After careful reconnaissance and thorough research, Haoran and the spirit had finally secured an apartment that met their current needs. It wasn't luxurious, but it was a major step up from the dingy apartment and back-alley hideouts they were used to. The building was old but sturdy, tucked away in a quieter part of the city, just the right mix of anonymity and convenience. Nobody here asked questions, and that was exactly what they needed.
Of course, none of this would've been possible without the stacks of dirty money they had taken off some very bad men. Beating criminals senseless and emptying their pockets had its perks, but even that wasn't enough.
Haoran had set up a small convenience store a few days ago, ensuring a steady flow of "legitimate" income.
It was a simple operation, a perfect front,one that kept the heat off their backs while making it easier to launder cash.
Standing in the middle of the apartment, he let out a low whistle. "This should do nicely,"
Haoran smirked, running his fingers along the countertop. "Damn. I didn't know modernism was like this. Is this what it feels like to live like a functioning member of society?"
The spirit let out a dry chuckle. "What, you expected bloodstains on the walls and broken furniture? Give yourself some credit, we're criminals, not savages."
"Criminals with taste. That's a new one."
"Hey, if we're going to rob bastards blind, might as well do it in style," the spirit mused. "Besides, you don't have to sleep in a rat-infested dump anymore. That's an improvement, wouldn't you say?"
Haoran rolled his shoulders, already feeling at home. "Fair enough. Let's see what we're working with."
Haoran strolled through the place, taking stock. "Small kitchen over here, nothing fancy, but it'll do. Living area's got a couch and a TV, so at least I won't be bored. And the bedroom…" He peeked inside and let out a low chuckle. "Well, look at that. An actual bed. No roaches, no creaky-ass floorboards. Might as well be a damn penthouse."
The spirit hummed in approval. "No excuses for being cranky now. You actually have a decent place to sleep."
"Crankiness is part of my charm." He flopped onto the couch, stretching out.
"Damn. This is surreal. Feels like I scammed my way into a better life."
"You did," the spirit reminded him. "Except instead of scamming, we beat the crap out of people and took their money. Much more efficient."
Haoran grinned, propping his feet up on the coffee table.
"Yeah, and those guys weren't exactly innocent. We're practically doing the world a favor."
The spirit chuckled darkly. "And yet, nobody's handing us medals. Strange how that works."
"Eh, medals are for suckers. I'll take stacks of cash and a nice place to crash any day," Haoran said, stretching lazily.
He glanced around, his smirk widening. "Not bad. Not bad at all."
"Enjoy it while you can. Who knows when we'll have to burn it all down and start over?"
Haoran chuckled. "Then we just beat up some new bastards and take their cash. Same game, different players."
"Spoken like a true professional," the spirit mused.
"Damn right." Haoran leaned back, completely at ease.
"Now, let's see what this TV's got. If I'm gonna enjoy my stolen apartment, I'm doing it right."
Haoran leaned back on the couch, a half-empty pizza box on the table in front of him. The warm scent of cheese and pepperoni filled the room as he grabbed another slice, taking a lazy bite. The TV flickered with the evening news, the anchor's voice droning on about some actor's latest scandal.
The spirit, still comfortably settled inside him, let out a content sigh. "You know, for a guy who used to sleep in abandoned buildings, you're really settling into this 'rich criminal' lifestyle."
Haoran smirked, wiping his fingers on a napkin.
"Took long enough, huh? Not my fault those idiots were carrying around a portable ATM with their pins. Who just hauls that much cash around like it's nothing?"
"Arrogant men with too much money and no survival instincts," the spirit mused. "Their loss. Our gain."
"Feels good, though. No more stress about where to sleep, no more sketchy apartment owners giving me that 'I know you can't afford this' look. Just a nice place, good food, and a fat stack of cash sitting pretty in the closet."
"And yet, here am I, eating greasy takeout on a couch like a broke student."
"You better order better food, expensive ones."
Haoran grinned, taking a sip of soda. "Hey, just because we're rich now doesn't mean we gotta start eating fancy. I'm not about to swap this for some overpriced steak."
The news switched to a report on a recent crime wave, security camera footage showing a group of masked men storming a backroom poker game. The ticker at the bottom reads: Authorities suspect underground syndicate involvement.
"Hah. Amateurs. Look at 'em, taking their sweet time. We were in and out in, what, five minutes?"
"Four and a half," the spirit corrected. "Efficiency is key."
"Damn straight. And look at us now. Chilling. Eating pizza. Watching idiots fumble their way through crimes like they've never done this before."
The spirit let out a chuckle. "Maybe we should leave a guidebook behind next time. How to Rob Criminals Without Embarrassing Yourself."
"Nah, let 'em struggle. More entertainment for us." He glanced at the stack of cash they had tucked away earlier, a satisfied smirk creeping onto his face. "Man, we should've done this sooner."
"Enjoy it while it lasts. The world's full of bastards with too much money. We'll never run out of work."
Haoran raised his soda can in a mock toast.
"To making dirty money, spending it well, and never getting caught."
The spirit chuckled. "I'll drink to that."