He put the phone in his pocket and went to buy a mattress.
'You know me so well, system... and don't worry...'
'I don't need tips because I do indeed... go at this shit since I was in high school.'
...
In District 4, Erosyne City's commercial district was the kind of neighborhood where you could walk to everything, but none of it was very intriguing.
The furniture store somehow worked. At four in the afternoon, the grocery store was busy in a way that showed that everyone in the area worked the same shift and had the same idea at the same time.
Mike went through it without wasting any energy. The mattress will be delivered tomorrow morning.
Some bedding, a few plates, basic cooking tools, and enough food for three or four days. Nothing that looks nice.
Fun fact, he had never been someone who liked to decorate.
He had dinner at a small restaurant two blocks from the apartment because he didn't have any pots yet. He watched people walk by outside the window and let his mind wander.
He thought about what the system had told him and how it worked. Desire level as a measurable resource.
He wasn't surprised by the idea because he had always known that human attention and desire could be grown and directed in a practical way. He had used that knowledge for a number of most of his debauchery life.
The system only gave him a score. And Mike always respected people who knew exactly where they stood.
"Five to twenty is where most interactions stop," he thought over and over.
He knew the answer.
In the beginning, everything is new and possible. The person you're interested in doesn't know what to expect from you, and that makes them more interested.
But the pattern has to become real at some point between five and twenty, as this is when both individuals begin to establish a deeper connection and understanding of each other. You need to stop being interesting and start being there, which means showing genuine support and presence in their life rather than just captivating their attention.
'I think this is going to be a piece of cake...'
'I just need not to start any crime before I have much power in this country.'
He paid for his food and then walked back to his apartment.
The building was quiet, like structures get quiet in the early evening when everyone is inside doing their own thing. He walked by the management office on his way to the stairs.
The inside light was on. He could hear the low hum of a TV.
He didn't knock on the door. He kept on going.
"Let the curiosity sit," the system had said.
He finally listened.
...
The mattress delivery on the second day started at eight in the morning, which was thirty minutes earlier than the time they had given him.
This is how all delivery services work.
He had a working bedroom by nine. He had made coffee with the small press he had bought by ten and was standing on his balcony watching the street below come to life.
"Good cup of coffee this morning... now... I just have to lock in on some baddies so that I can see what this system is going to reward me."
At exactly 9:47, Petricia left the building.
He saw it because he was looking down when the front door opened. She wore a cardigan over what looked like a simple dress, let her hair down instead of pulling it back, and carried a canvas bag over one shoulder.
She walked toward what was probably a market or a group of stores at a slow pace, like someone who is used to running errands.
She didn't look up.
Mike drank all of his coffee.
He caught up with her on the way back.
He did not catch up with her on purpose, or at least that is what the timing would suggest to any observer. He was leaving the building just as she was coming back in.
This could have been a coincidence or the result of watching someone leave and figuring out when they would be back.
Mike would never say which one.
"Morning," she said, moving the bag on her shoulder.
"Good morning," Mike said.
He looked at the bag. "Do you need help with that?"
She said, "It's fine," without thinking.
After that, she looked at the bag. Then she looked at him again.
"It was really fine... the bag wasn't too heavy for me to carry. but thanks for asking."
She asked, "How are you settling in?" in a polite way, like a landlady would.
"The mattress I buy came this morning..."
"I'm officially sleeping like a real person again."
"Good to hear it~!" She almost laughed. "How did you sleep before?"
"A lot of different things actually." He said, "And... none of them are comfortable."
He said it in a way that made it clear he didn't want anyone to ask follow-up questions, and Petricia, who was skilled at reading people, didn't push.
She gave him that look again. She was the one who categorized him in a way she hadn't considered before.
"It's a pleasure to hear you're comfortable with my apartment room." She said, "Let me know if you need anything for the unit."
"Of course," Mike said. "You're the first person I've seen this morning."
"It's been a good start honestly."
She looked at him for one second longer than a landlady usually does when she checks on a new tenant. Then she said something about needing to get the groceries in before the butter got soft and went inside.
Mike saw the door close behind her.
[DESIRE LEVEL: 7/100]
He was starting to think that the notification that popped up on his phone screen without him even having to pull it out was the system's way of saying "good job."
"Seven," he thought. "Two points from a thirty-second talk in a doorway."
[DO NOT CELEBRATE. SEVEN IS STILL VERY EARLY.]
[OBSERVATION: SUBJECT HELD EYE CONTACT SLIGHTLY LONGER THAN BASELINE. INDICATES INVOLUNTARY INTEREST RESPONSE. SHE'S NOT THINKING ABOUT IT, BUT HER BRAIN IS.]
[THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT. KEEP GOING.]
...
At 12:30 PM, Gerald Schneider got home.
Mike was on his way to the laundry room when the front door opened and a man came in with a plastic bag. The man looked like he had been outside doing a few annoying things.
He was in his mid-forties, of average height, and had a little extra weight that some men carry around when they stop thinking about it. His face was nice enough, the kind of face that would probably be friendly in most situations.
He stopped walking when he saw Mike.
"Oh...?" He said, "A new tenant?"
"Unit six, sir," Mike said, and held out his hand. "It's nice to finally meet you; the name's Mike Hawk."
"Good to see you, Mike... I'm Gerald Schneider." Gerald shook hands firmly with it. "I take care of the maintenance here, so if something breaks, just call me anytime, son."
"Your wife talked about you." Mike said, "She said you're the one who really holds the place together."
When someone says something nice without any obvious reason, Gerald's face does what faces do. A small, almost shocked warmth.
"Huh," Gerald asked. "Did she really say that?"
"More or less."
What Petricia said wasn't true. She had told him that Gerald took care of repairs.
But the way Gerald reacted showed Mike exactly how big the difference was between what the man was told and what he wanted to hear.
"To be honest... she's the real engine around here," Gerald said, sounding like he meant it but also like he hadn't said it directly to her in a while. "What I do is only fix the pipes."
"Well," Mike said, "I respect a man who fixes things."
"It takes a certain kind of patience."
Gerald laughed at that, and it was a real laugh that came out of nowhere. "You would think so."
"Most of the time, it's just searching the problem on the internet and hoping for the best."
"The most truthful thing anyone has ever said about fixing things at home."
Gerald laughed again, this time with greater ease, and Mike noticed the social dynamics unfolding before him. The new renter seemed friendly, and there was no particular reason to feel suspicious.
Gerald asked, "Are you settling in okay?"
"Almost there... and for me, it's a good unit to be lived in."
"Please let me know if the water pressure is low in the morning." Gerald said, "There's a problem with the main line in this area."
"I have a way around it."
"Understood."
Gerald moved his bag to his other hand. "Hey, since you're new to the area, I don't think you've found a place to hang out yet."
"Like a place to go at night or something?"
"Not yet." Mike said, "I've mostly stayed in the apartment."
Gerald nodded slowly, as if he were a man getting ready for something. "There's a casino about twenty minutes from here."
"It's not a big one and nothing fancy, just a local place. And I go there sometimes when I need to clear my head."
He spoke about it as if he were discussing a coffee shop. But the way he looked slightly inside the building before saying it made Mike think that this was the kind of thing Gerald talked about with other men but not with his wife.
"Gambling?" Mike asked.
"Welllll... it's not gambling or anything..." Gerald said, with the kind of confidence that comes from someone who is definitely gambling, "I mean it... don't snitch on me to my wife."
"It's not really gambling when you know what you're doing."
"Heh... yeah..." Mike's face stayed completely blank. "Of course."
"It's good for stress," Gerald said again. "There's always stress around here."
He said it with the ease of someone who had said it to himself many times before.
"I believe you," Mike said, but he meant something different than what Gerald probably heard. "Maybe I'll take a look."
"Good man." Gerald patted him on the shoulder once, as if he trusted him too quickly. "Come find me if you want to hang out."
"I usually go on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and sometimes on Saturdays."
Mike said, "I'll remember that."