ch: 119-121
Chapter 119: Under Surveillance, Hypotheses Confirmed
Discovering he was being watched, Hunter, having returned from Boston, decided not to rush to meet Mia or Stella.
Even with Teri, he only took time to visit her secretly late at night.
During one of these covert visits, Hunter gave her a new phone.
He solemnly warned her that all her old bank cards, social media accounts, and digital footprints were strictly off-limits.
Over the next few days, he noticed a few recurring faces tailing him.
Although they acted professionally and kept a good distance...
Hunter, with his increasingly superior memory, still spotted these shadows.
Based on their behavior, he was almost certain: these stalkers were from the FBI.
Because they needed evidence of Dom's hijacked goods to convict him.
In the past, every time Dom's crew hijacked a truckload of electronics on the California highways...
They would quickly liquidate the goods through various channels.
Dom was meticulous, which was why the California police hadn't caught them for years.
This time, although the FBI had identified him...
Without Hunter's intervention, Dom's crew would have been exposed for sure.
But!
Hunter had intervened.
The most direct evidence—millions of dollars worth of electronics—had been transported away by Hunter and sold in Boston.
As the world's most complex market and the largest nation for smuggling...
Once any product entered the US black market, trying to find it again...
Was harder than asking Dom to rob another truck right now and get caught red-handed by the FBI.
If the massive and complex US smuggling market were that easy to track and clean up...
This country wouldn't be the world's largest smuggling hub.
So, Hunter wasn't actually worried about the FBI watching him.
He knew clearly that even if they suspected him, they couldn't find any evidence.
All Hunter needed to do was temporarily cut contact with Dom's crew.
If he had to pinpoint one thing that might leave him vulnerable to FBI suspicion...
It was probably that $600,000 payment.
But during his few days in Boston and Springfield, Hunter had already withdrawn all that money in cash.
That bank card was now effectively dead.
Even if the FBI investigated and found the transfer record from Dom...
Hunter could simply claim it was the fee Mia paid him for helping bail them out previously.
Whether the FBI believed it or not didn't matter!
Because they couldn't find further evidence proving Hunter helped smuggle the stolen goods.
In the US, it wasn't hard for the FBI to suspect a regular person of a crime and eventually convict them.
They manufactured quite a few wrongful convictions every year. There were even legal aid organizations specifically watching the FBI for this.
But they were a violent institution and a key US intelligence agency.
Once an ordinary person was framed by the FBI, it was trouble.
However, framing a rich man for a crime? That wasn't something the FBI could do casually.
Hunter wasn't short on money now. Compared to the FBI, he was actually more worried about the IRS (Internal Revenue Service).
That was one of the reasons why he withdrew the $600,000 the moment it hit his account.
After making targeted preparations for potential weak points...
Hunter, fully prepared, stopped caring about the FBI agents tailing him, acting as if they didn't exist.
After all, on the surface, he was just an ordinary Asian youth who had just come of age.
A few months ago, he was just a regular mechanic.
Significant changes had happened to him in recent months.
It wasn't something that could be explained in a few sentences.
Anyway, Hunter was ready, waiting for the FBI's next move.
So, he wasn't panicked at all.
Taking advantage of the time while he was under surveillance and couldn't contact Mia or Stella...
Hunter went out early every day, keeping himself busy.
With money, plans he previously had could now be put into practice.
Hunter signed up for many training classes: tennis, badminton, basketball, gym, Taekwondo, and Judo.
He actually visited Los Angeles Chinatown as well, but unexpectedly, he didn't trigger any skills there...
Otherwise, with his [Proficiency System], Hunter would definitely have seriously learned some martial arts for self-defense.
Through learning boxing, he had realized the necessity of combat skills.
Western combat techniques mostly followed a simple and practical route.
Boxing, Taekwondo, and Judo were all fairly similar in that regard.
After raising his [Boxing] skill above Lv 3...
Hunter gradually discovered that without combat techniques, fighting relied entirely on physical stats, endurance, and stamina.
But with high-level, practical combat skills, one could use 70%, 60%, or even 20-30% of their strength to easily knock down an opponent.
Not only was it more efficient, but it also saved a lot of stamina.
In terms of complexity and technique...
Chinese martial arts (fist forms, leg methods, etc.) were far more complex than boxing, Taekwondo, or Judo.
After all, these were experiences and combat techniques summarized by ancestors over hundreds or thousands of years.
They were tailored to the physique of Chinese people, mostly aiming to defeat the strong with the weak, or the many with the few.
Unfortunately, after Hunter toured LA Chinatown...
He found a few martial arts dojos.
But upon entering, he discovered they were either Karate, Judo, or Taekwondo schools selling dog meat as mutton (false advertising).
Or they were straight-up scammers, preventing Hunter from even triggering a skill.
However, after a few days passed and tens of thousands of dollars were spent...
With the dedicated coaching of over a dozen private instructors...
The levels of the dozen-plus new skills Hunter triggered had all increased by at least two levels.
Hunter proved his earlier speculation was correct.
With the [Proficiency System], he could pay elites from all walks of life to teach him various professional skills.
Gain experience points rapidly, level up skills, and thereby obtain a massive amount of Skill Points.
For Hunter, this was undoubtedly excellent news.
Because it meant that one day in the future, he really could become an omniscient, omnipotent existence.
Well, provided the Proficiency System didn't have a level cap.
Chapter 120: Strength Increased, Fishing Expedition
Waking up from a short sleep!
After opening his eyes, Hunter immediately sensed it.
The vibrant vitality and surging power radiating from this body.
Hunter naturally knew where this feeling came from.
With a thought, the Proficiency System's light screen appeared before him.
Hunter scanned it quickly.
[Host: Hunter Sun]
[Lifespan: 18/72]
[Intelligence: 33]
[Strength: 31]
[Agility: 30]
[Constitution: 30]
[Endurance: 30]
[Free Attribute Points: 0]
[Personal Inventory: 122 cubic meters]
Just yesterday, thanks to his frantic spending on training, several skills had leveled up, granting him more attribute points.
Now, he had finally raised all five of his attributes to more than three times that of an average adult male.
"Feels good!"
Feeling the seemingly endless power surging through his body...
Hunter knew it was just an illusion of omnipotence.
But he liked it. The sensation of overflowing strength and vitality truly put him in a good mood.
Incidentally, Hunter also discovered something else.
With all five attributes surpassing the "3x human average" threshold... although he hadn't gone to sleep until after 2 AM last night...
It was now only 6:30 AM. He had slept for just over four hours.
Yet, he felt no fatigue at all.
Instead, he felt more energetic than ever before.
Hunter wasn't sure yet if this was a permanent buff from his enhanced attributes...
Or just temporary excitement from the upgrade.
He decided to test it over the next few days to verify his hypothesis.
"Phew!"
As usual, he went to the bathroom for a cold shower.
Walking out while drying himself, wearing only boxers...
He knew his apartment was likely being monitored by the FBI.
However, Hunter had been pretending not to know.
To confuse them!
In the past few days, the "enthusiastic neighbor lady" next door, occasionally feeling lonely at night, had come over to "offer warmth."
Enduring a strange sense of voyeurism, Hunter pretended to be completely unaware of the surveillance...
And performed a few "harmonies of life" with the neighbor lady in the apartment.
He wondered if those suspected FBI agents...
Were privately amazed by his "extraordinary assets," or perhaps his stamina and experience, which far exceeded the average man.
Anyway, feeling slightly guilty toward the warm-hearted neighbor...
Hunter decided that when Mathilda's greedy father inevitably got the family killed by stealing Stansfield's drugs...
He would prioritize saving this neighbor lady first.
As for Mathilda and the rest of her family?
Regrettably, they were not under Hunter's protection.
After all!
Ever since that rebellious little lolita discovered the relationship between Hunter and her mother...
She had stopped showing any closeness or curiosity toward him.
It was late June in Los Angeles, and the arrival of summer was palpable.
Even in the early morning, the heat rose with the sun, quickly covering the entire LA area.
Hunter had only been drying himself for a moment when he noticed the water on the rest of his body had already evaporated in the heat.
Although he wasn't an exhibitionist and knew he was being watched...
As his muscles trended toward perfection, Hunter increasingly enjoyed displaying them intentionally.
Yes, he liked women seeing and being mesmerized by them.
He also enjoyed men seeing them and seething with jealousy.
So, wearing only boxers, he prepared a lavish breakfast.
Then, he ate it slowly, alone.
Finally, after consuming nearly three times the amount of food a normal adult male would eat...
Only then did Hunter feel faintly full and stop eating.
He washed the dishes and tidied up the apartment.
After all, the warm-hearted neighbor lady had visited last night.
When she left, her legs were shaking so bad that if she hadn't held onto the wall, she might not have made it back to her own apartment next door.
Naturally, Hunter couldn't expect her to help clean up.
Looking at the tissues and "family planning products" scattered on the floor, he quickly swept them into the trash bin.
He bagged everything up, planning to throw it all away when he went out today.
After doing all this, Hunter washed up briefly.
He changed into clean clothes, ready to head out.
Today, Hunter didn't plan to go to various clubs or dojos to grind skills.
He had business to attend to!
It had been a week since he rescued Teri from Boston.
Because she lacked ID, she had been stuck in her rented apartment.
Only occasionally, when Hunter visited, did she look somewhat happy.
adhering to the principle of "seeing the job through," he had found someone to help Teri get new ID documents.
It was a fake ID, but strictly speaking, not entirely fake.
First, Hunter contacted the group that made his fake passport to create a comprehensive set of fake birth and school records for Teri.
Using this information, he had contacted an insurance company in LA to buy Teri medical insurance.
Then, with that expensive insurance policy in hand, Hunter would take Teri to a designated, equally expensive private hospital.
There, he would help Teri apply for a new medical card.
Once she had the medical card, the information from her fake identity...
Would be entered into the US federal medical and insurance systems, effectively becoming her government-recognized identity.
Teri would thus gain a brand new, federally recognized identity.
These methods weren't exactly brilliant. If the FBI really investigated thoroughly...
They could still find flaws.
So whenever Hunter visited Teri recently, he deliberately shook off the FBI tails.
He didn't know how much longer they could hold back, but their patience was likely running thin.
After dressing up simply, Hunter grabbed several trash bags and walked out.
Just as he reached the fourth floor, he sharply heard movement from behind the door of one of the apartments.
Hunter knew that a few FBI agents had moved into that unit a few days ago.
Clearly, they were getting restless.
And today, Hunter—who had also lost patience with this game of cat and mouse—was ready to go "fishing."
Chapter 121: Diverting the Trouble
Fourth floor of the apartment building, inside Room 4B.
FBI Agent Lamb felt like he had just fallen asleep when someone woke him up.
"Hey!"
"Lamb, the target is leaving."
Lamb felt his body being shaken continuously. He opened his eyes.
His large, dim eyes were filled with dissatisfaction and exhaustion.
"Harry, what time is it..."
Yawning, Lamb struggled to stand up from the bed.
He exchanged glances with his partner, Harry, who looked equally exhausted with bloodshot eyes, then looked at the surveillance equipment nearby.
On the screen, an Asian youth who had finished changing clothes was walking toward a blind spot of the surveillance camera.
Soon, he disappeared from the monitor for a long time.
Lamb immediately realized that Hunter Sun—the Asian youth the FBI had ordered them to monitor recently—was going out.
He hurriedly glanced at the time and couldn't help but curse, "Damn it, it's not even seven o'clock yet. Is this guy a monster in human skin?"
Last night, Lamb and his partner Harry were together.
In this temporarily rented apartment, they had witnessed with their own eyes the Chinese-American youth they were monitoring, Hunter Sun.
Last night, he had fooled around with the beautiful neighbor lady, tossing and turning from after 9 PM until nearly 1 AM before stopping.
When it ended, the beautiful and kind-hearted neighbor lady had to rest for over half an hour.
Only then did she leave slowly, trembling and supporting herself against the wall.
Under their surveillance, Hunter Sun displayed monster-like stamina.
The immense strength he showed while easily lifting her into various positions...
And the "size" inadvertently revealed...
It made both FBI agents feel hot and bothered while watching, but also gave rise to a complex mix of inferiority, envy, and jealousy.
Especially since they knew this "Hunter Sun" was only eighteen years old.
While amazed, their suspicion of him deepened.
After all, everything Hunter showed...
Although there didn't seem to be anything overtly suspicious, he was an orphan whose parents had died.
Hunter didn't work, yet he had plenty of money to join various clubs and learn all sorts of things.
No matter how you looked at it, there was something fishy.
And now, this youth who had only turned off the lights to sleep at 1 or 2 AM last night...
Was up after just a few hours of sleep, full of energy.
It looked like he was ready to go out.
In an instant, the exhausted Lamb looked at the equally tired Harry.
As the two FBI agents looked at each other, they saw the weariness and helplessness in each other's eyes.
"What a monster!"
Harry yawned and smiled bitterly at Lamb. "Lamb, I'll notify the bureau to arrange a tail team."
"Before they take over, you follow him first."
"I haven't slept a wink on my shift. If I make a mistake while tracking him, it'll be bad."
"Yeah!"
Although Lamb was also very tired, at least he had rested for a bit.
He nodded helplessly, got up, and threw on some clothes.
A moment later, after the external surveillance camera showed Hunter walking out of the apartment building...
Lamb immediately determined the direction and followed.
Neither of them knew that at this very moment, on the sixth floor of the apartment building...
At the door of Mathilda's home, a seemingly ordinary sticky note...
Was slid into the room through the gap under the door.
Over an hour later, Mathilda's home began to get noisy.
Michael (Mathilda's father) yawned and glanced at his wife, Margie, who was still fast asleep in bed.
He gently kissed his wife on the cheek.
Then, without disturbing her, he got out of bed and walked toward the bathroom.
Michael knew his wife Margie worked as a hostess at a nightclub.
He even knew that Margie was often taken out by rich clients to party until the early hours of the morning.
That was how he met his wife back in the day.
Michael also knew that if he hadn't made a fortune through theft back then...
A great beauty like Margie, even just a nightclub hostess, wouldn't have ended up with him.
So over the years, Michael had turned a blind eye to his wife staying out all night.
Just as he often fooled around outside for various reasons, sometimes not coming home for days, and Margie never asked him why.
This was the reason the couple had lasted this long without divorcing.
He walked quickly to the bathroom. Seeing the door closed and hearing water and singing from inside...
Michael knew it was Margie's eldest daughter, Liv (Mathilda's half-sister).
Liv wasn't related to him by blood, but Michael only dared to have slight thoughts about her, never daring to put them into practice.
Because Michael knew Liv was his wife Margie's bottom line.
"Liv, hurry up, Daddy needs to use the toilet."
Michael knocked on the door and shouted a reminder.
He knew that because of his wife's spoiling, Liv was not only vulgar but also vain and spent money lavishly.
When she took a morning shower, it wouldn't end in less than half an hour.
So, Michael had to remind her.
"Wait a bit longer, old man!"
Liv's dissatisfied voice came from the bathroom. "I just started washing."
Michael's face immediately showed displeasure.
He had hidden the drugs that the corrupt cop Stansfield had stashed in his house inside the bathroom.
Every day after waking up, Michael had to check them to prevent any problems.
He was about to knock again to urge Liv to finish quickly.
Suddenly, Michael's gaze inadvertently swept across the floor near the door not far away. There seemed to be a piece of paper on the ground.
Subconsciously, he walked over, bent down to pick it up, and looked at it. His face changed drastically.
The seemingly ordinary sticky note, once unfolded, revealed a few short lines of words.
"Idiot, you are being watched."
"There is surveillance near the apartment entrance. Go notify the owner of that shipment immediately."
After reading the words clearly, Michael broke out in a cold sweat.
Others might not know, but he knew perfectly well.
Right now, his home was storing a full ten kilograms of drugs for Stansfield, a corrupt DEA agent who stole from his own busts.
Once someone had eyes on those drugs, or if they were lost...
His end wouldn't be pretty.
In an instant, Michael felt as if all strength had left his body.
Leaning against the wall, he slowly slid down to sit weakly on the floor.