The day after teaching Vince a lesson, Hunter did absolutely nothing.
He had assumed Dom would show up to settle the score for Vince's beating, so he stayed home, waiting.
To pass the time, he read through the dozen technical manuals on mechanics and automotive engineering he had bought earlier.
Thanks to his high Intelligence (16), his reading comprehension and memory were superhuman. He tore through the dense technical material without breaking a sweat, gaining a steady stream of Reading EXP.
But he waited all day.
Dom never showed up.
Hunter went to sleep late that night, puzzled.
The next morning, Hunter decided not to wait anymore.
He found the number Parker gave him and dialed.
"Who is this?" a cautious male voice answered.
Hunter settled into a comfortable position on his couch. "Someone told me you need a mechanic who specializes in modifications."
"As long as the price is right, I'm game."
Silence on the other end.
"You in LA?" the man finally asked.
"Yeah."
"Okay. Let's talk in person."
"Come to [Address Redacted], XX Street. I'll wait for you there."
"Deal."
Hunter hung up, changed his clothes, and left the apartment.
Aside from basic appliances, anything valuable—including his recent purchases—was safely stored in his Personal Inventory. He wasn't worried about burglars.
Hunter took a circuitous route, checking for tails before ducking into an alley without surveillance cameras. He mounted his motorcycle and sped off from the other side.
The address was over 25 miles away.
It took him a while to navigate the unfamiliar area. After asking for directions a few times, he finally pulled up to a Burger King.
A bit surprised by the location, Hunter parked his bike and dialed the number again.
"I'm here. Outside the fast food joint."
"Go to Table 11."
Hunter scanned the restaurant through the glass. Nothing suspicious.
He walked in.
"Welcome to Burger King!" a server greeted him cheerfully. "What can I get for you?"
"Just point me to Table 11," Hunter smiled.
The server pointed to a booth near the entrance.
Hunter thanked him and walked over. The table was empty.
Strange. But he sat down anyway.
Five minutes passed. No one came.
The server walked over again. "Sir, are you ready to order?"
Hunter knew this was a polite way of saying "buy something or leave."
It was lunchtime anyway. He picked up the menu.
"Give me a Double Whopper, a large Coke, and a Mexican Chicken Wrap."
"And a side of onion rings."
The food arrived quickly. Hunter ate leisurely, unbothered by the wait.
Another five minutes passed.
Behind him, he heard the server greet someone. Footsteps approached his table.
Someone sat down opposite him.
Hunter's senses, sharpened by his enhanced stats, snapped to attention.
He looked up.
Hunter froze mid-chew, an onion ring dangling from his fingers.
Internally, a tidal wave of shock crashed over him.
Holy sht. Mark Wahlberg?!*
It wasn't just a resemblance. The man sitting across from him—a nondescript white male in his forties, neither tall nor particularly muscular—looked exactly like the Hollywood star from his past life.
Hunter knew he was in a parallel world based on Fast & Furious. He had met Dom, Letty, and the rest.
But as far as he knew—up until his transmigration—Mark Wahlberg had never been in a Fast movie. Not even in Hobbs & Shaw.
A startling hypothesis formed in Hunter's mind.
He couldn't be sure yet.
"Hi. What should I call you?" the man asked, initiating the conversation.
Hunter swallowed the onion ring and wiped his grease-stained hand in the air, signaling he couldn't shake.
"Hunter."
"You're the one who needs 'repair services'?" Hunter asked, using a coded phrase.
The man smiled. He seemed to appreciate Hunter's quick wit.
"Charlie."
"I do have a car that needs work. Want to show me your skills?"
Hunter's brain raced. Charlie. Mark Wahlberg.
He grabbed his untouched chicken wrap and stood up.
"Sure. Let's go now. I'm on a schedule."
"Good."
Charlie was decisive. He paid for Hunter's meal and even left a tip.
Outside, Hunter pointed to his motorcycle.
"I rode here. If you're driving, just give me the address. I'll follow."
Charlie nodded, gave him a location and a rough route, then walked toward the parking lot.
Hunter didn't wait. He put on his helmet and roared off.
His excitement was spiking.
He had a lead on who "Charlie" was.
If his guess was right, this world wasn't just Fast & Furious.
It was a cinematic universe fusion. A melting pot of countless action movies.
If that was true... Hunter's potential playground just got a whole lot bigger.
He wouldn't need to force his way into Dom's plotline anymore.
There were far more dangerous—and profitable—stories waiting to be written.
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