Chapter 57: New Feros

Picking up a stick from the shoreline, Zhang Ji used it to support himself as he walked all the way from the beach until he finally reached the city streets.

To be honest, the environment here caught him somewhat off guard.

Along the streets, drug addicts and homeless people could be seen lying around from time to time. A foul stench filled the air, and industrial wastewater and exhaust fumes were discharged openly right through the middle of the city. Punks with tattoos, cybernetic body modifications, and firearms in hand sped past on motorcycles, bursting out of alleys and firing shots into the air while roaring with laughter—it was obvious they were high out of their minds.

How should he describe it? It felt like he was back on Shanli Island.

At that moment, Zhang Ji suddenly noticed four punks with malicious looks in their eyes walking toward him while speaking in a language unfamiliar to him. The ill intent radiating from them was unmistakable.

He had initially thought they were after the Moonlit Goblet visible beneath the ragged fabric of his pocket, but he soon realized their gazes weren't focused on that.

That made things rather interesting.

What value could a disabled man covered in severe burns possibly hold for them?

As they closed in and made their move, Zhang Ji raised his hand, and a few needles of primal energy, no thicker than a steel pin, instantly claimed the lives of three of them.

The remaining one couldn't understand Zhang Ji's words and barely managed to communicate using a translation app on his phone.

"I ask, you answer," Zhang Ji said, holding the phone right up to the man's ear.

"Okay! Okay, okay!" the man stammered.

"Where is this?" Zhang Ji asked.

"Mid! Midlecity!"

Zhang Ji was unfamiliar with this place name, so he asked again, "Which country does it belong to?"

"New Felros!" the punk replied.

"New Felros? The general direction wasn't wrong, but the specific coordinates seem to have drifted..."

Zhang Ji actually had an impression of this place name.

It was a country bordering the nation of Roman.

A nation that permitted alchemy, the sale of addictive substances, and human organ trafficking... A place jointly ruled by criminal syndicates and corrupt officials.

Simply put, a paradise for criminals.

Chaos pushed to its absolute limit.

Compared to this place, Shanli Island could only be called "Little Felros."

After all, Shanli Island was merely an island with a population of one million, subject to various restrictions and completely disconnected from the internet.

Whereas here, it was a country with a population of over forty million.

Furthermore, it was equipped with various heavy-duty weapons and a savagely thriving alchemy-tech industry.

Behind the scenes, multiple major powers seemed to be backing various factions operating their own research projects here, or perhaps they simply treated this place as a strategic buffer zone.

After all, the two neighboring countries bordering it were Roman and Guoning.

Both of these nations ranked among the top five globally in terms of current national power.

Traced back to its roots, New Felros had even been a part of Guoning in the past.

"Got any money?" Zhang Ji asked.

"Yes, a little..."

The punk pulled a few crumpled bills from his pocket. Seeing Zhang Ji frown, he hastily leaned over and rummaged through his dead accomplice's pockets, fishing out more valuables, including a gold chain, a wristwatch, and a small pouch containing something resembling tobacco.

"His hat is valuable too; it's the latest release and can fetch a good price at the second-hand market..."

Zhang Ji ignored the hat and left the pouch of tobacco untouched, but he confiscated everything else.

"I'm curious, what were you guys planning to do just now?" Zhang Ji asked.

"Dean's Alchemy Workshop needs fresh human organs. Your internal organs could sell for over five thousand New Fels!" the punk blurted out.

"Should I say this is quintessentially New Felros?" Zhang Ji raised an eyebrow.

Right out in the open streets, people could engage in such criminal atrocities.

"Don't law enforcement officers care?" Zhang Ji asked.

"They're right over there..." The punk pointed not far away.

Zhang Ji turned his head to look and saw a dilapidated patrol vehicle, inside of which lay someone dressed in a law enforcement uniform, dead drunk.

He had heard rumors on the internet that the local authorities here had no actual control, and that the real power was wielded by foreign capital and street gangs pulling the strings behind the scenes. At the time, he had remained somewhat skeptical.

Now, witnessing this scene with his own eyes, he finally believed it.

"This phone is mine now," Zhang Ji said.

"Take it!" the punk replied.

Zhang Ji nodded and turned to walk away.

He didn't even have the mood to waste energy finishing off a low-life like him with another strike.

After walking a certain distance, he glanced back with a vague sense of intuition, only to see that the punk not only hadn't run away, but was actively stripping the valuables off his dead companions, then slumped right down onto the ground to smoke that mysterious tobacco.

Zhang Ji found it all utterly absurd.

Back on Shanli Island, he had been fortunate enough to end up in the relatively stable Kui District, so he had never experienced an environment like this.

At most, he had only witnessed such sights later on during the turf wars.

But to truly experience it firsthand was a first for him.

The people here simply didn't care about tomorrow, nor could they see any future for themselves.

That was why everyone was either indulging in or escaping the present moment, striving with all their might to seek pleasure, even if endless darkness awaited them just moments after the temporary high.

Because the only reality they knew was pitch black.

Zhang Ji fiddled with the phone, locating the language settings menu, and switched the system language back to the tongue of the Eastern Pole Nation.

Instantly, the phone felt familiar to him.

He even took a moment to check the device's hardware specifications.

The result was far inferior to the phone he used back at the Five Forms Sect.

His previous phone was custom-made, with top-of-the-line chips and even military-grade technology, worth at least twenty thousand or more on the civilian market.

Zhang Ji looked at the crumpled bills in his hand. After a quick online search, he calculated that he had a little over five hundred New Fel coins.

Then he checked the exchange rate.

Five hundred New Fel coins were roughly equivalent to thirteen hundred Eastern Pole Nation currency.

As for local purchasing power, if used purely for food, it could sustain him for a good while.

Zhang Ji walked into a clothing store. The clerk looked at him with a mix of disgust and fear, choosing not to come forward to greet him.

Ignoring the clerk, Zhang Ji walked over to a mirror on his own.

In the reflection, he saw his ragged, tattered self.

His clothes and trousers were torn beyond recognition, and his exposed skin was covered in burns and scars. His face was the same, save for the area around his forehead and eyes, which was slightly better off.

His missing right leg, with its jagged and irregular stump, presented a somewhat visceral sight that induced physical discomfort.

Zhang Ji picked up a long black trench coat from the store rack, priced at three hundred and seventy-one New Fels.

Counting out the money, Zhang Ji placed it on the counter.

"Is this enough?" Zhang Ji asked via the phone's translation app.

"Enough..." the clerk replied.

As Zhang Ji turned to leave, the clerk hesitated, opening and closing his mouth as if wanting to say more.

"Anything else?" Zhang Ji asked through the phone.

"Tip..." the clerk muttered awkwardly.

Zhang Ji ignored him. No service provided, yet he still wanted a tip?

What kind of rule was that?

Donning the black trench coat, which was long enough to cover most of his body, Zhang Ji stepped back out onto the street.

Only at that moment did he feel somewhat adjusted.

Ugliness always had to be concealed beneath a veneer of glamour before humanity could strip away its beastly nature and return to reason and civilization.

Surveying the filthy and chaotic surroundings, Zhang Ji pondered his next course of action.

First and foremost, he needed to find a way to get a prosthetic leg.

Whether it was cybernetics or some other method, he certainly couldn't drag this mutilated body all the way to Roman on foot, could he?

He had seen plenty of punks on the streets earlier with metal cybernetic limbs.

According to online information, the prosthetic technology here was quite advanced; some individuals even went so far as to dismantle perfectly healthy limbs in the pursuit of combat power, replacing them with alloy-crafted bodies.

The most extreme among them replaced everything replaceable—hearts, livers, spleens, lungs, and kidneys could all be swapped out for mechanical counterparts, leaving only their brains as their sole organic possession.

And truthfully, if the technology was reliable, they might as well be considered mechanically evolved in some sense.

Zhang Ji had no intention of undergoing mechanical evolution; he simply wanted to temporarily restore his mobility for the sake of convenience.

Not far away, Zhang Ji encountered a youth with cybernetic implants, leaning against a wall and puffing away on a cigarette.

He stepped forward and used the phone's translation tool to ask, "Tell me, where is the nearest place to get a prosthetic limb replacement?"

There was no response; the person didn't even deign to glance at Zhang Ji.

Zhang Ji figured he had asked the wrong person.

Asking a relatively normal person would probably yield the same result, or perhaps he should just search online?

However, online information was often unreliable and prone to issues...

Inside a fast-food restaurant, Zhang Ji pulled out a banknote and used the translation software to ask, "Is there a place nearby that replaces prosthetics?"

"Prosthetics? Assisted artificial limbs?" The clerk accepted the money and replied, "Dean's Hospital can do replacements. Oh right, Lobo Clinic works too—though it looks a bit rough around the edges, it's cheap and functional!"

"Many thanks!"

Zhang Ji offered his thanks, scrolled through the menu, and used the remaining cash to buy a meal.

A gigantic burger and a large cup of soda.

He couldn't even remember how long it had been since he last ate cooked food.

The greasy burger and high-sugar drink were quickly devoured.

Supporting himself with his wooden stick and following the navigation app, Zhang Ji set off toward Dean's Hospital.

However, on his way there, he happened to spot the Lobo Clinic the clerk had mentioned.

It looked more like a junkyard, with a chaotic pile of metallic scrap heaped outside the entrance and a rusted sign hanging above it.

Seeing this, Zhang Ji couldn't help raising an eyebrow.

Can they even replace prosthetics here?

Just as he intended to walk past, a figure was hurled out from inside the clinic, crashing right down in front of Zhang Ji.

"Daring to muscle in on Dean Gang's business, have you really grown tired of living?"

Two young men emerged from the doorway, holding firearms, covered in tattoos, and bearing visible traces of cybernetic modifications on their right arms.

Their guns were now aimed squarely at the figure lying sprawled at Zhang Ji's feet.

"What are you looking at? Piss off, cripple!"

Zhang Ji had kept the phone's translation running the whole time. Listening to the synthesized voice output from the device, he chuckled.

*Bang! Bang!*

No one saw what happened. The only things suggesting something had occurred were the two shattered firearms lying on the ground and the two figures embedded in the pile of scrap metal, their status between life and death unknown.

Zhang Ji leaned on his wooden stick and prepared to leave.

A hand reached out to grab his leg, but he flicked it away with a strike of his stick.

"Hiss~! Ow, ow, ow~! Mister, mister, don't rush off! You helped me, I can give you money, lots of money... Can you be my bodyguard?"

A rapid-fire stream of words tumbled from the person's mouth, and the phone in Zhang Ji's hand barely managed to translate it in time.

He looked down and saw that the one clutching his left foot was none other than the person who had been thrown out.

A man wearing glasses, looking to be around thirty-odd years old.

"Money..." Zhang Ji murmured.

Originally, he had planned to use brute force to seize a prosthetic limb—simple, violent, and fitting enough for this sort of background.

But now it seemed he might not need to resort to robbery. If he paid for it, perhaps the person would be more diligent, and it would also reduce his own risks.