Finding a House

The Kryptonian who had crossed over to this new world thought his standards for finding a place to live were nonexistent—anything habitable would do. But when he actually started looking seriously, every single room had flaws that Henry simply couldn't tolerate.

Then again, if those flaws weren't there, these seemingly decent apartments wouldn't have ended up in Fabio's hands.

In the Los Angeles rental agency circle, Fabio was only middle-to-lower tier. Perfect for young kids with nothing who came to Hollywood chasing star dreams.

But for someone like Henry, who had a bit of money and a secret that could cause unnecessary trouble, he'd say he wasn't picky, yet everywhere he looked, everything had flaws. It had a bit of that later-day "fairy girl" dating vibe.

Luckily, Fabio had seen all kinds of people. To make money, running around more was normal. Over the next couple of days, he took Henry through every listing their company had that caught Henry's interest.

In the end, Henry picked an apartment building near a Portuguese-speaking neighborhood. It wasn't a high-end complex, but at least the nearby streets didn't have people selling drugs or selling themselves.

Still, with minority groups clustered together, to outsiders the safety was only so-so. Unless you were part of the same group, looking out for each other would naturally boost the security level.

The landlord lived on the first floor and personally managed the whole building. Every new tenant had to pass his inspection. If the landlord wasn't satisfied, there was no way to rent even if you wanted to.

Though the building was near the Portuguese-speaking neighborhood, the landlord wasn't an immigrant from Brazil. He came from a family that had lived there since Hollywood's rise.

But the family had dwindled. By the landlord's generation, he was the only one left living alone. He had a divorced wife, and the kids were with his mother.

To him, those immigrants were the outsiders. So he didn't restrict the apartment to any particular ethnic group or profession.

He just had to "like the look of you."

When Fabio first explained this, Henry thought it would be some difficult character. But when he arrived, it was a flamboyant, bald old man with lipstick and eyeshadow.

...He fully understood why the son would want to go with the mom.

His Kryptonian iron fist was itching again. So this wasn't the landlord picking tenants—it was whether the tenants could survive the landlord's natural selection.

"Gary, I'm here." The Italian guy warmly hugged the bald landlord.

The old man gave Henry a flirty look, leaving the newcomer stunned and questioning his life.

"Another young one comes to this dreamland. What kind of person are you? Chasing a star dream? Trying to fulfill the American Dream? Or just looking for opportunities in the big city?" The old man asked, dripping with flair.

Henry was ready—if the guy tried a cheek-to-cheek move, the righteous Kryptonian iron fist would strike at any moment.

But Old Gary had clear boundaries, and there was no predatory gleam in his eyes. It was just his own style, not an attempt to hook up with anyone.

Put another way, Gary was like someone who loved cosplay but didn't have a specific character to imitate.

Besides, visual kei bands might have originated in that perverted England, but America was heavily influenced too. If you could dress up as monsters and demons, who said you couldn't dress like a floozy...

In short, Old Gary gave off the vibe of someone who'd completely let loose after his wife and kids left. Though Henry didn't know yet whether the divorce was the cause or the result.

Since the guy asked, Henry wasn't rude enough not to answer. He said, "Mainly here to see what a big city is like, so I'll dabble in a bit of everything. If it disappoints me, I'll head back to Alaska."

That was the truth. Henry had no burning desire to live a flashy, decadent life in a big city.

After all, this was a Marvel Universe with Mutants and Captain America.

And according to Old John, he'd tried to join the Howling Commandos but didn't make the cut. So it was reasonable to suspect that werewolves, vampires, Frankenstein's monster, and mummies from the Howling Commandos were all real.

Who knew what other nasty things were lurking around? With his Kryptonian physique that powered up from yellow sunlight already existing, it wouldn't be surprising if some parentless Bruce Wayne popped up out of nowhere.

If it came to that, Henry would just slink back to Alaska. Using his Golden Dog Eyes to pan for gold, living a life of literally picking up money, he'd never starve.

"Hmm, Alaska." Gary circled Henry, sizing him up like he was appraising goods. He suddenly asked, "Are you from the West?"

The Red Empire to the west was in chaos. Anyone who could run chose to run, even if it meant going to their old rival's turf.

Truth be told, he himself could be tied to the Red Empire. But that was messy and hard to clarify. At least Henry didn't want to reveal he was actually an alien in this world. So he shook his head and said, "Just Alaska."

"Alright, just Alaska, huh. If you want to rent, come up and take a look." Gary stopped pressing and grabbed a big ring of keys from his waist, unlocked the stairwell door on the first floor, and walked in.

The Italian guy made a "please" gesture behind him, inviting Henry in, and said, "Don't worry, Mr. Gary is very friendly. He just has... unique hobbies."

You know, before I crossed over, I'd seen the Lightning King's divine power to eradicate all bad habits. With the motto of "fix it or cripple it," as long as you fried them into brain damage, they couldn't keep up any bad habits, right?

So Henry shrugged and said, "As long as he doesn't force me to do the same, I won't discriminate." I'm not the Lightning King, but I'm a pro at sending people to their next life.

And Henry was telling the truth. Compared to the future America, full of weirdos and political correctness at every turn, the crazies of this era were much milder.

Old Gary's place was a corner unit on the third floor, with windows on two sides. Small, but it had all the basic amenities: kitchen, fridge, bed, closet, bookshelf, desk, plus a bathroom and a washing machine.

All the furniture looked neat and clean, showing the occupant or manager took good care of it. It was move-in ready.

Old Gary stood by the door and said, "I believe Fabio already told you my terms. Let me emphasize the important ones: no pets. You can have friends over, but I don't welcome loud, thumping party music.

"Whether you get high or not, I don't care. But if you go crazy on drugs in my apartment and start causing trouble, I guarantee I'll kick you out to sleep on the street. Got it?"

"That's reasonable. I have no objections."

New book requesting follow-up reads, collections, and recommendations. Thank you~