As Long As I Have No Money, No One Can Steal from Me

"Come to think of it, where did these seven dollars of starting capital come from? I don't have any dollars on me."

Ma Zhaodi carefully felt through his pockets and suddenly realized that the more than fifty yuan he'd had in his pocket after buying cigarettes had disappeared.

"Fine, fine. I thought it was free starting money, but it turns out the wool still came from the sheep."

On the bright side, at least his shirt, trousers, and jacket made him look fairly normal in Gotham. There was nothing particularly conspicuous about him.

He sighed and casually bought Basic English Proficiency and Local Identity. Without those two things, his level of English would make it impossible to get anywhere locally. He bought Rapid Life Recovery and Save Point as well.

"Special notice: Subsequent missions may unlock the ability to move Save Points forward. Please do not hesitate to use Save Points; twenty Save Point reloads may be distributed among five different points in time, so please arrange them reasonably. The current time is a safe time point. You will not encounter danger within the next half hour, and you cannot save during this period. Please do not worry."

He looked up at the sky. Thick clouds blocked out the sunlight, and he could only make out from the dim light that it was night. He had no idea what time it actually was. With no other choice, Ma Zhaodi first headed outside the station. He remembered seeing a clock tower from the train. Perhaps he could find out the time after leaving the station.

After taking two more steps, his pace gradually slowed. Just a second ago, the noisy voices coming from every direction inside the station had been incomprehensible racket. But the second after he bought Basic English Proficiency, those voices became fragmented conversations that his brain could understand instinctively, just like the everyday chatter he'd heard back home.

The novelty of it amused Ma Zhaodi, whose English had barely scraped past the sixth level. He thought about some English-related study material and felt his tattered English being patched together by the system. It was now like a beat-up bicycle that didn't work very well but was bizarrely fast.

Of course, that was only because he hadn't adapted to it yet. In reality, his accent and writing were already fairly standard American English. Once he got used to them, the beat-up bicycle would upgrade into a convenient little electric scooter.

Remembering that he should also have a Gotham Local Identity, he searched through his pockets again, only to find that they were as clean as his face.

He searched more carefully and finally discovered that his identification information and documents, including his driver's license and Social Security card, were stored in Starting from Scratch. To take them out, he only had to think about it. Putting them back worked the same way.

"At least it's somewhat user-friendly."

Having never seen a foreign driver's license before, Ma Zhaodi reached into his jacket pocket. A few seconds later, he took out his license and flipped through it curiously a few times before putting it back. He desperately needed to find a way to make a living in Gotham. Otherwise, before gangs, terrorist organizations, assassin groups, supervillains, or ordinary robbers and murderers could kill him, he would first starve to death from having nothing to eat or drink, or freeze to death on the streets because he had nowhere to stay.

After all, he had no idea how homeless people in America usually lived, and Gotham City couldn't possibly have any harmless homeless people.

Of course, he might gradually grow accustomed to the life of a homeless person. After all, he really didn't own any property locally, so becoming homeless wouldn't be strange at all.

It was worth mentioning that although some homeless people could receive welfare after filing federal income tax returns and providing valid bank account information, unfortunately, while the system had provided Ma Zhaodi with an account, he had never earned any money, which meant he had never paid any taxes either.

Only after leaving the bustling platform did Ma Zhaodi truly see the city up close.

Fine rain drizzled down from the sky, draping the city in the night with a thin, hazy veil. Vehicles and motorcycles occasionally sped across the dazzling streets. The lower halves of the dense high-rises around him were shrouded in the city's glow and shadows, while their upper halves disappeared into the darkness. Only the occasional floodlights faintly outlined the buildings' corners.

Thick smoke rose from the factories in the distance, with a low-lying slum right beside them. There was hardly any light among the sprawling, filthy buildings, only the occasional sobbing from the alleys, along with the sounds of beatings and gunshots. Homeless camps were usually found here as well. Filthy people living in crude tents took abandoned factories, spaces beneath bridges, and other derelict buildings as shelter, burning old newspapers or battered books in discarded oil drums to keep warm.

Ma Zhaodi looked into the distance. Between the flickering screens and illuminated signs, the clock tower showed that it was nine o'clock at night. Clearly, he wouldn't be able to find work today. He would have to make it until tomorrow morning.

"This is fucking ridiculous for a starting point."

A late-night breeze swept over, carrying the chill of icy mist. Ma Zhaodi shivered and staggered, involuntarily shoving his hands back into his jacket pockets. He hunched over and tried desperately to think, but he couldn't figure out where he could spend the night. He would surely be driven away from overly prosperous streets, while secluded corners were far more likely to conceal danger.

"Is there really no other way?"

He searched through the system and discovered that it had a shop. Once opened, it contained practically everything that could and couldn't be bought, from everyday food and knives to special abilities and supernatural items. As for the items further down, Ma Zhaodi didn't look at them. He couldn't afford them anyway.

There were only three dollars available in the system. Given the current situation, he would most likely be sleeping on the streets tonight.

Ma Zhaodi browsed the cheaper items in the shop as he walked, then suddenly realized that the driver's license in his pocket was gone.

"?"

He was certain he hadn't put the license away, so it should still have been in his jacket pocket.

"Is it there? Is it there?"

Ma Zhaodi turned his jacket inside out with both hands, but he still couldn't find his driver's license. He was so anxious that he nearly started cursing when his hand suddenly brushed against his trouser pocket.

"?"

"Is it... here?"

It took him several seconds to understand what had happened. He had just arrived in Gotham City, and in the mere hundred meters between leaving the station and reaching this spot, a local thief had robbed him.

Then the thief discovered that his pockets were as clean as his face, so he casually put the driver's license back into his trouser pocket.

It was hilarious. The entire theft had happened without him noticing a thing.

But then again, this had also served as a warning. A skilled thief might be able to steal the money from someone's wallet, the watch on their wrist, or the phone in their pocket, but clearly, they couldn't steal money from a penniless pauper.

As long as he remained completely broke, he was invincible.

If he ran into a robber, perhaps after seeing his empty pockets, the robber might even take out a few dollars out of pity and buy him something to eat.