The Mesmerizing Man

Chapter 6

Jack Thompson was taken aback by the question.

Asking who he was before knocking? Could it be a thief trying to case the joint?

He instinctively went to close the door, but the other man was quicker, sticking his foot in the way.

"Who are you?" the man pushed the door open forcefully and walked straight in, his eyes shifting from Jack Thompson to somewhere behind him. "Michael Carter?"

The overpowering smell of alcohol made Jack Thompson shrink back his neck. At the same time, he realized the man was looking for Michael Carter.

Maybe he's drunk and got the wrong door?

Jack Thompson opened his mouth to speak, but the man had already unceremoniously walked into the house without even taking off his shoes.

"Michael Carter, Michael Carter," the man shouted as he walked.

Jack Thompson hurried forward. "No, that..."

Before he could finish, the man plopped down on the sofa and slumped forward, his head dropping down.

Even more bizarre, Jack Thompson noticed the man had a plastic bag hooked on his left hand. As he fell, the bag dropped to the floor, spilling some liquid. A meaty aroma wafted up, smelling like congee.

The sudden turn of events left Jack Thompson at a loss. He stood by the sofa, twisting the corner of his shirt, looking at the unconscious man. He craned his neck and called out softly, "Hey... can you hear me?"

After about half a minute, making sure there was no response, he finally bit his lip lightly and ran out to stand at Michael Carter's door.

That man had called out Michael Carter's name, hadn't he? He must have heard correctly. So he must be Michael Carter's friend? Even if not, they must at least know each other.

So, he must be looking for Michael Carter.

However, thinking was one thing, actually raising his hand to knock was another. He hesitated.

Did he really hear correctly? The man was drunk, his words slurred. What if he heard wrong and troubled Michael Carter for nothing?

Right, to be safe, he should just call the police.

He stood at Michael Carter's door, took out his phone, and prepared to dial.

At that moment, the door slowly opened, revealing Michael Carter's tall figure. Michael Carter reached out, his hand enveloping Jack Thompson's hand and phone.

"What are you doing?" Michael Carter asked, noticing that Jack Thompson was barefoot. He frowned, loosened his grip, and turned back into the house.

Jack Thompson snapped out of his daze and tiptoed inside. "That... need... need your help."

Michael Carter didn't respond, but quickly grabbed a pair of slippers and tossed them on the floor. "Put these on."

Jack Thompson was confused. He was here to ask Michael Carter for help, why did he need to wear slippers?

It wasn't until his gaze fell on his own bare feet that he realized he had been in such a hurry to open the door that he hadn't put on any shoes. Now he was standing barefoot on the mottled concrete floor.

A strange feeling welled up from the bottom of his heart. Why was Michael Carter so thoughtful, so kind to him?

Staring at the shoes on the floor, he had completely forgotten why he had come.

Seeing that Jack Thompson hadn't moved for a long time, Michael Carter pulled him aside impatiently, clearing the way.

"What is it?" Michael Carter asked, though he was already walking towards Jack Thompson's house.

Jack Thompson came back to his senses, hurriedly put on the slippers, and rushed to catch up. "There's someone, someone, I don't know if you know him, he's on my sofa, he called your name..."

As he explained incoherently, Michael Carter walked straight into his house and flipped the light switch on the wall.

The dim room instantly lit up. Jack Thompson, who was following behind, was not used to it. To save on electricity bills, he never turned on the main light even when it was completely dark. Now, the sudden brightness was somewhat dazzling.

What was even more unbearable was the aroma of porridge that had filled most of the room. His stomach started growling again.

He couldn't be blamed, after all, he had slept until almost dark.

Michael Carter walked straight to the sofa and raised his foot to step on the man on it. "William Brown, get up."

However, William Brown on the sofa didn't respond.

Michael Carter called out a few more times, only to be met with the drunken mumbles typical of a drunkard.

Just as Jack Thompson walked over to inquire, Michael Carter suddenly slapped William Brown's face.

"Ah..." Jack Thompson covered his mouth in surprise, watching as William Brown opened his eyes in a daze as if he had a nightmare. He looked around without focus, then closed his eyes again and continued to sleep.

After making sure that William Brown was really asleep, Michael Carter moved his foot away, glanced at the porridge that had been knocked over, and clicked his tongue. He turned to Jack Thompson, who was still in shock, and said, "Broom, mop."

Jack Thompson was still covering his mouth, not reacting to what Michael Carter was saying for a moment.

It wasn't until Michael Carter walked over and dragged him into the kitchen that he snapped out of it.

Even then, Michael Carter didn't forget to look back at the living room. He took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, gave it a light shake, and a cigarette popped out.

He bit down on the filter, felt his pocket again, and found that he didn't have a lighter. He could only look at the familiar stove again.

After lighting the cigarette, he turned on the range hood.

The buzzing of the old range hood was a bit too loud in the quiet room. He gestured to Jack Thompson with his cigarette hand. "Come here."

Michael Carter's voice was a bit muffled under the loud noise, but Jack Thompson obediently walked over.

The hand holding the cigarette rested on his shoulder, pulling him closer. Then, lips smelling of smoke came close to his ear.

"I'll move some things over later. When the guy on the sofa wakes up, just say I live here, that we're roommates." It wasn't a question, but an order.

Jack Thompson was even more confused, even feeling a hint of fear.

Even if Michael Carter had shown him some small kindnesses, it didn't make sense for him to move in.

Jack Thompson frowned unconsciously. Right, he had to refuse.

But the next second, Michael Carter said, "Don't worry, I'm not really moving in. Just do me a favor, I'll still pay you rent as usual."

Those words threw Jack Thompson into a whirlpool of** again. He clutched his pants, staring at the slippers on his feet.

He really needed the money now, because he wanted to live. And one of the reasons he wanted to live had something to do with Michael Carter.

Besides, he was a nobody, what was there to worry about?

After a long silence, Jack Thompson finally asked, "How... how much..."

The answer caught Michael Carter off guard. He thought the other party would at least refuse or ask for a reason.

But it also made him feel that Jack Thompson was unusual.

He took a drag of his cigarette and deliberately exhaled at Jack Thompson. Seeing Jack Thompson coughing from the smoke, he continued, "Give me your phone."

Jack Thompson handed over his phone. Michael Carter took it and entered his own number. "I'll come over in advance if someone's looking for me. If I'm not here and someone comes, call me. No matter who asks, tell them we're roommates. And don't tell anyone I live next door."

"I'll give you 600 a month, okay?" Michael Carter handed the phone back, but the moment Jack Thompson took it, he grabbed his hand, grinned, and pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket and stuffed it into his hand. "Tomorrow, get an ashtray."

Michael Carter put out the half-smoked cigarette in his hand, threw it into the trash can, turned off the range hood, and walked out with the rag from the stove and the broom from the floor.

The noise suddenly disappeared, and the room fell silent again.

Jack Thompson clutched the money in his hand, his heart beating unbelievably fast.

This should be the first time he had earned money, right? But he wasn't stupid. In this era of online payment, Michael Carter actually had 600 yuan in cash in his pocket. Didn't that mean it was prepared in advance? But he didn't think further, because with this money, he seemed to be able to hold on for a while longer.

Moreover, he had the contact information of a stranger other than his father.

This had a very different meaning to him.

Michael Carter quickly cleaned up the garbage in the living room and then slapped William Brown on the head again.

"William Brown, get up."

William Brown groaned in a daze and was pulled up by Michael Carter. "Huh? Michael Carter? Where... where am I?"

Michael Carter's face was full of impatience. He pulled William Brown's clothes again, making him stand up. "This is my house. What couldn't you say on the phone? You had to come all the way here?"

"Ugh..." William Brown patted his head. "Oh, right... heard you were hospitalized... James Anderson asked me to come see you, bring you..."

William Brown suddenly sobered up a lot, looking at his empty hands. "s**t, where's the porridge..."

"Idiot..." Michael Carter rolled his eyes and pulled William Brown's clothes again. "Alright, now that you've seen me, you can go. I need to rest."

William Brown stood up unsteadily. "Ouch, I'm drunk... can't I stay here?"

"No, get out."

"Tsk..."

At this moment, William Brown noticed Jack Thompson standing there in a daze. He staggered over and put his arm around Jack Thompson's shoulder, pulling him close. "Hey... who... who's this?"

Michael Carter was quick to react, pulling Jack Thompson to his side and glaring at William Brown. "He's my roommate. I told you to leave if you have nothing else to do. Don't cause trouble."

William Brown's face also showed displeasure and was about to say something when his phone suddenly rang.

He hummed a few times and said to Michael Carter with a yawn, "James Anderson is looking for you."

At this time, Jack Thompson felt Michael Carter's grip on his hand tighten, and it seemed like he was stuffing something into his hand. It was hard and cold, and its shape felt like a key.

"Got it." Michael Carter let go of his hand and looked down at Jack Thompson. "Don't wait up for me tonight. Be good and go to bed early."

Michael Carter's expression was very serious, making Jack Thompson inexplicably nervous. He could only nod subconsciously.

Then, Michael Carter walked out the door with William Brown.

"Aren't you going to change your shoes?" William Brown stopped at the door and asked, looking at the slippers on Michael Carter's feet.

However, Michael Carter ignored him, picked up the garbage by the door, opened the door, and walked out.

William Brown chuckled, turned to look at Jack Thompson with a strange smile, and followed him out the door.

The house fell silent again, and the smell of food in the air was almost gone. Before Jack Thompson could recover from the series of events, he received a message from Michael Carter.

[Quick, go to my place and get some necessities. Put them away, then go out for dinner. Don't come back before twelve. Wait for me at the supermarket.]

Jack Thompson's heart, which had just settled down, was lifted again. What did this mean?