Convincing Pepper Potts was no easy feat.
But in the end, Eren managed it.
The compromise was that he had to check in with her twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening, to reassure her of his safety. For Eren, this was a small price to pay.
Before anything else, he needed to buy a new phone at the nearby mall—his original phone had vanished when his former self was knocked out and abducted. Whether the thugs had stolen it or discarded it somewhere, he couldn't be sure.
After seeing Pepper off in her car, Eren returned home and secured the building's entrance with its lock and deadbolt.
While Chinatown wasn't as chaotic as Hell's Kitchen, it wasn't exactly safe at night. Getting ambushed in an alley before was proof enough of that. And now, with a potential enemy after him, extra caution was warranted.
Back in his room, Eren quickly packed a few sets of clothes before sliding his bed aside and peeling back the carpet. Using tools he had prepared, he pried up a loose floor tile.
Beneath the tile lay a hidden stash: a bank card and three rolls of cash.
These were the lifelong savings of his late mother and grandparents.
Eren's mother, a hardworking Chinese-American businesswoman, had died in a car accident a year ago. With Pepper's help, the inheritance—after taxes—had left Eren with enough to sustain himself: $300,000 in savings and ownership of this three-story building on the edge of Chinatown.
As for his father, he was a nonentity. According to Eren's mother, she had used a sperm donor to avoid pressure from her parents to marry. Her choice had nearly caused a rift with her family but was ultimately accepted after Eren's birth.
Growing up, Eren had lived with his grandparents while his mother worked tirelessly to support them. Tragically, he lost his grandfather to illness at age ten, followed shortly by his grief-stricken grandmother.
The building, originally left to Eren's mother, had been handed down to him after two rounds of inheritance taxes, which had drained a significant portion of the family's wealth.
Still, Eren's assets far exceeded the average person's. With $30,000 in cash reserves at home and a building whose ground floor could be rented as a storefront, he was relatively well-off.
This wealth, however, was likely what had drawn the gang's attention.
With the cash and bank card safely stashed in his backpack, Eren restored the floor and bed to their original state.
Next, he retrieved a key from his drawer and descended to the building's basement.
The old wooden door to the basement, worn from years of neglect, resisted his efforts to open it. Only after several heavy kicks did it finally budge, dislodging a New Testament calendar from the wall in the process.
As dust swirled in the air, Eren pressed a switch on the wall, illuminating the room with a blinding array of incandescent lights.
His grandfather, wary of the dark, had once meticulously outfitted the basement with an abundance of lights. The result was almost overkill but undeniably effective.
Once the air had cleared, Eren descended the creaky wooden stairs and searched the hidden compartment in a drawer near the entrance. From it, he retrieved a pistol wrapped in oilcloth.
The weapon, a well-maintained Beretta 92F, gleamed in the light. This was his grandfather's prized possession, a gun that had protected the Lin family for generations. Stories of this pistol had been a part of Eren's childhood, passed down as a symbol of resilience.
Holding the firearm in his hands for the first time, Eren felt a surge of confidence.
With the money and pistol in hand, Eren wasted no time. He left home and rented a room at a small Chinese-run motel several blocks away.
Lying on the unfamiliar bed, Eren reflected on his eventful day.
"This life is already more thrilling than my last," he muttered, turning over.
As he reviewed his predecessor's fragmented memories, a peculiar weariness settled over him. The more he focused, the heavier the fatigue grew, until his thoughts blurred and he began to drift off.
Suddenly, Eren felt the air around him grow dense and still, an oppressive sensation that made his skin crawl.
Then came the whispers.
Maddening, eerie, and strangely alluring, the voices surrounded him as if dozens of unseen figures were murmuring directly into his ears.
No matter how hard he tried, Eren couldn't decipher the words. Instead, the whispers only intensified his headache, each syllable like a hammer to his skull.
As the pain reached its peak, the cacophony abruptly ceased. The whispers retreated like a receding tide, leaving behind an unsettling silence.
Eren's surroundings felt weightless and surreal, as though his very soul had been unmoored. It was as if he had crossed an invisible boundary, entering an unknown realm.
When he opened his eyes again, his vision was consumed by swirling white mist.
(End of Chapter)
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