Cyrus had secured leave from her captain, but now faced a pressing dilemma.

She had no clue where she lived.

Standing aimlessly in the corridor for a few seconds, she spotted a restroom sign ahead. A plan formed in her mind, and she quickly made her way inside.

Once secluded in a stall, Cyrus retrieved the silver bracelet Dr. Huang had given her and strapped it onto her wrist.

The bracelet flickered to life, displaying a string of characters: "Power On."

Then, the characters morphed into a digital clock, 19:38, masquerading as a simple timepiece.

Fumbling with the device like an elderly person baffled by modern smartphones, Cyrus sat on the toilet lid, sweating profusely as she tried to unlock its secrets.

"Help... how does this bracelet not have a single raised button?" She was experiencing firsthand the challenges the elderly faced in a high-tech society. Her only option was to explore the bracelet by touch, hoping to discover its functions.

She pressed a side button.

"Biometric information confirmed." A projected screen appeared, listing the bracelet's features.

"Signal jamming, instant messaging, encrypted networking, location tracking, self-destruct..." Cyrus reviewed each function, a shiver of fear running down her spine, "Hold the power button for three seconds and throw to unleash a blast comparable to a micro bomb?"

So, it was a miniature weapon. Lucky for her, she hadn't held the button too long, or she might have been obliterated on the spot.

Cyrus took out a black chip the size of a fingernail, which, according to Dr. Huang, contained all the information about "Security Officer Cyrus," including her home address.

She placed the chip on the bracelet, and the projected screen read: "Data reading in progress... Complete."

The first page displayed Cyrus's own information.

Cyrus, an orphan whose parents perished years ago in a terror attack on a hover train, received a hefty insurance payout. Using that money, she excelled at Blackwater College, studying Criminal Investigation Technology, and upon graduating, she joined the Enforcement Department as a trainee security officer.

Her current address was in the tranquil Portside District of Blackwater City, at Serenity Street, number 318.

The details on the document were meticulous, outlining her entire life trajectory, inconspicuous habits, and even her bank account and passwords.

Wait a minute! The information showed she had taken out a substantial loan from the bank... But why would she need a loan if she had received a settlement from her parents' accident?

The answer hit Cyrus like a ton of bricks.

It was because the tuition fees at Blackwater College were astronomical! Over two hundred thousand per academic year, and now she was knee-deep in debt, thirty thousand to be exact.

Thirty thousand in debt!

Cyrus's pupils dilated in shock.

Assuming the role of "Security Officer Cyrus" meant inheriting the original's debts—a seemingly inevitable turn of events.

What a classic twist of fate! Not only had she become an undercover operative, but she was also saddled with a thirty-thousand debt!

Cyrus's expression was one of despair. It took her a moment to collect herself before she could proceed.

She continued to navigate the bracelet, now tapping into encrypted networking to search: "How to get from the Enforcement Building to Serenity Street in the Portside District?"

The search results popped up.

"Take the number 13 hover train directly from Enforcement Building Station to Serenity Street Station." Cyrus breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the wonders of advanced networking. When in doubt, a quick search always seemed to be the right move.

The documents indicated "Security Officer Cyrus" habitually used the hover train, so she would follow suit to get home.

Dr. Huang had provided over two hundred pages of data, including not just Cyrus's but also others', like the recently met Captain Shu Xuyao and her fellow squad members from Field Team Seven. Cyrus had carefully read through her own profile and skimmed through the others, then deactivated the bracelet's projection.

She couldn't linger here too long; there was plenty of time to delve into the details later.

Cyrus exited the stall and washed her face at the sink.

Glancing in the mirror, she saw her pale reflection, and the mirror's angle offered a view of the wall behind her, adorned with a fire safety map of the Enforcement Building. She studied it closely, confirming the exits before leaving the restroom.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Patrol Security Officer Trainee Cyrus, are you experiencing discomfort due to weakness from surgery?" The voice of AI Adam suddenly intruded. "I've noticed you've been in the restroom for an extended period. Given your condition, if you don't emerge within a minute, I will alert the nearest staff member to check on you, in case you've fainted."

Cyrus: "...?"

Was this AI serious? Even her bathroom breaks were monitored?

"I do feel slightly unwell," Cyrus maintained her composure.

"Do you require me to call the Medical Center?" Adam inquired.

Cyrus was at a loss for words: "No, it's fine... I'll just rest at home."

Adam persisted, "Would you need someone to accompany you home?"

Cyrus puzzled over whether Adam was more of an AI butler than just intelligence.

"Thank you for the offer," she declined, "I can manage on my own."

"You don't need to thank me. Serving you is part of my duty," Adam replied.

Heading home alone carried the risk of getting lost, but being accompanied increased the risk of her identity being exposed, so she chose to venture out solo.

Cyrus followed the map she had memorized to the elevator and descended to the ground floor.

The lobby was spacious, with a receptionist at the front desk. Stepping into the lobby, she looked out through the glass doors.

Rain poured outside, blurring the view with a veil of gray.

As she approached, the glass doors slid open silently, the humidity of the storm hitting her face.

"Please remember to take an umbrella in the rainy weather, and have a pleasant journey," the ever-dutiful AI reminded her.

Touching... Cyrus silently grabbed a black umbrella from a common rack by the door and stepped into the downpour.

Looking up at the sky, the raindrops soaked her pants as neon lights flooded her vision.

She was amidst a forest of steel, where towering buildings loomed over her like giants. Hover trains snaked between them on urban tracks, hunting like serpents through the forest.

Gigantic and vivid electronic screens adorned the facades of skyscrapers, cycling through advertisements that dazzled the eyes. A hovercraft flew past, trailing a banner that glowed with vibrant colors.

Massive and lifelike holographic figures projected into the air, with the actors in the ads speaking in enticing tones: "Rick Technology, leading the edge in bionic mechanical engineering, crafting personalized prosthetics just for you."

Rain pattered on Cyrus's umbrella as she snapped out of her brief reverie.

Her gaze pierced through the rain, observing the people hurrying by in the storm.

They were dressed variously—some in sharp suits, others in simple attire, and a few in flashy garb or tattered clothes. Yet under the rain, they all seemed the same, drenched and bedraggled.

Cyrus surveyed her surroundings, spotting a sign for the hover train station nearby. She headed in that direction.

A few others waited at the station. Cyrus blended into the crowd, waiting for the train alongside them.

Glancing around, she noticed many with mechanical limbs. The middle-aged man beside her had a mechanical hand, with a micro-display mounted on its back, showing the time. The girl on the right side was blowing bubbles, both of her legs replaced with prosthetics.

To the public, these enhancements were normal, and no one cast strange looks at those with mechanical limbs.

After about three minutes, the hover train arrived, its doors sliding open.

Passengers boarded one by one, with the recognition system chiming in: "Facial recognition complete, payment successful... Facial recognition complete, payment successful..."

When it was Cyrus's turn, she stepped forward, and the machine intoned without change: "Facial recognition complete, payment successful."

Cyrus relaxed, finding a seat in the train car.

Rain tapped rhythmically against the windows as she watched the outside world. The vibrant neon lights reflected different halos, illuminating her eyes.

Such opulence and ubiquitous high-tech projections were unseen in her first world. Dazzled by the brilliant colors, Cyrus was awestruck yet apprehensive.

This world was a seductive poppy—beautiful but fraught with danger.

Cyrus glanced at her wristwatch; the time was now 20:12.

Night had fallen, but Blackwater City was far from silent. The neon lights and projections became even more abundant, the rain failing to dampen the bustle.

Cyrus was an outsider looking in, observing this new world. She read every flickering word on each advertisement, studied every passing hovercraft and drone swarm.

As the hover train pierced through the rain curtain and the grand holographic displays, the reflections in Cyrus's eyes shifted with the changing vistas outside.

She whispered to herself, "Here I am, new world."

...

"Portside District, Serenity Street, arriving. Please prepare to disembark and ensure you have all your belongings."

Cyrus opened her umbrella and stepped off the train. The doors closed behind her, and the sights that greeted her were starkly different from before.

The Portside District's Serenity Street was shrouded in darkness, devoid of neon and billboards, with only mismatched residential buildings and dimly lit budget convenience stores on either side. The uneven road was dotted with puddles.

Compared to the bustling area surrounding the Enforcement Building, the Portside District's Serenity Street was significantly more run-down. Yet, its dilapidation evoked a sense of familiarity in Cyrus.

The advanced technology and the clamorous urban districts constantly reminded Cyrus she was an outsider, while the modest Serenity Street gave her the false impression of coming home, as the old neighborhood she had lived in for years in her first world looked much the same—worn, dim, with broken streetlights and a corner store that stayed lit late into the night.

She recalled the navigation map she had checked earlier and set off in the direction of her supposed home.

She hadn't walked far when a whiskey bottle shattered at her feet. She paused, spotting a drunken old man slumped in the corner, mumbling obscenities before passing out mid-rant.

Stepping over the shattered glass, Cyrus observed the walls plastered with colorful graffiti.

"Cops out of our homes!" One mural screamed in bold red, capped off with a bloody skull.

'Cops,' a term of disdain for city law enforcers.

Cyrus knew of this term from old movies.

The residents of Serenity Street seemed to have a particular distaste for outsiders, especially enforcers. And the street's security... seemed quite dire. Dirty, chaotic, the walls were tagged with graffiti, and drunken men lay in the streets unchecked.

The fleeting sense of home vanished from Cyrus's heart; her old neighborhood might have been outdated, but it was clean, with garbage trucks making daily rounds.

She continued on, the street's few pedestrians scarce.

Navigating through grimy alleys, Cyrus tried to pinpoint the way home. As she was about to leave the alley, she saw a guy in a hoodie not too far ahead. Just as she was about to approach him for directions, two men suddenly appeared around the corner, blocking her path.

They cornered Cyrus, brandishing small knives with a menacing growl, "Hand it over, this is a stick-up!"

The hoodie guy, hearing the commotion, glanced back, then bolted away with a speed that would put rabbits to shame.

Cyrus: ...So much for 'Serenity' Street!