Chapter 1 Beautiful West Coast

The West Coast sunset was still pretty nice.

Allen Zhang sat on the lawn by the street, feeling the breeze brushing his face, the temperature neither too restless nor too hot, yet he kind of felt like dying.

In his hand, he held a bottle of Dr. Pepper, cherry-flavored, which he got for free from a relief station. He remembered this stuff wasn't cheap back in his homeland in the past life. The taste was really nothing to compliment, no wonder they gave it out to the homeless to drink.

The streets of Los Angeles were busy with people coming and going, commercial buildings two or three stories high, their walls painted in pale goose yellow and rose red, the 24-hour supermarkets, discount clothing stores, street views, sidewalks, traffic lights.

And... the relief stations with long lines at the door, colorful graffiti walls, cracked pavement, and homeless people leaning against walls near the omnipresent trash cans.

The air was filled with stenches, scents, and the smell of smoke, a mix of various odors.

What couldn't be ignored was that starting today, he was also one of them.

Ghost knows why he opened his eyes and found himself on the West Coast.

No dog for the start, no identity, not even a tent. Only wearing a pair of beach shorts and without shoes.

What a hell of an urban survival mode start!!

He took a sip of the hardly swallowable cherry-flavored soda and grimaced as he squeezed the bottle smaller.

After thinking it over, he decided to take advantage of the shelters and food trucks on Poor Street that were still open, and go line up to freeload another two bottles of Dr. Pepper and a big bottle of wall-mounted water.

He didn't feel any guilt about it.

The money had already been paid by the old lady.

[Daily Info: Every Wednesday, you can go to shelter number 326 to receive a free new smartphone, basic personal information registration required.]

[Daily Info: A homeless man died in an alley on 25th Street in Fifth Street District, and he has 4 US Dollars and 50 cents in his right pocket.]

[Daily Info: The Bari relief food truck will provide beef spaghetti meals, freshly squeezed juice, and chilled fruit platters on Maki Street at 18:30.]

[Daily Info Weight: Grade E. Based on current social status and assets, a maximum of three random daily life or street gang activities related will be provided. The scope includes relief stations, recycling centers, business activities, personal privacy, day jobs, gang transactions, etc.]

[Life Skills: Driving Skill lv.2 (Amateur), Mixed Martial Arts lv.3 (Professional), Shooting Skill lv.0 (Novice)…]

He took out his Chinese-brand cell phone, which had no signal. He opened an App called "Simulated Life."

The GTA game mirrored into reality, folks.

Luckily, he understood English and didn't have to play mute.

This app mysteriously appeared on Allen Zhang's phone, couldn't be uninstalled, but could be transferred to other electronic devices he owned. Such as sports bracelets, iPads, tablets, liquid crystal glasses, etc.

Great, I have already dreamed that in the far future, I bought a private island in Columbia Bay and named it Perico, where I have all the top-tier blue planet tech talents and heavy firepower, commanding respect and dominating the region. Sitting in my own bunker and watching satellites position to command the sky-based cannons to flatten the United States! (Not really)

As for now, he'd better obediently go get the relief meal and figure out where to stay the night.

Collect a free smartphone.

This kind of routine was no different from getting a free hair wash with a card sign-up, a common occurrence in California and other areas, and that's how a lot of personal information gets leaked.

Cheap goods aren't good quality, and you should never believe that pie will just fall out of the sky.

Allen Zhang had just stood up, ready to find a bin to stuff the bottle into when a white boy with a black trash bag full of cans and clear plastic bottles came up beside him.

"Hey, man, can I have your bottle?"

Man? Woman?

Allen hesitated for a moment.

"I'm Dominic, and I know what you're thinking, dude! I am a guy."

The white boy's face radiated kindness and had blond hair, delicate features, and no Adam's apple. He was wearing a greyish-white Adidas hoodie, slightly worn light-grey jeans, and black sneakers.

He smiled and reached out for the can, "Can you give me the can? I need this."

"I'm Allen."

Zhang decisively handed over the bottle, proficiently replying in English, "I mean no disrespect, but you sure are good-looking, buddy! If you hadn't said anything, I really couldn't have told your gender. Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like Bern Anderson?"

"Thanks. Who's that?" Dominic took the can, asking with some confusion.

"An actor who looked like an angel when he was young and like God when he got older."

"Wo～"

Dominic hadn't heard of him, but indeed, the descriptions of an angel and God intrigued him.

But he didn't get too excited, shook his head, "Thanks for the compliment, but I don't actually like the way I look, you know. There are a lot of homeless people in Fifth Street District, and people like me on the streets have to be careful and can't be silly because a lot of people purposely look for trouble with you, bully you, wanting to get to your back door!"

Zhang agreed with his words strongly.

Because even a man like him with normal sexual orientation found the other guy pretty and wanted to touch his face, let alone those who are gay.

"Dude, what's your situation now? Are you homeless?" Allen felt puzzled.

Dominic saw he was a talkative person, with an Asian face, and handsome at that, so he put down the garbage bag he was holding and sat down next to him.

"It's nothing much, just that my relationship with my mom isn't good, and we often argue. I don't really like living in that house, so I ran away from home," he said.

Allen Zhang was astonished, "Really? Maybe you could try to reconcile with your family. It's better than wandering alone outside."

Dominic shrugged his shoulders, "It's complicated. While my dad was still alive, my mom cheated on him, and after he passed, she often brought people home. Sometimes Asians, sometimes Mexicans, Black people, Indians; she'd drink and party with them at home, getting high, making so much noise that the neighbors couldn't sleep, and they would frequently call to report her. She completely disregarded my feelings."

"I couldn't stand it anymore and chose to run away. During these two and a half years living on the streets, she hasn't once looked for me. I think that she might be better off without me."

"..."

Allen Zhang didn't know what to say for a moment.

"Your decision might not have been wrong... "

But running away from home doesn't seem much better.

Relying on shelters and public welfare relief might ensure you don't starve to death, but living outdoors makes it easy to pick up bad habits and encounter many nasty people.

The damn United States' happy education.

Many young homeless people on the streets have families too, but due to various reasons and dysfunctional family issues, they are forced to leave home. In the end, they all end up the same way: either constantly in and out of jail for petty crimes, or becoming debtors or addicts.

Once homeless, always homeless.

"Dominic, are you of legal age?" Allen Zhang asked, a bit curious.

"Don't underestimate me, okay? My real age is nineteen."

Dominic smiled, "You wouldn't think my other Texas Driver's License says I'm 26."

"Oh, then you're free to come and go from clubs and bars," laughed Allen Zhang.

The United States.

The beacon of civilization.

A nation awash with fake IDs.

Over half of the students in schools have fake IDs, mostly used to buy cigarettes and alcohol, stay in hotels, enter bars and clubs - there are so many that they simply can't all be checked.

As long as you're not a foolish 17-year-old white high school student using a 21-year-old Black person's Driver's License ID to buy alcohol at a convenience store claiming to have vitiligo, you should be fine.

The police don't care about this stuff; it's the Immigration Bureau's domain. But they don't wander the streets from their offices, so there's basically no enforcement.

Unless you do something stupid like bomb the Pentagon, nobody's going to bother investigating you, a worthless loser.

"Just like many people say, in the real world, the United States only has a population of three hundred million, but online, there are over a billion registered citizens and identities. Where are the other seven hundred million? Are they ghosts?" said Allen Zhang with a laugh.

"That's right, that's how it is, welcome to the free West Coast!" Dominic bumped fists with him.

"Thanks for the warm welcome, buddy, but if I could choose, I'd still rather be lying in my own bed sleeping in," Allen Zhang said with a hint of resignation.

Even a rotten ship has three pounds of nails.

The West Coast is not such a good place.

"Dominic, if it's okay to ask, where did you get your Texas ID?" inquired Allen Zhang.

"Of course. It's no secret."

Dominic candidly said, "You just need to go online, log into OnlyFake website, and pay 15 US dollars. Use the neural network and generator to create a California Driver's License that looks real, including any name, personal information, address, expiration date, and signature you specify."

"Then you can successfully apply for California online bank cards, drive, transfer property ownership, buy cigarettes and alcohol, verify real names on social apps, log into e-commerce platforms, and undergo facial recognition at cryptocurrency exchanges, among other things."

"Offline it's a bit trickier, the barcodes and passport chips require more professional equipment to create, and you also need to find more skilled people to print them. Fake documents can be easily recognized by the Immigration Bureau's network checks."

"However, in most cases, as long as you don't travel abroad, don't run around everywhere, and are not a state wanted criminal, no one will bother checking you online."

Teaching how to get fake identification could land you in serious trouble in other countries! But this is the United States.

The Chief of Police himself has a bunch of messy IDs, and politicians typically choose to ignore sensitive issues.

Since the advent of AI, the effect of fakes has become increasingly rampant. Online outweighs offline, foreign identities are valued over domestic, and out-of-state IDs are preferred over in-state because the farther the distance, the less effort there is to check.

In the past, you had to rely on Photoshop to meticulously create details before printing them out and packaging them. Now, with AI programming, exploiting loopholes has become unbeatable.

However, a fake is still a fake, and even a very realistic fake is still counterfeit. If you want a real, legitimate identity, you only have the option to spend money and go through the proper channels; those are the rules of the bald eagle.

Allen Zhang has just arrived, with neither money nor connections. Getting a Fake at least allows him to fool regular departments.

[Forgery Skills lv.0: Dominic has taught you some relevant techniques.]

Free America, gunfights every day.