Bab 14: The Art Of Approaching Women.

The Lambo truck purred like a contented beast as it idled on the street, its neon green paint job gleaming in the afternoon light.

Hugo sat in the passenger seat, fidgeting with excitement and nerves. He leaned his head on the comfortable headrest and sighed in contentment.

This car was a dream!

It felt like he was being piggybacked by angels. Heck, it probably even felt better!

The interior of the truck was sleek, with more buttons than an airplane cockpit, and every inch screamed wealth and luxury.

Of course, it was all quality red leather and roof lights. The seats were set at a slightly warm heat that made Hugo's back tingle.

And there was also the amazing sound system!

Hugo glanced over at Sanchez, who was dressed casually in a plain white t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers that looked like they had seen better days.

Despite the simple outfit, Sanchez radiated confidence, looking like he had just stepped off a runway.

Was this the effect of the so called charm? Charisma? Or was he just so damn good looking?

"I swear, man," Hugo said, tapping his fingers on the dashboard, "One day, I'm gonna get my own dope car like this. Roll up to campus, and people are gonna be like, 'Who's that dude?' And I'll just lean out the window, sunglasses on, and—boom!—instant respect."

Sanchez chuckled. "Yeah, respect or they'll think you stole it. But first things first, Hugo. You're here to learn the fine art of approaching women. Not crashing and burning."

Hugo adjusted his seatbelt, smoothed his bangs, and cleared his RAM, looking determined. "I'm ready. Teach me, O Wise One."

Sanchez leaned back, casually draping his arm over the steering wheel like a seasoned playboy. "Alright, rookie, listen up. First rule of approaching a woman: don't be weird."

Hugo frowned. "I'm not weird."

"You're weird, Hugo. You make weird look normal." Sanchez smirked. "The reason why most dudes fail to get a chick's number is because they came off as weird, and to women, weird automatically means simp, so she simply ignores them."

Hugo nodded like a chicken pecking rice. He wanted to absorb every single bit of knowledge from Sanchez like SpongeBob.

"As long as you don't come off as weird, a woman would definitely give you the 2 lines grace."

Hugo's brows furrowed. "What's the 2 lines grace?"

"It's simply the chance for you to say 2 sentences. This would determine if you would be getting her number or not. This 2 lines grace is extremely important, you need to break the ice, demonstrate intent, and leave an impression all within 2 or 3 sentences."

'Break ice, killing Intent and unforgettable jokes...' Hugo penned it down in his imaginary notebook with seriousness.

"Second rule: Confidence. This is the solution to the problem of the first rule. As long as you appear confident, she wouldn't see you as weird, so you need to uninstall your insecurities before you approach her. Women can smell insecurity from a mile away, and trust me, you reek of it."

Hugo pouted. "I do not reek."

Sanchez waved his hand dismissively. He didn't want to waste his breath. "Third rule: Be direct but not creepy. A compliment's fine, but don't sound like you're auditioning for a creepy romance novel. Saying she's beautiful no longer works, instead use more specific compliments and make them seem sporadic. This would make them feel more genuine. That way, you've managed to break the ice and also show Intent."

"Got it. No creepy."

"And fourth…" Sanchez grinned wickedly. "Don't pull a Hugo."

Hugo blinked. "What's a Hugo?"

Sanchez looked at him deadpan. "You."

"Har har. Very funny."

"Look, just watch how it's done," Sanchez said, unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping out of the car. "Time for a demo."

Hugo watched in awe as Sanchez casually strolled down the street, picking a target: a beautiful girl walking with a friend.

Hugo's eyes widened—this girl was definitely at least an 8. Yet, Sanchez approached her as if he were asking for the time.

He said something, laughed, and the girl giggled, playfully touching his arm. Even her friend looked charmed.

Hugo's jaw dropped. "He's not even wearing anything fancy! Is this some sort of black magic?"

Hugo felt this was too unnatural. Was his cousin using some evil talismans?

After getting her number, Sanchez waved to the girls and walked back to the truck, grinning as he climbed inside. "That, my dear Hugo, is how it's done. Simple, smooth, and no weirdness."

Hugo blinked at him. "What did you even say?"

Sanchez shrugged. "I just asked them for directions, then slipped in a compliment about her smile. Easy."

Hugo nodded, furiously taking mental notes. "Directions… smile… be cool… Got it. I can do this."

Sanchez clapped him on the back. "Alright, bro. Your turn. Go get 'em."

Hugo swallowed, adrenaline kicking in as he unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out. He scanned the street and spotted a girl standing by herself, scrolling through her phone.

Okay, Hugo, he thought. Be confident. Don't be weird. Compliment her smile. What's the worst that could happen?

He strutted over, trying to mimic Sanchez's cool, relaxed gait. His legs, however, felt like they were made of Jell-O, and his hands had started sweating uncontrollably.

He waddled across the street and stopped in front of the girl, cleared his throat, and blurted out, "Hi! Do you know how much a polar bear weighs?"

The girl looked up, clearly confused. "What?"

"Enough to break the ice! Haha…" Hugo's laugh came out as more of a desperate wheeze. The only thing was that she wasn't smiling.

The girl blinked at him, unimpressed. "Uh… okay."

Abort mission! Hugo's brain screamed, but his mouth kept moving. Time for the compliments! "You have… um… nice teeth!"

The girl's face twisted into a look of confusion mixed with slight horror. "Thanks?"

Sensing the imminent collapse of the conversation, Hugo tried to salvage it. "I mean… your smile! It's great! Not in a creepy way! I'm not a dentist or anything!"

She stepped back, eyes narrowing. "Right… I gotta go."

Hugo watched her walk away, his soul shriveling inside him. Defeated, he slunk back to the Lambo and slid into the passenger seat.

Sanchez was trying not to laugh but failing miserably. "Nice teeth, huh? Really setting the bar high there."

Hugo buried his face in his hands. He didn't know how Sanchez had managed to hear his conversation. "It was going so well in my head! I don't know what happened!"

"Dude, you asked about a polar bear. Why would you do that?"

"I panicked, okay!?"

Sanchez shook his head, still chuckling. "Well, at least you didn't make it worse by mentioning her elbows or something."

Hugo slumped in his seat, staring out the window. "I'm hopeless."

Just then, a loud Ding! echoed in his mind. He froze as the system notification appeared in front of his eyes.

[System Challenge: Open 50 women in one day!]

Hugo's mouth dropped. 'Fifty women? In ONE DAY? Are you kidding me?'

Sanchez glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "What's that look for? You look like someone just told you to run a marathon."

Hugo's mind raced. Fifty women? He could barely manage one! And that one had almost run for the hills!

Sanchez, oblivious to the system notification, smirked. "Hey, you'll get there. Just need a little more practice. And maybe, you know, avoid using any more wildlife-based pick-up lines."

Hugo groaned. "I'm doomed."