Chapter 41: A Lucky Find?
Early the next day, Ethan walked into a real estate agency in San Francisco, seeking assistance in finding a new home.
His requirements were straightforward – no specific size preference, as long as it adhered to normal living habits. Geographically, he wanted it centered around Palo Alto, where Stanford was located, radiating outward.
To the north, bounded by Redwood City; to the south, stopping at Cupertino. To the east, extending at most to Sunnyvale. As for the west? Though the west side of Palo Alto boasted beautiful scenery with its mountains and waters, it was more of a testament to historical landmarks and nature reserves.
In fact, Ethan had been contemplating the idea of moving for quite some time. Living with Thomas and Linda was comfortable, but sharing a roof with them did pose some inconveniences.
Take the incident of staying up all night to create the Snake game motherboard, for instance. As a young person, Ethan sometimes clashed with Thomas and others in terms of sleep patterns. Also, Thomas's continuous socializing didn't align with their lifestyle. So, moving out to live independently was only a matter of time.
Regarding buying or renting, Ethan leaned towards the former, focusing on Silicon Valley. In a few years, property prices here would skyrocket annually. Buying a house in advance would be like seizing an opportunity.
Though the appreciation might not yield high returns, especially for a time-traveler, it was a low-cost, high-achievement move. Spending millions on a villa was common, but grabbing one for tens of thousands felt like a triumph.
While he considered moving, the distance wouldn't be significant. The Los Gatos where Linda and Thomas lived was the farthest, about twelve miles from Ethan's selected locations. A drive would take less than half an hour, making it convenient for gatherings, and in case of emergencies, a quick step on the gas pedal would suffice.
Perhaps due to the economic climate or the efficiency of handling money matters, Ethan placed an order on the 21st, and by the morning of the 23rd, a well-dressed real estate agent was already in front of him.
"Mr. Jones, based on your requirements, we've found three houses for you."
The young agent handed over the information to Ethan, smiling as he introduced each one.
"These three houses for sale are located in Palo Alto, Los Altos, and Cupertino."
"The largest one is in Los Altos, a lakeside villa with three floors, covering 5,400 square feet of living space. In addition, there's a basement of about 400 square feet and a garden parking space of nearly 800 square feet. The listed price is $120,000."
"The second-largest house, located in Palo Alto, is a two-story building with no basement or garden. However, it has a 620-square-foot garage on the ground floor, and the total living area on the second floor is 200 square feet larger than the garage. The price is $100,000."
"The smallest house among the three is in Cupertino, a single-family residence. It has a living area of 1,700 square feet, a garage of 440 square feet, and a storage room of less than 200 square feet. Due to its smaller size, it's also the cheapest, at $70,000."
As the white agent meticulously introduced the houses, Ethan took the opportunity to learn about each one. Meanwhile, Mr. Foster, who had joined the scene to satisfy his curiosity, became quite enthusiastic.
Inspecting the documents, he asked, "Wait a minute, brother. You just mentioned the Palo Alto house's living area should only be 2,260 square feet, right? Compared to the Los Altos house, it's only half the size. Why isn't the price halved? It's just $2,000 less."
The agent answered with a smile, "Sir, the explanation is quite simple. The Palo Alto villa is right next to Stanford, and it's close to HP as well."
He further explained, "Houses in that area are highly sought after. Once one is available, it quickly gets snapped up by HP engineers or Stanford professors. So, setting a higher price is quite normal."
"Oh," Frank understood, "it's a rip-off."
The agent's expression stiffened, choosing not to respond.
Ethan, on the other hand, saw no issue. After all, when buying a house, it wasn't just about the house itself but also about the location.
So, he defused the situation with a smile, "Frank, which one of these three houses do you think is the best?"
"I definitely like the one in Los Altos!" Mr. Foster quickly answered. "It's a lakeside villa! Just imagine, summer nights, inviting a bunch of friends for a bonfire party by the lake, playing the guitar, singing, enjoying the moonlight while fishing. That would be amazing! And if we could invite some bikini girls, even better!"
Before Ethan could respond, the agent's corner of the mouth twitched.
"Sir, the lake next to the Los Altos villa is a no-fishing zone."
"Oh, forget it then. Living by the lake without fishing is boring."
Mr. Foster's sudden change in tone left the agent speechless.
"Ethan, I strongly advise against choosing this house. The property tax in California is 1.25%, so for a $120,000 house, you'd be paying $1,500 in taxes alone. Meanwhile, the deposit interest rates at the bank are rising every year. In no time, you could earn $12,000 on a $120,000 deposit. And do you really think these houses will appreciate by 10% in a year? I don't believe it."
"Moreover, why wasn't the no-fishing zone mentioned earlier?"
"Trying to hide flaws, huh?"
Sharp words made the agent tighten his lips.
At that moment, he even doubted if Frank, with his prominent features, was a spy sent by the homeowner.
Ethan, however, closed the file with a smile. Despite Mr. Foster's previous outbursts, this time he was right. When it came to buying a house, the selling agent would undoubtedly want to present it flawlessly. Buyers needed to be vigilant, or they might fall into the pits set by the other party.
"Oh Frank, thanks for your advice, but I still think I need to visit the places in person," Ethan said with a smile.
"Up to you." Frank shrugged, asking, "Do you want me to accompany you?"
"Sure." Ethan smiled. "If you have the time."
For Ethan, taking someone like Frank, who was straightforward, to view houses was a great thing. As for the white agent who introduced the houses, he felt a bit uneasy.
Because he had a feeling that the process of house hunting might not be as simple as it seemed.
True enough, when Ethan, accompanied by Frank, arrived at Palo Alto, he immediately expressed his dissatisfaction with the school villa. Giving Frank a signal, Ethan let him go on the offensive.
"Ten thousand dollars for this place? Is the homeowner planning a robbery?"
"Although it's close to Stanford, what's up with that car rental company nearby?"
"Don't you, as real estate agents, know that car rental companies are one of the easiest to generate noise pollution? Checking the car during rentals and inspecting it upon return. During working hours, it'll definitely be buzzing like flies!"
The agent felt a bit irritated at the barrage of complaints.
After carefully selecting, Ethan and the agent took a detour to Cupertino.
Compared to the previous two villas, this one, no, this row house has a rather compact layout.
The garage design is very American.
Standing at the entrance of the house, you can see a rectangular gap opening from the left side of the house.
The open design leaves no hiding place for nosy neighbors. However, at the same time, you have to admit that this design makes the garage door next to it an exclusive entrance for friends and family. After all, normal people, after getting out of the car, would enter the house through the inner door of the garage. No one would bother to go around to the front and enter through the main door.
Not only that, but the decoration of this house is also quite old-fashioned. The once snow-white walls are now yellowed, and various fixtures are wooden. Perhaps due to years of use, many handles in the kitchen cabinets have fallen off, and the wardrobe doors in the bedroom even have cracks.
In this situation, Frank asked in a hushed voice, "Brother, what do you think?"
'!'
This fact made the white intermediary's face tighten.
Before Ethan could react, anxiously, he vigorously started selling.
"Mr. Jones, although this house was built in 1920 and has a history of fifty-five years, the overall structure of the house is still good and can be moved into after a little tidying up. Moreover, Cupertino became an official city just over a decade ago. Because it's a new city, everything here is developing rapidly. In the past ten years, new roads have been laid, and a new living environment has been constructed. If nothing unexpected happens, the houses here will appreciate rapidly in the coming years. More importantly, this is a predominantly white neighborhood, and most members of the community have legitimate jobs, making the crime rate very low..."
The torrential introduction made Ethan nod slightly.
Honestly, safety was a significant consideration for him when buying a house.
After a brief look, Ethan felt that it might be a good place.
Although it looks a bit run-down, with a little renovation, it should be fine.
But seventy thousand...
Close the door, Frank!
Ethan signaled to Frank.
Understanding his signal, Frank quickly said, "Brother, are you sure this is worth seventy thousand?"
"A lot of the furniture and interior decorations here are no longer usable! After buying, you'll need to renovate, which will cost several thousand dollars! If there are problems with the main structure of the house, you might have to spend tens of thousands of dollars on repairs!"
As soon as Frank spoke, the white intermediary's head started to ache.
"Oh, sir," he said, "the selling point of this house is Cupertino!"
"We are all from San Francisco, and we should know that, currently, we are standing on this piece of land, this vibrant land, perhaps one of the safest places in California because it's far from Oakland..."
However, before the white intermediary could finish, a muffled sound of impact suddenly occurred.
Then, a roar followed—
"Oh! Damn it! Roger! What do you mean by this?"
The sudden commotion seemed like an invisible hand strangling the white intermediary's neck.
Hearing the booming voice, the white intermediary felt his throat congested, unable to cough or swallow.
Throat moving, he said awkwardly, "Gentlemen, this is just an accident."
"Is it?" Frank seized the opportunity, "An accident? Oh, brother! Don't delude yourself!"
"I think this must be the reason the owner wants to sell the house, right?"
"Because it's too noisy!"
Before his words could settle, another angry shout came—
"MFxxk—Harry! Are you trying to pick a fight with them?"
Upon hearing this, the white intermediary's eyes went dark, and his body swayed, almost fainting.
Meanwhile, Ethan, standing with folded arms, couldn't help but smile.
Although he had thought Mr. Foble was a bit rough earlier, now...
This guy is quite useful, at least in terms of luck.
Just as Ethan pursed his lips, wanting to see if the white intermediary would be talked into lowering the price by Mr. Foble.
A creaking sound reached their ears.
Then, another round of angry yelling—
"Li! Are you crazy? Are you also standing with them?"
"Dxxn! John! Don't you believe us?"
"We didn't damage your things, and it's impossible for us to damage your things!"
"That day, you watched us disassemble the machine! After we disassembled it and reassembled it, we ran it again, no problem!"
'???'
Although Ethan felt that this sudden quarrel had some divine assistance, as he listened, he also felt that something was not right. Because the yelling voices sounded strangely familiar.
Feeling curious, he frowned and came to the window, then looked outside, and...
His eyes went dark.
Because downstairs, the figure yelling was quite abstract.