Agreed

Early in the morning, Leon (he'd be called Leon from here on) woke up from his rather uncomfortable bed and picked up the red panda alarm clock from the bedside table.

"Still half an hour until seven."

As a rigorous man, Leon didn't allow himself to make mistakes in his plans!

So he flopped back down and went to sleep again.

At eight-thirty, he was truly awake this time.

"My status in the Back-to-Sleep Cult must've risen quite a bit again!"

Congratulations, Coca-Cola!

Yawning, he went to wash up. It couldn't be helped—he'd overworked himself last night.

Don't misunderstand. It wasn't anything messy; cleaning up the scene (meaning looting the property) had simply been troublesome.

Leon lived in a very ordinary local house. It was rented.

No lawn, no garage, no pretty roof or trees. There was nothing, and it was nothing!

The interior decoration was even simpler. It could be described in four words: no decoration whatsoever.

One room, one bed, one sofa, one table and chairs, and one cup of coffee.

Oh, and some daily necessities left behind by the original owner. Such as a cute alarm clock and a towel whose pattern changed when it touched hot water. Leon Collins, a man who possessed not only rigor but also an innate sense of righteousness, naturally threw the towel away.

Who knew what the original owner had done to it!

As for why he didn't move somewhere else—he had no money!

The original owner had been a man with nothing: no education, no job, no family.

When Leon had first arrived in this body, he smelled alcohol all over himself before he'd even opened his eyes. Later, while cleaning up the bottles, he'd roughly figured out what had happened.

There wasn't even a single group photo in the house. After searching everywhere, he'd found a little over two hundred dollars in cash...

"Not bad," Leon comforted himself. "Much better than being in debt." (Stop scolding me!)

After getting dressed, Leon studied his current appearance carefully in the mirror: a thin, frail body and a pale face. His height only made him look even more like the wind could blow him over.

"When it comes to being handsome, I'm more than one level below my original self!"

Rubbing the soft fuzz on his chin, Leon felt that, all things considered, he'd definitely come out ahead. "Nineteen years old—I got seven or eight years back for free!"

What did rejuvenation mean, huh!? (Tactical lean-back.)

Denim jacket, jeans, sneakers. Simplicity was beauty. More importantly, he didn't have any other clothes.

In America, nineteen was a very magical age. You could join the military, but you couldn't get married. You could buy a gun, but you couldn't drink alcohol.

The former showed that wives were harder to deal with than enemies! The latter fully demonstrated that alcohol, that evil thing, was far more harmful to humanity than rat-a-tat-tat!

Therefore.

Reject sauce-flavored technology, starting with you and me!

After leaving the house to find something to eat, Leon faced what had been his greatest difficulty these past few days.

As someone from a nation of great food lovers, he could endure anything else, but being without all kinds of delicious food was truly miserable.

It was either bread or milk, eggs, or salad. If he wanted a bowl of soy milk, he had to go all the way to Chinatown in the next district!

It wasn't that he hadn't considered cooking for himself. The first problem was that he didn't even have a pot!

He'd endure for one more day!

Just one day!

Leon decided that today, he would buy a pot! Still, breakfast had to be eaten. Even if he bought a pot, it would only be for dinner~

Besides, his current body was far too skinny and weak.

Pushing open the door, Leon first greeted the owner, who was wiping tables in the restaurant. "Good morning, beautiful lady!"

This was a small Mexican-style restaurant, specializing in "authentic Mexican stuffed pastries," though Leon had no idea whether they were actually authentic.

The owner—or rather, the proprietress—was named Santis. She ran the small restaurant with her son and daughter. Leon had come here for breakfast every day over the past few days, and since he'd become much sweeter with his words than before, they gradually became familiar with each other.

They were neighbors in the same block to begin with. It was just that the original Leon had always seemed lonely and unwilling to interact with others. Santis had even worried about this child, who was around the same age as her son.

"Aisha, go serve him," Auntie Santis called toward the kitchen after smiling at Leon.

"What do you want?"

Aisha Gonzalez, Auntie Santis's daughter, had been born with the makings of a model—below her neck was nothing but legs. Combined with her pretty face and decent personality, she was widely recognized as a goddess-tier beauty in several nearby blocks.

She was just a little cold in personality. Of course, that might have been because she wasn't familiar with Leon.

"Warm up a crate of wine, and bring me four carts of fennel beans." Leon immediately went for an enhanced version of Kong Yiji!

Rolling her eyes at Leon, Aisha had known from the start that this guy, who had suddenly changed his ways, wouldn't say anything useful.

"One regular set meal!"

Aisha tapped the table with her knuckles, gave him a look that said, I've got my own plan, wiped her hands on her apron, and returned to the kitchen.

Leon wasn't angry. He'd planned to eat whatever anyway.

Looking past the bar and the kitchen doorway, he saw Aisha moving seasonings from the top of a cabinet. Leon couldn't help but sigh inwardly. As expected of someone from South America—look at that cabinet, so long... No! Look at those seasonings, so straight!

When he turned back, Auntie Santis was looking at him with a cheerful smile. Leon laughed awkwardly and lowered his head as if nothing had happened.

Very quickly!

The food was brought out, and Aisha untied her apron and casually sat down across from Leon.

"Do you think I'd steal your food?" Aisha explained in response to Leon's strange look.

"Not that." Leon shrugged and used the chopsticks specially prepared for him to pick up a local snack that looked like a miniature steamed bun. "It's just, is it really okay for you to slack off like this?"

After just one sentence, Aisha was already lying sideways on her seat, with only her voice and long legs sticking out. "Relax. At this hour, you're the only one who comes here for breakfast."

Leon turned and looked around. Yep, it was true!

Although a beautiful woman was lying across from him, she was under the table and he couldn't see her anyway. Leon obediently ate his food. Not bad—the sour and spicy corn-dough buns...

Had a unique flavor!

Don't ask. It's a specialty!

Full from food and drink (?), Leon wiped his mouth with satisfaction. "There weren't any fennel beans, but this was indeed good food. Your mother's cooking is excellent."

"Why can't it be something I made?"

A voice came from across the table again.

"And what exactly are fennel beans?"

It seemed that ordering fennel beans for several days in a row had been a bit excessive. This girl genuinely seemed to want to know what they were now.

"It's a local specialty snack from where I'm from." Actually, Leon had no idea what fennel beans were either. He figured they were probably something like five-spice peanuts.

"I'll treat you to some if I get the chance."

Leaving cash on the table, Leon stood up, ready to leave.

"Are you going to agree to them?"

Agree?

Who?

What?

Me?

Leon turned around and stared at the long-legged girl, who had sat upright with a serious expression, asking the question from the depths of his soul.

"What are you saying?"

Guess who Aisha's prototype is.