Red Sister, the Real Deal

Feng Jun was startled by the tremendous bang and shower of sparks, instinctively backing up two steps. When he heard the shouts outside and saw the charger reduced to a blackened lump, he turned and walked away as if nothing had happened.

Only after reaching the restroom did he inspect the phone in his hand. There was no visible damage to its surface; half a centimeter of charred charging cable even remained stuck in the charging port.

What really stood out was his left hand, which had been holding the phone. It had been blackened by the electric arc and looked rather unsightly.

He carefully washed his hands twice with hand soap. Only after making sure there was nothing unusual visible on them did he grip his phone and slowly head toward the fitness hall.

Everyone in the hall had already crowded around the entrance to watch the commotion. The city grid transformer was right outside Hongjie Club, less than a hundred meters from its front gate, and black smoke was now billowing from it.

"This is seriously bad luck," Little Li, the receptionist, said as she sipped soy milk through a straw and pointed at the transformer. "Lightning wrecked one yesterday, and they only replaced it in the middle of the night. Now it's broken again!"

"The wiring probably wasn't connected properly." The chubby Zhao Qi shook his head, pretending to be an expert as he analyzed the situation solemnly. "Otherwise, it's early in the morning and not even peak electricity usage. Why would it blow up?"

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

"What the hell are you two talking about?" A furious roar came from the distance, followed by a man in a blue uniform striding over.

Smurf was deeply offended by Little Li and Zhao Qi's wild accusations. In his view, the station had worked through the night repairing the transformer, which had already been exhausting. Yesterday's thunderstorm had damaged electrical equipment in multiple locations.

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

Since Zhao Qi was playing the expert, naturally he had a response. He snorted disdainfully. "Our club has its own circuit breaker. If the problem were on our end, ours would have tripped first. Don't tell me you don't even understand that?"

Feng Jun stood nearby, listening to them argue while flipping through his phone. Only then did he realize that the battery was still at twelve bars, neither more nor less.

I might have used a fake charger! he grumbled inwardly. But the next instant, his gaze swept over his wrist, and he froze. The Stone Ring imprint had changed from an almost imperceptible pale blue to a slightly darker shade.

Could the transformer have exploded because my body absorbed an enormous current?

It was only a guess, but one thing was certain: 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 city transformer had exploded instead, Feng Jun had no reasonable explanation. After all, he was a humanities major and did not know much about science and engineering.

Seeing that the Stone Ring imprint had darkened slightly, Feng Jun could not help wanting to find somewhere secluded and try entering the farm. The urge was truly difficult to restrain.

In the end, though, 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 "grasping 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 slipped into the restroom again. He brought up the farm interface and was just about to tap the giant hand when he suddenly noticed a line of text floating across the screen: "'Red Sister, the Real Deal' stole fifteen stalks of pasture grass."

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

The next moment, 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 put there had come in with him.

Grasping grass for too long would inevitably become tiring. At times like that, being able to sit by the edge of a field and light up a cigarette to ease the fatigue would be a comfort not even immortals could trade for.

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

Unfortunately, after feeling around himself for a long time, Feng Jun discovered that he could not... find where his pockets were.

He lowered his head and looked, only to find 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, but he had no idea what he was wearing. If not for searching for cigarettes, he might never even have noticed how strange his clothes were.

The feeling was extremely bizarre, yet it somehow also made him feel that this was only natural.

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

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

He looked around, then sighed heavily again. "Damn... it's time to grasp grass again. Such 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, he appeared in a restroom stall and could not stop muttering, "Storage space... so there's none of that after all."

He had long thought it through. If this space could bring outside objects in, would that not make it a ready-made storage bag?

In the real world, anyone carrying a storage bag around with them would have an incredibly easy life in the future.

He had even considered what supplies he should smuggle in if the storage bag theory proved true, so he could maximize his profits.

The hateful part was... this space could not bring outside objects in!

Feng Jun sat on the toilet, feeling sorry for himself for quite a while before finally finding a reason not to feel so bad: 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 collected himself and prepared to open the door, someone violently pounded on the thin stall door. A shout came through the partition. "Damn it, you've been in there forever. Aren't you afraid you'll shit your guts out?"

Feng Jun stood 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 rage and reached out to grab him. "You little punk, you've got a death wish!"

Feng Jun looked at him coldly without saying a word. He was already thoroughly annoyed with this man. If Liu Shuming dared lay a hand on him, Feng Jun would not mind showing him why flowers were so red.

Everyone at Hongjie knew Liu Shuming was not as capable in a fight as Wang Haifeng, 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 extremely solidly built, weighing a full seventy-five kilograms. At first glance, he seemed to carry quite a bit of excess fat, but he was strong and remarkably agile.

In fact, when Feng Jun graduated from university two years ago, he weighed less than sixty kilograms. During college, he had been famous for loving exercise, excelling at long-distance running, swimming, and fighting alike.

Tragically, in the two years after graduation, he had spent every day struggling to survive and earn money for marriage, exhausted like a dog. He simply had no time to work out.

For someone accustomed to intense exercise, once they stopped training, excess fat would accumulate rapidly. That was a natural law.

But he still had a solid foundation. Two years was not enough to completely destroy what he had built up.

Moreover, after joining Hongjie, although his position was rather stifling, he had gained some free time to exercise, and the equipment was readily available. He was gradually recovering his former condition.

Liu Shuming grabbed his collar and yanked hard. When he found he could not move him, he raised his hand to throw a punch.

However, seeing Feng Jun's fearless expression, he hesitated. Then he bared his teeth in a grin and said viciously, "You dare insult me? Even Wang Haifeng can't blame me for beating you up!"

His words were fierce, but they could not conceal his guilt.

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

Liu Shuming instinctively released him. He was exactly that sort of bully who feared the strong and preyed on the weak, thoroughly contemptible.

As Feng Jun brushed past him and headed toward the restroom exit as though nothing had happened, Coach Liu could not help spitting on the ground. "Pah! You dare tell me to eat shit? Kid, just you wait!"

Feng Jun stopped and glanced back, his expression blank. "I said I was hungry... I'm going to eat."

After saying that, he ignored Liu Shuming's expression and walked out on his own.

Liu Shuming paused before snorting coldly. He stepped into the stall and slammed the toilet door shut. "A bastard who only knows how to flap his gums!"

How could Feng Jun have known that he had somehow earned that impression? In truth, after grasping grass from ten plots, he had fallen into that abnormal state of extreme hunger again.

Hongjie Club had a small cafeteria that served employee meals at noon, but after hesitating, Feng Jun went to that shabby little restaurant for an extra meal instead. He had a feeling that his appetite today would still be far from small.

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

Though he had already gained a lucky encounter, before finding 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. So what?

When it came time to pay, the restaurant owner was still looking at him strangely.

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

The owner frowned, hesitated, then decided to tell the truth. "Haven't you noticed that you smell kind of strange?"