Basketball Soul System: I Got Westbrook's MVP Powers in Another World!-Chapter 71 :Moving Day

It was the day after All-Star Weekend — Monday, February 16th.

The Iron City Roarers wouldn’t resume training until Tuesday, their next game slated for Thursday, a home stand against the Starships.

But Ryan had been on the move since early morning.

First stop: the Department of Motor Vehicles—he was finally getting his driver’s license.

Truth was, Ryan didn’t even have plates when he bought the K3 coupe.

The whole thing had been rushed—an impulsive move, fueled by Eddie’s casual comment:

"Come on, man. You’re Ryan Carter. In Iron City, no traffic cop’s gonna pull you over."

So he just kept driving, promising himself he’d sort it out eventually.

Today was that day.

He breezed through the written test, the questions on traffic laws and road signs clicking into place after a night of cramming the DMV handbook.

By mid-morning, he had his learner’s permit in hand and a road test scheduled for a few days out, a small victory that set the tone for the day.

After a quick coffee stop, Ryan headed downtown for a commercial shoot.

No time on the court, but he was still on his feet—posing, adjusting, smiling on cue.

By 2:00 PM, he was meeting Eddie and Jamal at a cramped diner on the edge of town.

The place smelled of grease and fresh-baked pies, the hum of conversation filling the air as they slid into a booth.

Eddie leaned back, sipping his soda. "Next order of business—housing. You buying or renting?"

"Rent," Ryan said without hesitation.

"I’m not pulling ten mil a year, and I don’t even have a long-term contract locked down yet."

Eddie’s eyes glinted with a strategist’s edge.

"Speaking of contracts—you’re on that rookie one-year, non-guaranteed deal. I’ll have Butch get it converted to guaranteed."

He paused. "Thing is, a one-year can’t be extended early, so we’ll have to wait till it’s up to negotiate a new one.

When that time comes, I’ll make sure you get a fat contract—trust me."

Ryan waved it off, stirring his coffee. "We’ll cross that bridge later. For now, let’s talk houses. Got any leads?"

Eddie smirked, leaning in. "Actually, you might want someone better suited to show you around."

"Who?" Ryan asked, brow furrowing.

"Chloe Palmer," Eddie said, watching for the reaction.

Ryan’s jaw dropped. "Her?"

Eddie nodded, a knowing grin spreading. "Steven Palmer, is a real estate mogul. Back before Chloe struck out on her own, she handled the rental side of his empire. She knows the game inside out."

Ryan’s eyes lit up. "Alright, I’m calling her now."

He stayed in the booth, pulling out his phone and dialing Chloe’s number.

The line rang twice before her voice came through—warm, soft, and unmistakably sweet.

"Hey, Ryan! What’s up?"

"Hey—sorry for the short notice. Any chance you’re free this afternoon? I’m looking for a place to rent"

"You’ve got perfect timing," Chloe said. "I’ll set it up. Give me thirty minutes. Where are you?"

"The Rusty Spoon Diner, off 5th and Main," Ryan said, a grin creeping onto his face.

To get to see Chloe again—that was a bonus he hadn’t expected.

"Got it. See you soon," she said, hanging up.

Thirty minutes later, the diner door swung open, and Chloe strode in, confidence in her step.

She was dressed in something casual, but effortlessly stylish.

Ryan’s pulse kicked up as he spotted her, and he gave a quick wave.

Trailing just behind her was a tall, sharp-jawed young man.

She introduced him with a quick smile: "This is Travis—he used to work under me. My former lead showing agent."

Travis stepped forward first, offering a firm handshake to Ryan, then Eddie, and finally Jamal, his grip steady and professional.

Once the greetings were out of the way, he tilted his head, sizing up the situation. "So, you hunting for an apartment, a house, or something else entirely?"

Ryan paused, scratching lightly at his jaw. He lived alone, and with the amount of time he spent traveling for away games, he’d never cared much about where he slept. Honestly, if it weren’t for the parking hassle with his new K3 coupe, he wouldn’t have even thought about moving out of unit 702—that rundown place he shared with Jamal and Kylie. It wasn’t fancy, but it felt like home.

"A house," Ryan said at last. "I’m too lazy to hike to some parking garage every time I need the car."

Travis nodded. "Got it. You thinking more of a mansion or a luxury home?"

Ryan blinked. "Whoa, I just want something with a driveway. Not a mansion."

"Single-family home or townhouse?"

"Town—"

"Single-family home," Chloe cut in smoothly before Ryan could finish. "More privacy. And it’s not like you’re strapped for cash."

Ryan let out a small, amused sigh. "Alright, fine."

"Got it," Travis nodded. "Anything else you’re looking for?"

"Doesn’t have to be big," Ryan said. "Just needs to be close to the Roarers Training Center."

Without missing a beat, Travis whipped out his tablet, fingers flying across the screen. In moments, he turned it toward Ryan, displaying a sleek listing.

"Check this out—single-family home, quiet neighborhood, ten-minute drive from the facility. Modern build, private driveway, secure garage. What do you think?"

Ryan scanned the photos—clean lines, a balcony, that garage—and grinned. "Looks solid. Let’s go check it out."

Eddie clapped Travis on the shoulder. "Hop in with me, man."

Travis glanced at Chloe, who’d driven him here, but he caught the hint and played it cool.

"Sure thing." He followed Eddie and Jamal out the door.

Chloe turned to Ryan, a playful spark in her eyes. "Guess it’s your turn to chauffer me around."

Ryan chuckled, scratching his head. "No problem, but fair warning—I’m driving without a license."

Chloe blinked, then burst into laughter. "That big a deal? Come on, let’s roll."

They headed to Ryan’s K3, its glossy finish catching the afternoon light. He slid into the driver’s seat, Chloe settling beside him with an amused smirk. With a quick glance at Eddie’s car pulling out ahead, Ryan eased the K3 into gear, tailing them toward the Single-family home.

Before long, the group pulled up to the single-family home, its quaint facade framed by a neatly trimmed lawn and a wraparound porch that hinted at quiet evenings.

The moment they stepped out of the cars, one of Travis’s assistants hurried over, a set of house keys jangling in hand.

Travis led the way, unlocking the door and ushered them inside.

The interior greeted them with a lived-in warmth—polished hardwood floors stretched underfoot, and a scattering of furniture filled the space: a plush sofa in the living room, a sturdy dining table, and a bed in the master bedroom, the mattress still looking fresh and barely used.

"The last tenant moved out just recently—job relocation," he explained. "Left a bunch of furniture behind, but we can swap out anything you don’t like. Weekly cleaning’s already arranged, so it’s spotless."

Ryan wasn’t the picky type. The mattress looked nearly new, far better than the worn-out one he’d been sleeping on in Unit 702. Honestly, toss on some fresh sheets and he was good to go. He hated fuss, and this place felt easy.

After a slow loop around the house, Ryan nodded. "I’ll take it."

"You sure you don’t want to see a few others?" Travis asked.

"No need. I’m happy with this one."

"Alright. Monthly rent’s twenty-eight hundred."

Ryan didn’t even flinch. That kind of money barely registered anymore.

"Can I move in today?"

Parking his K3 was the real headache, and moving in now would fix that instantly.

Travis hesitated. "Uh... there’s still some paperwork—"

"We’ll handle that later," Chloe said smoothly. "Give him the keys."

Travis handed them over without another word.

Ryan wired over $5,600 on the spot—first month’s rent and deposit—then scheduled a time to sign the paperwork later.

On the drive back, he dropped Chloe off at her car.

"Thanks for helping me out today," he said.

She smiled. "Don’t mention it."

Then it was just Ryan and Jamal, heading back to Unit 702.

Jamal stared out the window, quiet. "Man... can’t believe we’re splitting up this fast."

Ryan chuckled. "You’re making it sound weird."

"I’m serious," Jamal said. "Gonna miss you, man. Kylie’s gonna be crushed."

Ryan thought of Kylie, hesitated. "You guys could move in, if you want. There’s room."

Jamal laughed. "We’re not that shameless."

Back at Unit 702, Ryan packed. Not that there was much—just clothes and a single suitcase.

Kylie, though, took it harder. She teared up when he broke the news, her eyes glistening, but she rallied quickly, dragging him out to hit a store for sheets and essentials. They roamed the aisles, her chatter filling the space, picking out navy-blue linens and a lamp that caught her eye.

That night, Ryan lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of a room that was finally his.

Living alone was going to take some getting used to.

Then again, no time to overthink it.

Morning practice with the Roarers was coming fast.

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