Shehui Ni Hongjie

Feng Jun was startled by the deafening bang and flying sparks. He instinctively backed up two steps. When he heard the shouting outside and glanced at the charger, now charred black, he turned and walked away as though nothing had happened.

Only after reaching the restroom did he inspect the phone in his hand. There seemed to be no damage on its surface. Even at the charging port, half a centimeter of blackened charging cable still hung there.

What really stood out was his left hand, the one that had held the phone. It had been blackened somewhat by the electric arc and looked rather unsightly.

He carefully washed his hands twice with hand soap. Only after making sure there was no visible abnormality did he clutch his phone and stroll leisurely toward the fitness hall.

Everyone in the hall had already crowded around the entrance to watch the commotion. The city power grid's transformer stood outside Hongjie Club, less than a hundred meters from the club's entrance, and black smoke was now billowing from it.

"This is seriously bad luck," said Xiao Li, the receptionist at the front desk, sipping soybean milk through a straw as she pointed at the transformer. "A transformer was just struck by lightning and wrecked yesterday. They only replaced it in the middle of the night, and now this one's broken too!"

"The wires probably weren't connected properly," Zhao Qi, the little fatty, said as he swayed his head beside her and pretended to be an expert. He analyzed it with great seriousness. "Otherwise, it's early in the morning, not even peak electricity usage. Why would it blow up?"

Xiao Li shot him two huge eye-rolls and retorted stubbornly, "Maybe it was some shoddy counterfeit product. What wouldn't those people at the power bureau do?"

"The hell are you two talking about?" A roar came from the distance, followed by the sight of a burly man in a blue uniform walking over.

Blue Elf was deeply displeased by Xiao Li and Zhao Qi's wild speculation. In his view, the station had worked through the night to repair the transformer, and that had already been exhausting. Yesterday's thunderstorm had damaged electrical equipment and facilities in many places.

He had been busy until now and had not even had time to sleep. Hearing someone question their professionalism, even casually slapping them with the label of "shoddy counterfeit goods," he could not help flying into a rage. "Maybe your club's electricity consumption is too high."

Since Zhao Qi was pretending to be an expert, he naturally had something to say. He snorted disdainfully. "Our club has its own circuit breakers. If it were our problem, our breakers would have tripped first. Don't tell me you don't even understand that?"

Feng Jun stood not far away, listening to them bicker while taking out his phone to inspect it. Only then did he discover that the phone still had twelve bars of battery—no more, no less.

Maybe I used a fake charger! he grumbled inwardly. But in the next moment, when his gaze swept over his wrist, he froze. The Stone Ring Mark had changed from a barely visible pale cyan to a somewhat deeper shade.

Could it be that this transformer exploded because my body absorbed an enormous current?

It was only a guess, but without question, simply charging an old-fashioned phone could not have caused such serious consequences.

As for why the club's breaker had not tripped while the municipal transformer had exploded instead, Feng Jun could not offer any reasonable explanation. After all, he was a liberal arts monk and did not know much about science and engineering.

Seeing that the Stone Ring Mark's color had deepened slightly, Feng Jun could not help wanting to find somewhere secluded and try entering the farm. The urge was truly hard to restrain.

In the end, however, he held himself back. What helped him make up his mind were the ten plots of mature pasture in the farm.

His last painful experience of "grabbing grass" had left a deep impression on him. He felt it would be safer to conduct the test during the lunch break.

After enduring until noon with great difficulty, Feng Jun hid in the restroom again and brought up the farm interface. Just as he was about to tap the giant hand, he suddenly saw a line of text float across the screen: "'Shehui Ni Hongjie' stole fifteen stalks of pasture."

Feng Jun paused, then shook his head with a bitter smile and decisively tapped the giant hand.

The next instant, the scene before his eyes changed, and he entered that strange farm space once more.

"So entering this space requires charging myself first," Feng Jun finally realized.

Then he reached toward his pants pocket. He wanted to see whether the cigarettes and lighter he had deliberately tucked into his pocket had come in with him.

After grabbing grass for too long, he was bound to get tired. At a time like that, being able to sit by the edge of the field and light a cigarette to ease his fatigue would be so satisfying that even an immortal would not trade it away.

And the place where he would be smoking was Liaoliao Farm. That sense of accomplishment... was simply beyond words.

Unfortunately, Feng Jun felt around himself for quite a while, yet he actually... could not find where his pockets were.

Lowering his head, he found that he could not even make out the color of the clothes he was wearing, much less their style.

He was certain he was wearing clothes, yet he simply did not know what he was wearing. If he had not been looking for cigarettes, he might not even have noticed how strange his clothes were.

The sensation was exceedingly bizarre, yet somehow it also gave him the feeling that this was exactly how things ought to be.

Feng Jun let out a heavy sigh. "Looks like I really exist in the form of data."

Still, since it was a lucky encounter, he could not demand too much. In the entire world, who else could enter the internet in the form of data?

After looking around, he sighed heavily again. "Damn it... time to grab grass again. What a huge patch. Next time, I'll only plant one plot."

In truth, entering Liaoliao Farm in the form of data had dealt him a heavy blow. Six hours later, when he appeared in a restroom stall, he could not help muttering, "Storage space... so that's gone too."

He had already thought it through. If this space could bring external objects inside, would that not be a ready-made storage bag?

In the real world, if someone had a storage bag on them at all times, would their future life not be absurdly easy?

He had even calculated what supplies he ought to smuggle in if his guess about the storage bag proved true, so he could maximize his benefits.

What was hateful was... this space could not bring external objects inside!

Feng Jun sat on the toilet, wallowing in self-pity for quite a while. Only then did he find a reason to make himself feel less miserable: he still did not know enough about this lucky encounter. There would definitely be even greater surprises waiting for him in the future.

Just as he gathered himself and prepared to open the door, someone violently pounded on the thin door panel. A clamor came from outside the partition. "Damn it, you've been in there forever. Aren't you afraid you'll shit your intestines out?"

Feng Jun rose and opened the door. Looking at Liu Shuming outside, he frowned slightly. "Are you hungry?"

Coach Liu was stunned at first, then flew into a fury and reached out to grab him. "Brat, you're courting death!"

Feng Jun looked at him coldly without saying a word. He had long been annoyed with this man. If the other dared to make a move, he absolutely would not mind letting him know why flowers were so red.

All Hongjie employees knew that Liu Shuming was no match for Wang Haifeng in combat, but very few knew that Wang Haifeng was no match for Feng Jun.

Feng Jun was around one meter seventy-three, not particularly tall, but he was very solidly built and weighed a full one hundred fifty jin. Though he looked as if he had quite a bit of excess flesh at first glance, he was strong and fairly agile.

In fact, when Feng Jun graduated from college two years ago, he had weighed less than one hundred twenty jin. During university, his love for exercise had been well known. Long-distance running, swimming, fighting—there was nothing he was not skilled at.

Tragically, in the two years since graduation, he had been rushing about all day just to survive. To earn money and get married, he had been exhausted like a dog every day, with no time at all to exercise.

For someone accustomed to high-intensity training, once they stopped exercising, excess flesh would pile on rapidly. That was the natural order of things.

But he had built up a foundation in the end. Two years was not enough to completely ruin it.

Moreover, after coming to Hongjie, although his position was rather stifling, he had gained some free time to work out. The equipment was readily available, and he was gradually recovering his former condition.

Liu Shuming grabbed Feng Jun by the collar and yanked hard. When he found that he could not move him, he raised his hand, ready to throw a punch.

However, seeing the other man's utterly fearless expression, he paused. Then he bared his teeth in a grin and spoke viciously. "You dare curse me? Wang Haifeng can't blame me if I beat you up!"

His words sounded harsh, but they could not conceal his guilty unease.

Feng Jun lifted his eyelids and said coldly, "Let go."

Liu Shuming released him instinctively. He was exactly the kind of person who bullied the weak and feared the strong, enough to make one's teeth ache with contempt.

Watching Feng Jun brush past him and head toward the restroom exit as though nothing had happened, Coach Liu could not help spitting. "Pah! You dare tell me to eat shit... brat, just you wait!"

Feng Jun stopped, turned back to look at him, and said expressionlessly, "I said I was hungry... I'm going to eat."

After saying that, he no longer looked at the other man's expression and walked out on his own.

Liu Shuming froze for a moment before snorting coldly. He entered the stall and slammed the toilet door shut. "A bastard who only knows how to run his mouth!"

How could Feng Jun have known that he had acquired such an impression? In truth, after grabbing grass from ten plots, he had fallen into that state of extreme hunger again.

Hongjie Club had a small cafeteria that served employee meals at noon, but after hesitating, Feng Jun still went to that hole-in-the-wall restaurant for an extra meal. He had a feeling that his appetite today would still not be small.

Sure enough, he devoured three large bowls of fried noodles, two plates of vegetarian dishes, and five chicken legs again. As for sliced beef and offal in chili sauce, he did not order it again—one serving cost thirty-five yuan, enough to buy four and a half chicken legs.

Although he already had a lucky encounter in hand, before he found a way to turn it into money, he felt he could not indulge himself.

At worst, he could drink a few more bowls of noodle soup to fill the gaps. What was the big deal?

When paying the bill, the restaurant owner still looked at him strangely.

Feng Jun could not take it anymore. "Boss, you run a restaurant. Are you scared of a big eater?"

The owner frowned, hesitated, then decided to tell the truth. "Haven't you noticed that there's a strange smell coming off you?"