steve and Charlie.
He didn't really care about Charlie, but he cared a lot about Stella, the beautiful safecracker.
Hunter planned to visit her company and inquire about job openings.
With his [Lockpicking Lv 2], he could easily open most common locks with a card or a wire. For slightly more complex locks, he could manage with proper tools and time.
He figured he could apply for a job at her firm.
If he could join legitimately, he could get close to her and learn her techniques directly.
And if he was rejected?
Well, Hunter had a Plan B to persuade Stella to teach him.
He figured the head of her father's killer, Steve, would be a sufficient tuition fee.
Chapter 76: Gearing Up
January 11
"I'm sorry, sir."
"Our boss has matters to attend to and is not in the office."
"Also, we are not hiring."
Inside the lobby of Bridger Safe & Vault, Hunter hadn't expected to be shut down so quickly.
He had barely stated his intention before the receptionist cut him off with a firm refusal.
He didn't even get a glimpse of Stella Bridger.
"Alright."
Hunter saw the receptionist's hand hovering over the phone, clearly ready to dial 911 at a moment's notice.
Keeping a polite smile on his face, he turned and left.
As a country with deeply entrenched racial issues, the United States often operated on an unspoken hierarchy. Whether a "Black Lives Matter" movement would arise in this parallel world was unknown to Hunter.
But one thing was certain: in this America, the social pecking order placed whites at the top, followed by Latinos and Blacks. Asians, unfortunately, were often at the bottom of the discrimination chain.
Hunter had been in this world for almost two months. Even though he spent most of his time in Chinatown, he had encountered his fair share of subtle—and sometimes overt—discrimination.
However, Hunter wasn't like the "bananas"—yellow on the outside, white on the inside—who desperately tried to act American. He knew who he was.
So when he faced this kind of treatment, he simply viewed it with the detached calm of a Chinese national encountering rudeness abroad.
It also meant that when the time came to screw over these Americans, Hunter felt absolutely zero guilt.
Leaving Bridger Safe & Vault, Hunter got back into his car and drove toward Lyle's apartment.
Hunter knew Steve wasn't the type to give up easily.
Although Hunter hadn't opened the safes yet and couldn't confirm the gold was inside, the safes themselves were proof enough of value.
They were Worthington 1000s, the flagship model from the top US security firm. Each safe cost over three hundred thousand dollars.
That was why Hunter hadn't blasted them open. The safes alone were a fortune.
Moreover, Steve wouldn't put worthless junk inside a three-hundred-thousand-dollar vault. The missing ton of gold had to be in there.
Steve had lost tens of millions of dollars. It would be weirder if he wasn't going crazy.
While at Bridger Safe & Vault, Hunter had used a bit of probing dialogue.
He was now certain that the receptionist couldn't contact Stella. Furthermore, Stella hadn't shown up to work for over a day.
Hunter had tailed Stella before. He knew her habits.
The beautiful safecracker was a workaholic. Even when she was scouting Steve's villa with Charlie's team, she insisted on stopping by her office daily.
For her to vanish for a full day without notice meant something was wrong.
"Did Steve kidnap her?"
In the original plot of The Italian Job, Stella posed as a cable technician to infiltrate Steve's villa. Because of her beauty and her knack for finding the safe, Steve became suspicious. He invited her out on a date and eventually tricked her into revealing her identity.
In the original story, Steve didn't know Stella initially. But he definitely knew that John Bridger—the man he killed—had a daughter.
Hunter had previously asked Dom to look into the local locksmith scene, and Dom had easily found Bridger Safe & Vault.
If Dom could find her, Steve certainly could too.
"Looks like stealing the gold triggered a butterfly effect."
Stella being kidnapped this early was a massive deviation from the plot.
Hunter quickly realized this was the consequence of his interference.
Stella couldn't die yet. Not before Hunter learned her skills.
It wasn't that he was desperate to date her. It was her [Lockpicking] ability.
She could open a Worthington 1000—a top-tier, $300,000 safe—in minutes without damaging it. That skill was priceless to Hunter right now.
He needed to confirm her status.
If Steve really had kidnapped her, Hunter would have to find a way to get her out. Or at least ensure Charlie rescued her alive.
Hunter drove quickly to Lyle's apartment. He had visited the hacker frequently to learn computer skills, so he knew the address well.
He parked and rang the doorbell. No answer.
He rang it again. Still nothing.
Hunter had a hunch. He pulled out his phone and called Lyle.
The phone rang for a while, then disconnected.
Moments later, an email popped up in Hunter's inbox.
It was from Lyle.
"Busy right now. Will contact you later."
"Just as I thought."
Hunter's suspicion was all but confirmed. Lyle wasn't just "busy"; the team was likely in crisis mode.
Hunter thought for a moment, then typed a reply.
"Sure, handle your business. I came by to ask about some coding issues, but I'll visit another day."
He started the car again. After a moment of deliberation, he drove straight back to Dom's house.
Steve was ruthless, and he had a private army.
That night at the villa, Hunter had been shot at with automatic AKs.
In the gun-loving US, many households owned firearms. But most were civilian semi-automatics bought from Walmart or gun stores.
The military-grade automatic rifles Steve's men used proved one thing: Steve was not to be trifled with.
If Hunter was going to clash with him, he needed to be prepared.
His life was precious, and he had a bright future ahead of him. He wasn't going to throw it away by being under-equipped.
Arriving back at the Toretto house, Hunter drove directly to the rear garage and honked the horn.
The sound alerted the occupants.
Dom emerged from the side door. He instantly recognized the Ford Mustang he had gifted Hunter.
"Back so soon?"
Dom asked, surprised. Hunter had left just this morning implying he needed days to prepare.
"Ran into a little trouble."
Hunter got out of the car and stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"I need weapons. Something for self-defense."
Dom frowned slightly. He stared at Hunter intensely for a moment, assessing the situation.
Finally, he nodded and whispered.
"Follow me."
Chapter 77: The Tactical Crossbow
January 11
Hunter got out of the car and followed Dom.
Instead of entering the house, they walked toward the backyard.
Moments later, Dom stopped in a clearing a short distance behind the main building.
As he got closer, Hunter realized there was a storm cellar entrance hidden in the yard.
Basements and storm cellars were extremely common in the US. In many states, building codes practically mandated them.
This was due to America's unique geography, sandwiched between the Pacific and Atlantic oceans. The location made the continent a playground for tornadoes, hurricanes, and typhoons.
Tornadoes, in particular, posed a massive threat to the predominantly wood-frame houses in America. A storm cellar was often the only safe refuge when a twister touched down.
While Los Angeles wasn't Tornado Alley, it still saw freak weather events. Consequently, many suburban homes, especially older ones or self-built properties like the Torettos', had storm cellars built to code.
The lock on the cellar doors was clearly broken.
Anticipating Hunter's question, Dom explained, "The Feds forced it open when they tossed the place a couple of days ago."
Dom evidently hadn't had time to replace the lock yet. He bent down, hauled open the heavy doors, and descended the wooden ladder.
Hunter followed him down.
The cellar wasn't large—maybe two and a half meters deep and four meters square.
It was a simple concrete box. Three of the walls were lined with shelves stocked with canned goods, emergency rations, first aid kits, and jugs of water.
In the corner near the ladder, a small wooden partition hid a chemical toilet for emergencies.
Dom pulled a string to turn on a bare bulb. Once Hunter was down, he closed the cellar doors above them.
"Over here."
Dom walked to one of the shelving units and dragged it aside, revealing the concrete wall behind it.
He felt around for a specific brick and pressed it.
With a grinding sound, a section of the wall slowly slid open, revealing a hidden compartment.
The space was small—less than a meter wide and half a meter deep—but it was a perfectly concealed armory.
Hunter took one look and his eyes lit up.
Dom's collection wasn't vast, but the quality was undeniable.
Two M9s (Beretta 92FS pistols).
A Colt Python revolver.
Two Remington 870 shotguns.
A Zastava M70 assault rifle.
Several hand grenades.
And finally, a high-precision crossbow equipped with a rifle stock and an infrared scope.
Hunter's gaze lingered on the M70 rifle for a moment, then shifted to the crossbow.
Finally, he looked at Dom. "Dom, lend me that crossbow for a few days."
Hunter recognized it immediately.
It was a TAC-15 (or similar "Sniper Lyca" model in lore), one of the world's most powerful tactical crossbows.
Manufactured by PSE Archery (or similar), it was designed for special forces operating in environments where silence was paramount.
This thing hit harder than some short-range sniper rifles.
Its bolts could punch through an elephant's hide and shatter bone.
While its optimal range was only about 180 meters with a max range of 300, its silence and stopping power made it superior to a rifle for covert infiltration.
Hunter's [Marksmanship] skill was already at Lv 4.
When the skill leveled up, Hunter had gained proficiency not just with pistols, SMGs, and rifles, but also with bows and crossbows.
He was confident he could master this tactical crossbow in minutes.
Dom was surprised. He assumed Hunter was in deep trouble if he needed firepower.
Despite his reputation as a "highway hijacker," Dom wasn't as violent as he appeared.
In all their years of heists, Dom and his crew had only stolen cargo. At worst, they beat up drivers or knocked them out. They had never severely injured or killed anyone.
So while Dom owned illegal weapons like many Americans, he rarely used them.
"You like it? Keep it. It's yours."
The crossbow had been a gift from a partner years ago.
It was worth a fortune—at least five or six thousand dollars.
Dom had only used it once, on a hunting trip with the boys. He preferred old-school shotguns. Since then, it had gathered dust in this hidden cache.
Seeing Hunter's interest, Dom gave it away without hesitation.
"Thanks."
Hunter knew the value of the weapon, but he didn't stand on ceremony.
Steve's villa was a fortress. Storming it alone to save Stella wouldn't be easy.
He thought for a second, then reached into the cache and grabbed two hand grenades.
"I'll take these too. For insurance."
Dom's expression finally changed. He didn't stop Hunter, but his gaze turned serious.
"What kind of trouble are you in?"
"Is it dangerous?"
Hunter shook his head casually. "A friend of mine pissed off some gang bangers. Might get messy."
"Not too dangerous. Just want to be prepared."
Dom relaxed slightly.
He knew Hunter could fight. Vince was the best fighter in Dom's crew, second only to Dom himself, and Hunter had dropped him in seconds. Even when Vince brought backup, Hunter had handled them easily.
Dom trusted Hunter's combat skills. If he said it was just "some trouble," Dom believed him.
He nodded and helped Hunter pack the crossbow into its case. He also handed over a quiver with several dozen bolts.
Hunter didn't linger. He thanked Dom, took the gear, and drove off.
He needed to prep some other items. Tonight, he was paying another visit to Steve's villa.
He had to see if he could pull Stella out of the fire.
Chapter 78: A Clue Discovered, Charlie's Regret
January 11
In an apartment somewhere in Los Angeles, Lyle pocketed his phone.
Handsome Rob asked curiously, "Lyle, girlfriend calling?"
"No, no!"
Lyle shook his head quickly. "Just a friend. He wanted to ask me some coding questions. Charlie knows him too!"
Charlie, who had been deep in thought, looked up at the mention of his name.
"I know him? An old friend?"
"Not exactly," Lyle replied. "It's that Asian guy who modified our cars. He's really interested in computers."
"Over the last month, he's come to me a bunch of times to learn programming."
Charlie immediately pictured Hunter Sun.
He had a strong impression of Hunter.
A young man, but with exceptional skill in vehicle modification.
Moreover, Charlie had noticed that the Asian kid wasn't just handsome; his service attitude was miles better than the other mechanics Charlie had dealt with.
In the US, getting someone to work overtime through the night—especially someone with real talent—was harder than finding a hitman.
Charlie had worked with Hunter twice and had nothing but praise for him.
But now, hearing Lyle mention him so casually...
Charlie's meticulous, paranoid mind suddenly spawned a dark theory.
"Lyle!"
He looked up sharply. "When you talk to Hunter, did you ever mention what we were doing?"
"Or did he ever ask you why we needed the cars modified?"
A terrible thought had just taken root in Charlie's mind.
The gold was missing. Someone had beaten them to it.
Charlie suddenly began to suspect a leak.
It wasn't that he was overly sensitive. Stella had been kidnapped. The plan was blown.
While Charlie searched for a way to save Stella, he was also frantically trying to plug any holes in his operation. He had to know if there was a traitor in his midst.
Charlie's question was blunt.
Handsome Rob frowned slightly, glancing at Charlie before turning his gaze to Lyle.
Left Ear, the black demolitions expert, also looked at Charlie in surprise before fixing his eyes on Lyle.
Left Ear wasn't his real name, but his callsign. As the team's explosives expert, he had lost hearing in his right ear when he was ten years old, messing around with homemade bombs. The nickname stuck.
Lyle might be a socially awkward nerd, but his IQ wasn't negative.
Seeing everyone staring at him, Lyle panicked. He waved his hands frantically.
"Charlie, you're overthinking it!"
"I've known Hunter for almost a month. Aside from asking about coding, mostly he just listens to me talk about college or internet gossip."
"Hunter never asked about the cars. He never even asked who you were! I swear!"
Charlie trusted his team. He had worked with Lyle for years.
Hearing Lyle's vehement denial, the suspicion in Charlie's heart faded significantly.
Seeing Lyle's face flush with anxiety, Charlie realized he was being too paranoid.
But who could blame him? Months of planning had evaporated overnight. His gold was gone, his plan was exposed, and the woman he loved was in the hands of a psychopath.
Charlie looked calm on the outside, but inside, he was screaming.
"Sorry. I'm just... on edge."
Charlie apologized quickly, then changed the subject. "Lyle, how long until you can get the surveillance footage from around Steve's villa for the last three days?"
Lyle, being a simple-hearted techie, let go of his anger the moment Charlie apologized.
He thought for a second. "Give me ten minutes."
He opened his high-end laptop and began typing furiously.
Seven or eight minutes later, a smile returned to his face.
"Got it!"
Over two weeks ago, Lyle had hacked the security firm responsible for the district where Steve's villa was located. He had left a backdoor in their system.
Now, he effortlessly slipped back in and downloaded the footage.
He turned the laptop screen toward the group and began playing the clips one by one.
They watched intently. Soon, they spotted the problem.
"These cameras... they caught us."
"So that's why Steve was so sure we stole the gold."
"He must have gone to the security company afterwards and pulled the tapes."
Charlie felt a pang of guilt. When he first scouted Steve's villa, he had noticed the perimeter cameras.
But after discovering they belonged to a third-party security firm, Charlie had dismissed them.
He knew Steve was paranoid. Steve wouldn't trust a third-party company with his internal security.
Charlie had assumed that even if they were filmed, it wouldn't matter until after the heist was successful. By then, he wanted Steve to know who robbed him.
He never considered the possibility of being exposed before the operation even started.
But here they were.
"Charlie!"
Handsome Rob, who had been staring at the screen, pointed at a specific frame.
"Look. We were being followed."
Typically, security firms only kept footage for seven to fourteen days. But this company was diligent; they kept archives for a full month.
Lyle had started playback from the earliest available date, and they struck gold.
In one clip, a figure was visible near Steve's villa.
In another clip from a nearby camera—timestamped perfectly—Charlie and Stella were visible scouting the area.
The team huddled around the screen, their expressions grim.
They quickly found multiple clips showing the same figure.
The person was clearly prepared. They were wrapped up tight, face obscured.
Aside from confirming it was a man—and that he was definitely tailing Charlie and Stella—they couldn't glean any more information.
Silence fell over the room.
Even Charlie hadn't expected this.
He had spent his life hunting prey, never realizing he was the one being hunted.
From start to finish, he had never noticed the shadow trailing them.
Regret washed over him, bitter and heavy.
Chapter 79: Waiting for Nightfall
January 11
After reviewing all the surveillance footage, the group fell silent.
"We lost this round fair and square," Handsome Rob said finally, breaking the heavy atmosphere. "Someone's been watching us for over three weeks."
"And none of us noticed. Not once."
Charlie's face twitched, but he didn't argue.
He prided himself on his caution and meticulous planning. To have missed such a glaring threat was a humiliating failure.
"My fault," Charlie said after a long pause. "I was too careless."
He knew the dynamics of his team well. They were friends, yes, but profit was the glue that held them together. If Charlie stopped delivering paydays, the camaraderie would eventually fade until they drifted apart.
So, he took full responsibility for the failure.
He immediately began calculating the odds of stealing the gold back from this unknown third party—assuming they could even find him.
Handsome Rob, who was closest to Charlie, was the first to speak up.
"Charlie, we all know this isn't on you."
"We were all a little blinded by hate once we found Steve. We got sloppy."
With one sentence, Rob absolved Charlie of the blame and refocused the group.
Lyle and Left Ear didn't hold it against him either.
Their bond with John Bridger hadn't been as deep as Charlie's, but they had known the old man for years. If Charlie had been distracted by grief and a desire for revenge, it was understandable.
Everyone knew the history. John had been a mentor and a father figure to Charlie. If Charlie hadn't asked him to delay his retirement for one last job, John would still be alive.
So, Charlie hating Steve? That was expected.
Pat. Pat.
Lyle and Left Ear each clapped a hand on Charlie's shoulder. No words were needed. The matter was settled.
"Thanks, guys."
Charlie's mood lifted slightly at their support.
He checked his watch. It was nearly noon. They didn't have much time left to save Stella.
He pulled himself together and turned to Lyle. "Lyle, can you identify the guy who was tailing us?"
"Impossible," Lyle said, shrugging. He was a hacker, not God.
"The resolution on these security cameras is garbage. And the guy clearly knew what he was doing."
"You saw it yourself. He changes clothes constantly. He never shows his face."
"Unless I hack the entire LA traffic grid and pull footage from every intersection before they're deleted..."
"But even then, sifting through that much data to find one guy? It would take days. We don't have that kind of time."
Lyle was confident he could hack the traffic system. But he knew the city's retention policy. To save costs, LA traffic cams usually only kept footage for about seven days. Sometimes less if the budget was tight.
Finding the mystery man now was a pipe dream.
Charlie sighed. He had to give up on finding the thief for now.
He turned to Rob. "Rob, how's the prop coming along?"
"A ton of material? Even for fake gold, that takes time to source. I'm meeting a guy at two o'clock to pick it up."
Rob knew Charlie was asking about the decoy gold.
Charlie nodded and looked at Left Ear. "Left Ear, we need explosives. Something to ensure we have an exit strategy."
"That's tough," Left Ear shook his head. "This is LA, not a war zone. My usual contacts would need days to get me the raw materials."
Charlie grit his teeth. "I'll handle the gunpowder. You just build the devices."
"Done," Left Ear agreed instantly.
Charlie looked at Lyle again. Lyle instinctively shrank back into his chair. He was a tech guy, not a field operative. In past ops, he always stayed in the van.
Charlie realized this and sighed. "Lyle, you're on surveillance. Keep eyes on Steve's villa."
"No problem!" Lyle breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't have to go into the line of fire.
He eagerly offered, "I can hack the traffic lights too. If you guys need a getaway route, I can turn everything green for you."
"Good."
Charlie wasn't ready to give up completely. "Also... try to enhance the resolution on those clips. See if you can get a cleaner shot of the guy's face."
Lyle hesitated, knowing it was a long shot, but nodded. "I'll try."
"Thanks."
With tasks assigned, Charlie left the apartment.
As the leader, his job was the most complex. He needed to hit the black market for gunpowder, secure weapons for the team, and dig into Steve's background to see if he had any other enemies they could leverage.
The day passed quickly in a blur of activity.
Near Steve's villa, Hunter lowered his binoculars and stowed them in his Inventory.
He had spotted the climbing pitons he left on the cliff face days ago. They hadn't been removed.
But now, several surveillance cameras were pointed directly at them. The cliff was a trap.
Hunter carefully concealed himself in a large tree, waiting for nightfall.
His reconnaissance had confirmed his fears.
Steve's villa was a fortress.
Aside from the eight-man security team provided by the private firm patrolling the perimeter, Hunter could see multiple vehicles parked in the driveway.
He estimated there were at least ten men inside the villa itself.
And these weren't mall cops with flashlights. These were mercenaries armed with submachine guns and AKs. They were far more dangerous than the external security.
Breaking in again to save Stella—assuming she was there—was going to be exponentially harder than the first time.
He needed the cover of darkness.
And ideally... a distraction.
"Here's hoping Charlie figured out Stella is missing," Hunter thought as he settled against the tree bark. "And here's hoping he makes a move tonight."
With that thought, Hunter began his long wait, watching the villa as the sun began to set.
Chapter 80: Night Falls
January 11
"Mmph!"
"Cough! Cough!"
Ignoring Stella's struggles, Steve—who clearly didn't know the meaning of chivalry—finished his dinner and then forcibly pried her mouth open, pouring a glass of water down her throat.
Steve didn't care if she lived or died. Her beauty meant nothing to him.
What he cared about were the two safes that had been stolen. They contained the bulk of his wealth.
Without them, Steve would be destitute.
Forget maintaining his current lifestyle; he wouldn't even be able to afford the taxes on this villa.
That was why he hated "Charlie" and his team so much. In his mind, they were the ones who dared to rob him.
The only reason he had refrained from torturing Stella for the past two days—aside from starving her—was fear. He worried that if he killed her, he would lose his leverage. Without Stella as a bargaining chip, a desperate Charlie might just cut his losses, take the gold, and disappear forever, just like Steve had done a year ago.
If that happened, Steve would lose everything.
After all, American property taxes were truly terrifying.
Stella glared at Steve. Her last two days had been a nightmare.
For most of the time, she had been tied hand and foot and locked in a bedroom.
Clearly, Steve was wary of her lockpicking skills. Even after searching her thoroughly to ensure she had no metal objects or tools, he refused to use handcuffs. He stuck to ropes.
Steve not only starved her but also denied her requests to use the bathroom.
One can imagine how humiliating her current state was and how intense her rage had become.
Steve, perhaps fearing he might lose control and kill her if she started cursing him again, didn't give her the chance.
After forcing the water down her throat, he stuffed the napkin back into her mouth before she could utter a word.
"Quiet down. Your suffering will end soon."
Steve wiped his hands and walked back to his seat, distancing himself from her.
Even though Stella was beautiful, the smell of urine clinging to her was a powerful mood killer.
Watching her eyes practically shoot fire at him, Steve casually picked up a banana for dessert.
Peeling it, he took a bite and chewed slowly. "Knowing Charlie... even though I gave him twenty-four hours..."
"He's probably going to try his luck tonight."
Stella's heart sank. She knew Charlie hadn't even started the heist.
Steve's guess was technically wrong, but practically correct. Since Charlie couldn't produce the gold Steve demanded, he would have no choice but to attempt a rescue tonight under the cover of darkness.
Earlier that afternoon, perhaps to show off or intimidate her, Steve had dragged Stella on a "tour" of the villa.
Consequently, Stella knew exactly what kind of fortress she was trapped in.
Because of the "theft," Steve had pressured the security firm. To avoid a scandal that could lose them the contract for the entire district, the firm had agreed to cooperate fully.
They were sharing their surveillance feeds with Steve and had deployed an eight-man tactical team to patrol the perimeter. These weren't rent-a-cops; they were ex-military, the firm's elite unit.
Inside the villa, it was even worse.
Steve had called in over a dozen of his own mercenaries and parked four modified, bulletproof SUVs in the driveway.
The high-voltage electric fence surrounding the property had been upgraded to lethal settings.
Add in the dense network of new surveillance cameras covering every blind spot... Stella couldn't imagine how Charlie could possibly break in to save her.
Panic began to set in.
"Heh."
Steve watched her expression shift from anger to fear, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction.
The tour had served its purpose. He wanted her to know the odds. He wanted her to despair.
"Now, Charlie!"
"Don't disappoint me."
"Come on. Let me see how you navigate my little maze and save your beloved woman."
It was past 8:00 PM. Steve was getting impatient. He wanted Charlie to show up and step into the trap he had meticulously laid.
More than a hundred meters away, perched high in a large tree overlooking the villa.
Hunter, dressed in black tactical gear, pulled the Tactical Crossbow from his Personal Inventory.
He loaded a bolt onto the rail and peered through a gap he had carefully trimmed in the foliage.
His gaze locked onto a specific, unassuming target on the villa grounds.
The main distribution panel.
It controlled the power for the villa, the perimeter lights, and the high-voltage fence.
If he took it out, the villa would be plunged into darkness.
But not for long.
Hunter had leveled his [Electrician] skill to Lv 2. During his previous infiltration, he had spotted what looked like a backup generator in the garage.
He had been in a rush to steal the gold then, so he hadn't examined it closely. But he always planned for the worst.
If Steve had a backup generator, it would kick in within minutes. The power would be restored quickly.
That meant Hunter only had a window of a few minutes to breach the villa, find Stella, and extract her.
Time was tight. He might only get one shot.
As for hitting a distribution box from over a hundred meters away?
Hunter wasn't worried.
[Marksmanship Lv 4]. Confidence came with the skill level.
"Charlie... what are you waiting for?"
Hunter glanced inadvertently toward a spot down the mountain.
It was a surveillance blind spot he had used before.
Now, Charlie's vehicles were lurking there.
Hunter murmured to himself, his finger resting gently on the trigger.
He was just waiting for the perfect moment to loose the bolt.
Near Steve's villa, hidden in the darkness.
Two cars sat silently, lights off.
With the help of their top-tier hacker, Lyle, Charlie and his team had managed to approach the main gate without alerting the security firm or Steve.
Charlie drove the first car. Handsome Rob and Left Ear were in the second.
Lyle hadn't joined the assault team. He was stationed at the foot of the mountain in the modified Dodge Ram 3500 van Hunter had worked on, providing remote technical support.