[Hyde POV]
Next morning. I got out of my room and saw all of my friends watching tv in the basement, except for Jackie.
"Hyde, you're late. My dad already went to work 20 minutes ago." Donna scolded me.
I yawned and said lazily, "I went to restock his bulbs last night at 3 am. So I think I'm good if I'm a few minutes late."
Now that I had a lot of money, I lost the motivation to continue my sales job. Today would be my last day anyway.
"It's Sunday, and you have to work." Micheal laughed at me. "You're a total corporate tool right now. You're so lame."
Everyone laughed. I muttered, "Well I got a check yesterday. I thought about bringing you guys somewhere, but that's out of the window now."
"What?! Whyyy?!" Kelso asked, fully dumbfounded. Well, he was just dumb.
"Because you just insulted him, you moron." Donna scolded Kelso.
Eric laughed and turned to me, asking, "What's in your hand?"
" A catalogue." I gave the print out to Donna. It has all of the potential sofas from Ikea I wanted Victoria to pick from. And some rendition of how her house would look like with AI after all of the decorations.
It has wallpapers, peel and stick backsplash tiles, the stove vent, and many more.
"Hyde. This looks really expensive." Donna was shocked.
I yawned and said, "Tell Victoria just to pick what she wants. I'll get it and make sure it's within the budget she gave me."
"Whoa." Donna exclaimed, her eyes full of admiration. "You suddenly look so sexy Hyde."
"Hey." Eric was flabbergasted when he heard it.
I smirked and played along, "Don't I know it?" which pissed off Eric more.
"There must be 50 pages on there." Fez commented as he grabbed the papers from Donna. "You have worked really hard for your lover."
"Tell her to pick today. The apartment can be furnished next week." I casually, not even trying to correct Fez since it would only make them more excited in teasing.
I walked past Kelso's dirty van on the way to my car.
"Suddenly, I want to paint the van." I mumbled. I remembered Kelso's first van would fall into a lake, so it didn't matter what I did to the van.
"A space monkey would be nice. Wait, this is the 70s. Which country sent the monkey to space again? If I accidentally make a pro-Russia artwork, I might get beat up and be accused as a spy."
The Cold War paranoia was still ongoing. In fact, the Cold War was still happening. It wasn't till 1991 with the fall of the USSR that it stopped.
I checked online, and the countries that sent the monkeys were the U.S and France. Russia sent dogs to space.
"Alright. Astronaut chimp it is." I decided with a grin after seeing the image of the monkey in a spacesuit.
"Wait." My eyes flickered, and I took a deep breath to cover my excitement.
"I should paint Jackie on it. That way, it will burn Kelso."
…
The rush from the clearance sales and the bulbs made my day go by so fast.
It was already lunch time now. I decided to step out of the store and go to the dealership to check on some cars with flipping potential.
However, as I was checking out the junkyard and the used car lot, I began to wonder, "Why are most of the cars rusty?"
I checked for the facts again online, and found out it was because we were living in the Salt belt.
Salt+ Winter region made the cars here get rusty quicker.
GPT told me the best state to buy a car for flipping was from a hot state, such as Arizona, Florida, or California.
"So I can't depend on the used car lot. Wait, is this why my Nova was sold pretty cheaply even though it's just 3 years old? Because of the rust?"
I solved one of the mysteries that has been bugging me.
While wandering, a shape in the back row caught my eye—a rounded blue curve half-hidden behind a row of junkers.
A 1971 Volkswagen Beetle.
I walked around it. The paint was faded to a dull sky blue, but the body lines were surprisingly straight. I knelt and ran a finger along the running boards.
"…Huh. Surface rust only. Nothing's punched through."
The salesman jogged over. "You like that one? The owner traded it in last week."
"Why'd he dump it?" I asked, opening the rear engine lid.
"Overheating." He replied sleazily. I knew he wasn't going to tell me everything.
Old Beetles run air-cooled engines. If the cooling shroud cracks or the fan belt's worn, they heat up and scare the hell outta people. Most folks don't wanna deal with it. They just ditch them.
I peered closer. "So the engine's fine, just overheats?"
"Pretty much. These things're simple."
"How much?"
"Four hundred bucks."
I paused and looked at him with disbelief. "Are you kidding me, 400 bucks for this junk? It will cost me hundreds of dollars in repairs if I want to use it."
"Alright. Then, 200 bucks." The salesman changed his tune immediately.
When the salesman stepped away to grab keys for someone else, I waited for the row to clear, placed my hand on the Beetle, and whispered, "System, store item."
The car vanished silently. I peeked at the system description.
[Stored Item]
{1971 Volkswagen Beetle – Sky Blue (Faded paint. Chipping)
Mileage: 22,412
Condition: Body clean, minor surface rust
Primary Issue: Overheating from worn fan belt.
Secondary Notes: Interior intact, carbs slightly dirty}
I grinned and took the car back out in less than 5 seconds of me putting it in the system. "Perfect."
'Fixing this would cost me what—fiveteen bucks?'
A fan belt in 1977 was practically pocket change, and I could clean the carbs myself with one of those dollar kits online.
Once I gave it a new coat of paint and polished the chrome, a clean '67 Beetle could easily pull over a thousand dollars. I saw one in good shape in the classified section in the newspaper for 1700.
I bought the car, but I drove it into an alley. I stored it in one of my slots and took my Nova back out.
For convenience, I placed my Nova inside the storage system in the same alley and walked to the used car shop before.
My lunch time was over, so I rushed back to Bob's store. After selling the appliances for 5 more hours, Bob announced the clearance sale was over, and the store was closed.
I managed to sell Bob 2000 more of those bulbs. So I gained an extra 2600.
I placed 3000 bucks into my bank account yesterday before lunch. The bank was closed on Sunday so I have to be prepared. It was a good thing since I spent most of it as the cost for the bulbs.
I have 8700 in cash right now.
"Hyde. You're quitting, right?" Bob asked with a pitiful smile.
I nodded and said, "Yeah. I'm quitting."
He sighed and took out some cash. "You sold 8000 dollars worth of stuff in two days. Your commission is 400 dollars. And 50 bucks extra for the hours."
"50?" I was touched. For two days, I should only get around 30 bucks. But Bob gave me extra.
"I'll open up a spot for you if you want to come back." Bob said proudly as he grabbed my shoulder.
I smiled and said, "Sure. Thanks Bob."
But I didn't want to come back. What I wanted to do was to be a boss instead of being a worker. And Bob's store wasn't stable. His high cost would make his store susceptible if any big superstore opens in town.
I stretched my back as I was done with my work. The store phone rang, and I picked it up.
The person on the other side, "Hello. Can I speak to Steven Hyde?"
"Speaking. Who is this?" I replied, thinking it was Kelso.
"My name is Bent." He said.
I grimaced and replied, "Bend Dover? Are you a child?"
"No. My actual name is Bent." He clarified, slightly embarrassed.
"Oh. Sorry about that. Some kids were pranking the store before. I thought you were one of them."
"It's fine. Don't worry about it. Listen, I'm from Bent Backward Butcher Shop. I saw your name as the one who designed the flyers? Are you open for hiring?"
I smirked and said, "I'm so open for it."
"Good. Cause I saw the people coming to Bob's store. I know Bob. He can't do something like that. Should we meet up tomorrow? At noon?"
I would be at school, but I could easily get out early with my own permission slip. I usually got that permission slip by jumping over the school wall at lunch time.
"Alright. I'll see you at noon. I'll come to your shop and meet you there."
I told Charlie to give anyone who asked about me the Forman's house number. Red would be home most of the time anyway since he was out of work, so I could use him.
As I cruised the road in my Nova, I stopped at a traffic light and saw some students from my school on the street. Some waved at me and giggled.
I didn't care about them and drove straight to Victoria's house.
She opened the door wearing a conservative style dress floral button down and vest. She paired it up with long pants too.
"Steven. Did you just get out of work? Are you hungry? I've cooked some roasted chicken for you." Victoria said sweetly, pulling me inside the house.
I glanced at the fridge on my way to the kitchen and smiled. "Oh. So Kelso and Forman have picked up your fridge?"
"Yeah. Eric almost broke his back carrying it," she giggled teasingly. "He's so thin."
I laughed at her jab.
"Although… Micheal tried to hit on me a little bit," she added, her eyes flickering with annoyance.
I nodded in understanding. "I'll deal with him. He's slightly brain damaged from getting dropped on his head as a baby, but he does learn consequences through corporal punishment."
Victoria froze. "Corporal punishment? You're going to hit him?"
"What's the fun in that? What I'm going to do is give him a permanent reminder—by sketching something on his van."
She giggled. "What do you plan to do?"
"Just wait and see. Also, tell Jackie about it. She's going to make his life a living hell if she knew. But don't do it directly—make it sound like a joke."
"Oh. I know what you mean," Victoria said with a sly grin. "Like pretend to be thankful, recount what happened casually, and treat it like a joke—but she'll piece it together herself."
My face froze for a moment, then a malicious grin crept across it. "You're returning to your original form. I'm loving this."
Victoria just giggled and shyly fixed her hair. "How… how's the chicken?" she asked.
"It's good. Even better if we can eat it on an actual table," I replied.
We ended up eating on the couch with paper plates. Victoria had picked up several pots from the farmhouse but hadn't taken anything she didn't buy. They hadn't even had a real wedding, so she hadn't received any gifts either. Poor girl.
"I like this couch," she said, pointing at the Ikea sofa image we had chosen for her apartment.
"You need a TV," I mumbled, glancing around her rather plain living space. "I'll be back in a few."
"Wait, Steven, you don't have to buy me a TV," she gasped, feeling guilty.
I shook my head. "No. I'm not buying you one."
"Then where are you going to get it?" she asked.
"A pawn shop," I replied easily. I had pawned my mom's color TV months ago to get food after she abandoned me.
The pawn shop guy had only given me fifty bucks for it, though used TVs could sell for around three hundred, and new ones for six to a thousand.
I parked the Nova in front of Mackey's Pawn & Loan—the same place I dragged Mom's TV months ago. It stayed open till midnight every day and sat in the sketchy part of town where I usually hung out.
"Sorry. I sold that a long time ago," the owner said, puffing on a cigarette.
"What? Shouldn't you keep it until I came back?" I asked, slightly surprised.
The mustached, bald man shook his head. "Not really. If you don't redeem it in a month—or pay interest to keep ownership—it becomes mine."
"Oh, damn. Alright then." I accepted it easily. The guy never asked where I got the stuff; I'd been selling my shoplifted finds to him for years.
"I've got a new set if you want. Seventy-five bucks," he offered.
I raised my eyebrows. "How big?"
"Fifteen inches."
I grimaced. "My mom's TV is twenty inches, and you gave me fifty bucks for it."
He grinned. "That's just business, kid. You want it or not?"
"It's a color TV, right?" I asked.
"Yup," he said lazily, showing me the unit. As he plugged in the tube, the image flickered, and the colors were washed.
"Never mind," I snorted and left the shop. My hand brushed the LP player beside me, and it disappeared.
A problem. Where could I find a TV now… like I stole the LP player?
I wanted to see if I could store stolen items in the system. It let me keep cars for instant reference, but what about other stolen objects? I didn't know yet.
I tested it with the LP player. The system didn't chime. It didn't care what I did with the items I stored.
Too bad all the stores were closed now. Wisconsin allowed corporate retail to stay open Sundays until six, but small businesses didn't bother to follow it.
I returned to Victoria, disappointed. "Sorry, it was already sold."
"Th-that's fine. It's fine. Really," she comforted me, having changed into more comfortable clothes. A slightly sexy nightie I had seen before when visiting her farmhouse.
"You should go back home and get some rest," she yawned.
I looked at her incredulously. "It's not even seven. You're already sleepy?"
"I can't help it. My body is trained to sleep at sundown now," she said. "Also, the mattress is so good."
I leaned against the front doorframe, satisfied. I had bought her the same mattress I used myself.
She wanted to keep the bedframe but replace the old, dingy mattress, which I got for her cheaply. Otherwise, it would have cost hundreds to get a decent one.
"I'll try to find you a new TV tomorrow. And I'll come after school with your stuff so we can start transforming the apartment." I said casually and patted her head. "So have a good night's sleep today. We'll start to get busy tomorrow."
She blushed a bit and avoided her gaze shyly. She stood on tiptoe and kissed me on the cheek. "Goodnight Steven." She said sweetly.
"Goodnight Victoria. Oh, and don't forget to call Jackie before you go to sleep."
"I already did." Victoria smirked.
…
In the basement.
"So you kissed her," Fez teased and made some kissing sounds. Kelso laughed and said, "Man. I almost got Victoria to fall for me if Eric didn't ruin it."
Eric looked at him with disbelief and said, "Man. you dug your own grave."
"What– OW!"
I punched Micheal in the arm as he turned to Forman.
"That hurts." He shouted.
"It will hurt even more in a few minutes." I smirked.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Micheal was slightly alarmed.
Jackie opened the basement door abruptly and yelled, "MICHAEL! YOU DOG! YOU DIRTY DIRTY DOG!" She grabbed him by his ear and dragged him out of the basement while he screamed in pain.
"What did you do?" Eric asked me.
"I didn't do anything. Victoria did." I smiled. Eric and Fez laughed at Kelso's misery.
I wasn't done. That night, I saw my chance. Kelso had left with Jackie, leaving his van unattended in Eric's driveway. I seized it and brought it inside the garage.
I covered the garage with a plastic sheet and got to work.
Sipping my third Monster energy of the night, I sat down on a small stool as I painted Jackie's hair.
I didn't reach for spray cans cause I was an amateur. Instead, I pulled out brushes and small Rust-Oleum paint cans.
I had wanted to do it properly at first. Sand everything down, treat the rust, prime it, and then paint it in a clean two-tone finish.
But since Kelso had pissed me off, I opted for a little more chaos. Jackie's face, graffiti-style, across the side panel.
The transparent system panel made everything easier. I projected Jackie's portrait onto the van door, traced it carefully with a pencil, and then went over it with paint.
Every stroke was my own—no build mode shortcuts. Step by step, the image came to life. By the time I stepped back, it looked surprisingly good, almost like an oil portrait, perfectly capturing Jackie's expression on the side of Kelso's van.
She looked quite pissed off. Her eyes screamed murder. I did a dialogue bubble coming from her mouth that said, "Micheal You Dirty Dirty Dog."
Lastly, I used an aerosol spray coat on it so it seals the artwork.
I yawned and realized the sun was almost up. So I went to clean myself up.
"I'll just sleep in school." I mumbled tiredly. Although I said that, I passed out on my bed after I took off my shirt to get in the shower.
An hour later, Eric called me urgently.
"Hyde! Wake up! Why am I being your alarm clock nowadays?"
He complained, which made me grimace.
"Come on! We have 10 minutes. Or we will be late!" He said frantically.
"Forman, just go without me." I pulled the blanket and tried to sleep, but Red entered my room.
He pulled the blanket and said loudly, "RISE AND SHINE Screwhead! Don't be late for school, or even try to stay home. Or else, my foot won't be late getting to your ass!"
I sighed in defeat and went to get cleaned up. I wore a simple Uniqlo shirt and a winter coat. A padded, plush lapel coat with full front zip, has a checkerboard black and white pattern on it.
I paired it up with a silver chain and black jeans. I also wore thick socks and my boots as the weather was really cold this morning.
"Steven Honey. You're not in your room last night." Mrs Forman said nervously as I entered the kitchen.
Red looked at me with murderous eyes. "That's it. You're grounded–"
(Read up to chapter 66 on my patreon.
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