The Omnistore System

Chapter 461  Dead husband

"Yeah, I like this one," Kevin said to the man who was casually dressed, sent by Viana to help him check out houses and fill him in on other details about living there. The place was nice, and Kevin felt good about it. n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

It was on the 13th floor of a 30-story building, with around five apartments like this per floor. The upper floors were a bit different, with only one larger apartment per floor, home to wealthier cultivators. Kevin wasn't too concerned about them—unless they were selling.

What sold him on this place was the layout: two spacious rooms, each with its own attached bathroom, plus a living area with an open kitchen, just like the setup he and his family had now, expect the rooms. "I hear a 'but' coming," the man named Chinka Marc said as he stepped out of one of the rooms, noticing Kevin's slightly troubled expression.

"Yeah, but it doesn't have enough security," Kevin admitted. "I've heard of some places where the whole floor can transform into a small aircraft or something like that."

Chinka chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not privy to all that high-tech stuff, Mr. Morison. I just manage a few properties for the Demitia family," he said with a smile. "But this place does have some security features: energy shields, qi formations for detecting intruders, and other standard measures."

Kevin knew all that, but still wasn't fully convinced. "It's just not secure enough for what I'm looking for," he said, pausing. "Wasn't there another property? I'd like to check that out before making a decision."

Kevin wouldn't have minded living in this place. It was cozy and had a similar vibe to the one he lived in now. Plus, upgrading the security himself wasn't out of the question, but that would be another hassle—one he really didn't want to deal with.

However, from the look on Chinka Marc's face, there seemed to be some issue with the other property. "Is there a problem with the other place, Mr. Marc?" Kevin asked, sensing some hesitation.

Chinka Marc hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck before sighing. "Well, there is a bit of a... situation with the other house."

Kevin raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain.

"The occupant of that house, her husband, was the one who actually put it on lease. The thing is... he passed away recently," Chinka said, his tone softening. "The wife, who still lives there, doesn't know yet. It's... complicated. Telling her husband is dead and then kicking her out would be uncomfortable, to say the least. What's worse, her husband was the only earner in the family, and they have a daughter who's studying at a school far away from the city. She's all alone."

Kevin frowned, letting that sink in. "That sounds rough."

"Exactly," Chinka continued. "It's not just about finding a new tenant. It would be a huge mess emotionally, legally... and morally, frankly. It's going to be troublesome for sure."

Kevin exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the situation. "That's... complicated. I guess that house is off the table then, huh?"

"Unless you want to go through the ordeal," Chinka said with a half-hearted chuckle. "But I wouldn't recommend it."

Kevin stared out the window, his mind wandering as he processed what Chinka had said. The situation with the other house weighed on him. He couldn't imagine what the woman and her daughter were going through. They had no idea their world was about to be turned upside down.

He crossed his arms and sighed, feeling a twinge of guilt for even considering the house now. But at the same time, he couldn't help but weigh the options. The place had everything he needed—security, space, and a prime location. It was perfect, except for the painful situation surrounding it.

Kevin glanced at Chinka with a serious, almost mischievous look and asked, "Is the wife hot?"

Chinka was caught off guard for a moment, staring at Kevin before regaining his composure. With a smirk forming, he nodded. "She used to be a model before she got married, so yeah, you can imagine how hot she is."

"So, she's hot?" Kevin asked again, wanting confirmation.

Chinka chuckled and nodded. "Definitely. So... interested in checking it out?"

Kevin thought about it for a moment. He could charm her easily enough, and even though some might see it as morally wrong to go after a new widow, he didn't care much about that. He'd still do it, as long as he could find a way to avoid hurting her. "Tell me everything you know about her and her husband while you guide me to the house."

Chinka didn't mind at all. It was his job to show Kevin around, and if Kevin wanted to buy the house he was managing, that was all that mattered. How he did it wasn't Chinka's concern. As a non-cultivator, he knew better than to meddle in a cultivator's affairs.

Chinka began explaining, "The husband's name was James. He was a young alchemist, around 40 years old..."

Kevin's eyebrows shot up, not because 40 was considered young in the cultivation world, but because the name rang a bell. He realized he knew James—he was Kevin's first ever customer.

Kevin hadn't known things had gotten that bad for him, rough enough that he had to lease his home. "Do you have a picture of the husband?" Kevin asked, curious to confirm.

"Yeah, here..." Chinka said, showing Kevin a picture. Sure enough, it was James.

Kevin's curiosity piqued, so he asked, "How did he die?"

"I'm not sure, let me check..." Chinka replied, as he swiped through some documents. After a moment, he added, "It says here he died at Chernobog's Den from a beast attack, but there are some speculations it might've been murder or something like that. The news isn't public yet, but Miss Keyara found out through some connections."

Kevin nodded, processing the information. Chernobog's Den was becoming more dangerous, just as he had suspected. This news only reinforced his belief that something bigger was going on there. 'There must be something deeper happening,' Kevin thought. He'd get more answers when Keith returned. Until then, he needed to figure out how to charm the newly widowed woman.