"Are you already tired of this ordinary world and the boring life?"

Wang Zheng, wearing a white coat, clicked 'yes' with a mocking expression. Suddenly, everything went black, and he felt himself engulfed by darkness in an inexplicable sensation as if his soul were being drawn away by some mysterious force.

His last thought before everything went black was—("Damn! This isn't some scam advertisement.")

A knocking sound echoed, breaking the darkness.

Struggling to open his eyes, Wang Zheng was greeted by a series of faint blue prompts: ["Ding, welcome to the world of freedom."] Wang Zheng blinked in surprise, feeling a warm surge wash over him.

Another, louder knocking followed, indicating the person at the door had lost patience.

With a sudden burst of energy, Wang Zheng pushed himself up. The sense of weakness and emptiness from before dissipated.

Taking in his surroundings, he found himself in a small, unsettling room with a metal-framed bed where he had just been lying, and a metal table with various tools whose names he didn't recognize.

His eyes narrowed at the sight of a particularly metallic-looking handgun on the table, its barrel length and thickness indicating significant firepower.

Picking up the gun, a series of faint blue messages appeared before him:

[Item Name] Judge II [Category] Handgun [Capacity] 16/17 [Description] A decently powerful classic handgun, worthy of collection.

The knocking at the door ceased, but the door lock began to turn.

Wang Zheng didn't hesitate to raise the gun, aiming it at the door.

With a metallic click, the metal door slid open to reveal a burly man standing before Wang Zheng. As thoughts of firearms basics flashed through Wang Zheng's mind, he instinctively released the gun's safety and chambered a round, emitting a faint click.

Seeing Wang Zheng aiming the gun, the burly man raised his hands. "Hey, hey! Don't shoot! Wang Zheng, this joke isn't funny."

Frowning at the burly man, Wang Zheng's mind swirled with confusion. He might not know how to use a gun, but why did his muscle memory handle it so deftly?!

Glancing at the metallic wires embedded in the door frame, Wang Zheng asked, "Why did you break my door!?"

The burly man looked at Wang Zheng strangely. "I knocked so hard, and you didn't answer. I thought you were dead."

Furrowing his brow, Wang Zheng muttered, "Dead?"

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The burly man grumbled, "Looks like your bio-brain assist program has some issues... Anyway, Wang Zheng, you better check your head. You've been acting weird today. It's not just the 3,000 credits driving you crazy, right?"

Lowering the gun, Wang Zheng's expression was inscrutable. "I seem to... have forgotten a lot of things."

The burly man gave a resigned look. "I told you, don't trust old Jack's nonsense. After this job, go get yourself checked by a doctor. It's for your own good."

Wang Zheng tightened his grip on the gun, his expression showing a mix of hesitation. "Who are you?"

The burly man shrugged, a hint of resignation in his expression. "Hans Wengel. If you can still move, we need to make a delivery."

"A delivery?" Wang Zheng asked, uncertain.

Hans nodded. "Yes, it's a big order. Let's go, buddy!"

Wang Zheng's mind churned, vaguely recalling memories not his own, then suddenly his head throbbed with pain.

Grasping his forehead, his body swayed.

Hans, somewhat nervously, supported Wang Zheng, concern evident in his voice. "Wang Zheng, are you okay?"

Wang Zheng's face contorted in pain, sweat beading on his forehead. "I feel... uncomfortable. Can we skip today?"

Hans fell silent for a moment, then whispered, "We can't! Wang Zheng, this is your last chance. Finish this job, and you'll get 2,000 credits. I'll lend you another 1,000. You'll be free from the Ghost Hand Gang's trouble, buddy! I don't want to collect your corpse."

Wang Zheng's headache gradually subsided, his mind emerging from the intense pain, revealing a pale smile tainted with distress. "Hans, you're right."

Finally, Hans smiled. "Let's go, buddy! Don't forget to bring your weapon."

Following Hans out, Wang Zheng stepped into a world that stunned him.

It was nothing less than a wasteland.

In the distance stood a tall metal tower, several metal columns pointing skyward from its top, beneath which was a massive circular lid resembling a radar.

The surrounding area was littered with parched brown soil, dried weeds, and rolling plant balls blown by the wind.

As far as the eye could see, desolation prevailed.

Wang Zheng instinctively looked back, realizing his room was a modified container.

Hans opened the car door, creating some noise, and shouted from the driver's seat, "Wang Zheng, close your door. And your lock needs changing; it's too old."

Wang Zheng nodded mechanically, pulling the metal door closed. Hearing the metallic click as it shut, he then followed Hans, still dazed, into the car.

It was an old car, adorned with graffiti, exuding an alternative wildness.

As Hans drove, he glanced worriedly at Wang Zheng through the rearview mirror, who was lost in the continuous faint blue prompts, caught between shock and confusion.

[Name] Wang Zheng [Race] Human [Occupation] Scavenger [Status] Poor (Malnutrition)

[Attributes] Physique (7): Determines the body's basic physical strength, allowing for the use of more powerful weapons and prosthetics. Reaction (6): Determines the body's nerve response speed and coordination, slightly improving muscle control. Intelligence (8): Determines the brain's upper limit in processing information, mainly in information processing ability. Calmness (9): Determines the body's resilience; when damaged, it can temporarily suppress negative effects and mitigate adverse effects caused by prosthetics. Technical (8): Represents the application of technological knowledge to the body, mainly in enabling the body to withstand and use certain types of high-tech weapons.

[Skills] Basic Rapid Repair: Can perform the most basic repairs on simple mechanical constructs. Primary Hacking: Proficient in using basic hacking tools. Basic Combat: Acquired from years of wandering, providing some understanding of close combat. Basic Small Arms Proficiency: A skill every scavenger must master for survival.

[Brief Introduction] A wanderer in the wasteland, scavenging scrap yards, plundering oil depots, and eking out a living on the roads. Raised by wanderers, cunning and crafty, adept at seizing opportunities, and deeply in love with freedom.

In addition, there is a personal inventory space of sixteen slots, along with a newcomer's gift pack.

The newcomer's gift pack has a string of notes: Welcome to the world of freedom.