Chapter 1: Who Would Ever Want to Find a Legitimate Job in Gotham?
Cold. Shaking...
A loud clanging echoed in his ears as the trembling of the ground jarred Ma Zhaodi's head, making the back of his skull ache dully.
"Sir."
Half-awake, half-dreaming, he seemed to hear a voice repeating beside him.
Who was it?
"Sir!"
Who was this voice calling?
Me?
"Wake up! Sir!"
A cold, damp air invaded his nostrils, carrying a faint metallic scent of blood and an unsettling sense of danger. It felt as though this chill could reach straight through his nose into his very soul, yanking his consciousness from the depths like a diver pulled abruptly from the sea. Instantly, his mind cleared.
He opened his eyes with a start, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling.
No, not a ceiling.
The ground was rocking rhythmically beneath him with that relentless clattering, while thick clouds streamed past the windows at breakneck speed. Rows of seats lined both sides; he was lying in the aisle between them.
He was on a train.
But why was he here?
As clarity returned, Ma Zhaodi braced himself on the cold floor and sat up. Empty train seats surrounded him, and a train attendant stood nearby.
"Sir, are you all right?"
Why was a foreign attendant asking him questions in English?
When did I ever board a foreign train?
No, this can't be right—I wasn't on a train at all...
He shook his head vigorously, trying to convince himself that all this was just an illusion.
Unfortunately, everything about this scene was painfully real: the chilly air, the cold metal floor, the scratched and battered train carriage, the thunderous roar of the wheels—all of it testified unmistakably to the reality of this world.
"But I was supposed to be pulling an all-nighter, writing..."
He racked his brain for his last memory: he’d been too tired and had collapsed onto the keyboard while writing.
Maybe I was just exhausted and fell asleep. I must be dreaming now. Or maybe some bored reality show team is playing a prank on me?
He mulled over these thoughts.
While pondering, Ma Zhaodi stood and took a seat beside the aisle. The attendant continued to check on him, but seeing this silent, Asian passenger, the man grew a little uneasy.
Most passengers wouldn’t be unnerving, but there was only one stop left: the final destination.
That destination was Gotham.
Normal people might go to Gotham City, but it was unlikely that any normal person would choose to do so.
Steeling himself, the attendant asked again. Still, the passenger responded only with a strange, haunted look.
That gaze was unnerving—so much so that the attendant, unable to bear the pressure, muttered an apology and hurried away.
Seeing the attendant leave, Ma Zhaodi turned to the window. Through the misted glass, he could see the gloomy sky and, beneath the rain clouds, a city shrouded in darkness: a towering clock tower, densely packed skyscrapers, bizarre gothic architecture, and, in the distance, grimy, low-rise slums. English signs and billboards dotted the scene.
A clock tower? Slums? English signage?
From the architectural style alone, it was obvious he wasn't in the East.
"Where on earth have I ended up? Is this even my country?" Ma Zhaodi murmured unconsciously.
"Woooo—"
Just as he was puzzling over why he’d dream of a foreign place he’d never visited, the train whistle sounded. The train slowed, then glided into the station.
He stared, dumbfounded, at the unfamiliar platform and the blond, blue-eyed faces waiting outside.
With a clang, the doors opened, and the passengers, laden with luggage, streamed out onto the platform.
Caught in the tide, Ma Zhaodi was swept off the train, feeling like a rootless weed drifting toward some unknown fate.
"Why am I not waking up? Why won’t this dream end..."
He stumbled off the train in a daze and stopped in his tracks, eyes fixed on the sign above the platform.
Gotham City.
He’d wanted to keep pretending it was all a dream, but the name broke through his defenses. He didn’t know much English, but he’d seen enough superhero movies to understand what this word meant.
"Who the hell’s twisted idea was it to send me to this wretched place?!"
Almost despairing, Ma Zhaodi pressed his hands to his face. He wondered if he’d survive even his first night in this city, or if he’d be stripped to the bone by a back-alley criminal. In one of America’s most crime-ridden cities, honest citizens were as rare as unicorns, and truly upright people were all but extinct.
Elsewhere, a simple pickpocket would be just another petty criminal; in Gotham, someone who only stole, never mugged, killed, or set fires could easily be considered a model citizen.
Seventy percent of the population belonged to gangs; the rest were split between world-class terrorist organizations, assassin groups, a few children, the wealthy, capitalists, solitary supervillains, and, of course, Gotham’s biggest lunatic.
And then there were the world-class unfortunates—those pure bystanders who knew nothing about the city and wandered in by accident.
Police? There wasn’t a single officer in the department who hadn’t collaborated with criminals or lunatics at some point. This was a city soaked in darkness. If there was any innocence left, it belonged solely to the newly arrived Ma Zhaodi.
Ding.
"Start-From-Scratch System loaded. Please work hard, earn money, and prosper through diligence. Money opens all doors. As long as you aren’t penniless, you’ll always have a chance."
"Current assets: seven dollars."
"Current task: Using your own two hands, find a job in Gotham City and earn your first bucket of gold since arriving."
"Beginner benefit options:
Available for purchase:
Basic English Proficiency
Price: $1
Note: Wait, how do you spell 'abandon' again?
Local Resident Identity
Price: $1 each
Note: In Gotham, you’re a true local if your day isn’t filled with gunfights or knife attacks!
Rapid Health Recovery
Price: $1
Note: If it works, come again—next time, 99.999% off.
Save Point
Price: $1
Note: Salary’s a hundred million; pay next time if you can’t afford it.
Please note: You may only earn assets through legal employment. Prosper through honest labor."
Seeing the system and its contents, Ma Zhaodi’s emotions soared and plummeted like a rollercoaster. Thoughts swirled chaotically, ending in a single, helpless sigh.
"Who in their right mind would try to find a legal job in Gotham..."