Rota City.
Lower District, Ster Street.
A blinding light tore through the night sky, the explosion's impact affecting several streets, and homeless people fled the neighborhood in panic.
Soon after, city police rushed to the scene. Seeing the fully armed officers, nearby homeless people cautiously avoided them.
Normally, the lower district wouldn't have such a rapid response time.
Such a rapid response meant something serious had happened.
Inside the cordoned-off area, the officers looked at the wrecked warehouse with a heavy heart. The warehouse interior seemed to have been kneaded like mud by a single hand; not only were the illegal goods destroyed, but also the people handling them. *
Beep beep*—the
detector alarm sounded, and an officer's face darkened, his voice filled with barely suppressed anger.
"These bastards, smuggling this stuff again!"
The detector alarm meant there were remnants of the strange dream's corruption at the scene. The officers, enduring their discomfort, inspected every area of the warehouse, and amidst the chaotic scene mixed with broken flesh and blood, they found the only intact item.
It was a ripped-open 'coffin,' and the officer directing the scene was familiar with it.
It was a box specifically used to contain patients with abnormal dreams. The explosion here was clearly caused by an abnormal dream going out of control. The scene was utterly destroyed, yet the box survived, indicating its extremely high quality.
Abnormal dreams are a peculiar phenomenon in this world. Some consider them an illness, others a 'treasure chest,' and there's much research surrounding them.
Abnormal dreams can bring substantial profits, leading to their smuggling.
Smuggling combined with improper storage easily results in abnormal dreams going out of control. This was the fourth such incident this month, and there are at least one or two related cases every month.
Some even deliberately orchestrate 'terrorist attacks' caused by abnormal dreams going out of control. An out-of-control dream can severely erode reality, and within that eroding reality, it might retain things that belong to the dream world.
This is the profit that abnormal dreams bring!
When alternate dreams erode reality, they leave behind all sorts of strange things. These things grant people longevity, stronger physiques, special powers, and technology and knowledge surpassing that of this era…
But these things bring not only benefits; they also create monsters and harmful items resulting from the out-of-control alternate dreams.
The technology and knowledge surpassing this era raise many taboo questions that don't belong to this time.
The altered dreams erode reality, bringing demons, vampires, monsters, and other creatures that shouldn't exist.
To this day, no one knows exactly how many creatures exist after the altered dreams erode reality. They hide in human society, in unknown dark corners, and even among the police officers on patrol.
Some have even stopped hiding altogether, no longer needing to hide; their sheer numbers have made them part of the intelligent life form.
"Officer Mead, there are no remnants of the altered dreams at the scene. This is a small-scale altered dream outage."
"Clean up the scene." Officer Mead nodded, and the officers began spraying a special solution into the warehouse. This solution could clean up the remnants of the out-of-control altered dreams.
This out-of-control dream was indeed small-scale, but the high quality of the boxes left at the scene was unsettling.
After the police sealed the boxes, they began making arrests. Dream smuggling involves many profit chains, but since it involved out-of-control dreams, someone had to be held accountable.
Since this out-of-control dream didn't cause much chaos, the smugglers were caught, the case was closed, and it was also announced that the poorly managed, dilapidated warehouse had caught fire, causing the explosion of hazardous materials stored inside…
The gangs on Ster Street were wiped out, and the homeless people there breathed a sigh of relief until a new gang took over the street.
During this time, the homeless didn't have to worry about mysteriously disappearing. As the number of homeless people on Ster Street began to increase, an uninvited guest appeared.
The huddled homeless didn't notice how the other person appeared. In a brief moment of collective daze, Bai Mu, regaining his senses, tightened his clothes. He didn't know what season it was in the city, but it was quite cold.
The completely unfamiliar environment left him somewhat stunned.
The homeless men nearby noticed Bai Mu and approached him in a group.
Bai Mu, a newcomer, wanted to test the moral limits of the local homeless population. Seeing one of them pull out a tetanus knife, Bai Mu preemptively punched him in the face. The homeless man, before he could even scream, collapsed to the ground. The
remaining homeless men immediately cowered, but Bai Mu had no intention of letting them go.
"Ah—please stop hitting me!"
the fallen homeless man wailed, begging for mercy. They were just homeless people who often went hungry and were physically weak; when faced with someone more ruthless, they could only lie on the ground begging for mercy.
The homeless men's language wasn't familiar to Bai Mu, but he could understand it. The environment here resembled the Second Industrial Revolution era, not steampunk in style. Bai Mu,
whose reason for transmigrating was unknown, was currently the only abnormal thing about him—he didn't have a language barrier.
"You guys are too poor." Kicking away the tetanus blade that had fallen to the ground, Bai Mu didn't waste any time and ransacked the homeless people, only managing to find a few dirty coins and a few not-so-clean newspapers. He could read the text above.
"How did I end up transmigrating?" Bai Mu browsed the information. He could read the text, and the newspaper gave him a basic understanding of the place.
Rota City, a place he'd never heard of. Judging from the buildings lining the streets, it wasn't a small place.
A modern city—would it be friendly to a transmigrator like him?
Thinking about the appearance of the homeless people, Bai Mu felt that his location was inappropriate.
He was Chinese, and appearing in a place with foreigners, coupled with his definitely illegal status, made his future look bleak.
After a somewhat difficult night, Bai Mu, realizing his bleak future, discovered it wasn't so bad.
This city had foreigners, but also familiar 'Chinese' people, who weren't much different from the foreigners in this city.
This world, with its Chinese population, seemed to have successfully boarded the train of the Second Industrial Revolution.
The initial start-up capital given to him by the homeless people wasn't much, but it was enough for Bai Mu to buy a simple breakfast and experience the prices here firsthand.
Unexpectedly, the breakfast quality was quite good; they even had steamed buns, though without meat filling.
While eating his steamed buns, Bai Mu considered his next steps.
First, he needed to understand the situation in this city, and even this world, and then figure out a suitable identity.
He didn't need to change his clothes immediately. Although the city resembled the late 19th century, the clothes people wore reflected the saying, "Fashion is cyclical."
Except for his shoes, everything else he wore blended in perfectly.
Maybe he could sell the shoes? And his phone still had over 90% battery.
Oh well, he wouldn't make himself and his phone suffer.
After finishing his buns, Bai Mu chatted with the breakfast shop owner: "Boss, is there any place around here where you can make money quickly?"
"I run a legitimate business!" the not-so-busy breakfast shop owner replied bluntly.
"I'm new here and don't know anything. I'm looking for a job that can earn money. You seem to be from the same hometown, could you recommend one?"
"Who said we're from the same hometown?" the breakfast shop owner glanced at Bai Mu. This guy spoke with a thick local accent; what kind of hometown connection was that?
Seeing that Bai Mu was strong and didn't seem like someone to be trifled with, the shop owner thought for a moment and said, "If you're strong, you can try your luck in the dock area. You can sell your labor there. If you have other skills, you can try your luck in the upper city."
"Even without local status?" "
...Who exactly are you?" The breakfast shop owner's expression changed. Bai Mu didn't look like a refugee or a homeless person at all. Even if he were homeless, some of them weren't unregistered.
Because homeless people with civil registration can try to apply for welfare.
"I'm someone who just came here and plans to settle down. I haven't decided what I'll do in the future yet." Bai Mu spoke frankly. If he couldn't get any useful information here, he would ask elsewhere later.
"Go to the city hall and register your civil status. Once you pay your first tax, you can say you're a local, and then you are!"
"I don't know the way. How about this, I'll help out here for a day, and you can take me there, boss?"
The breakfast shop owner refused Bai Mu's offer without hesitation. He didn't need Bai Mu to help out in the shop, didn't want to lead the way, and didn't even want to continue talking to Bai Mu.
"Hurry up and go! I don't need anyone's help. If you don't know the way, go to the police station and ask!"
Going to the police station was definitely out of the question. As for the city hall, Bai Mu planned to ask a few more people to see if the breakfast shop owner's advice was reliable.
It seemed reliable, after all, the owner wouldn't come looking for trouble, but the breakfast shop owner still had to consider the consequences of lying, right?
Bai Mu then approached the homeless friend he had met yesterday. His thinking was simple: he had felt the city's simple and honest people as soon as he arrived, and the homeless who could survive here must know the area well, right?
"It's you again!" Faced with Bai Mu's arrival, the homeless man who had been taken care of last night was afraid. This guy was too strong.
"I have some questions for you." Bai Mu showed a friendly smile: "Don't be afraid, I won't hit you."
The homeless men were even more frightened and asked timidly, "What do you want to know?"
"Everything!"
Faced with Bai Mu's even bigger fist, the homeless men reluctantly answered Bai Mu's questions.
Through these homeless people, Bai Mu gained a better understanding of the city. The difference between asking regular shop owners and asking these homeless people was quite significant.
He couldn't afford to lay a hand on the breakfast shop owners, nor did he have the money to buy information, but he didn't need to be so polite to these homeless people…
(End of Chapter)