2: Chapter 2 Infinite Horror System

Chen Mu shook his head, pushing those memory fragments aside.

He had completely realized that he had definitely transmigrated, because this country was called the USA, not the America of his world.

Even his former motherland was called the Big East here.

But even so, the USA of this new world was as terrible as ever.

Jack wasn't a lazy man; he had worked before. He had tried hard, even attempting to pay off those debts that could never be cleared.

But in the end, he died under an obscure bridge tunnel, and his body was taken over by this unlucky fellow.

The reason was that this damn place had an incredibly precise "execution line."

As long as one's savings were less than five thousand dollars, with no medical insurance and no fixed address, once life gave them a kick, they would be "executed" directly from "lower middle class" to "street trash," and it would even affect their descendants.

In this country, there was no middle ground, no safety net; as soon as one misstepped, the ground below was nothing but fucking concrete.

Jack had misstepped, and now it was Chen Mu's turn.

Chen Mu closed his eyes in despair. Before transmigrating, he was just an ordinary person back home, even once on the verge of unemployment.

Expecting him to help a bottom-tier homeless man in the USA change his fate against all odds—wasn't that a joke?

He himself was just lucky to be born in a country with a superior system. But the platform's capability wasn't his own; if he had that kind of talent, he would have been successful back home long ago.

"System! Bro System, are you there? If you are, say something!" Chen Mu shouted like a madman where he stood.

"Fuck you!" A Black guy who had just finished peeing and hadn't walked far yet was startled by Chen Mu and quickly flipped him the bird.

Chen Mu ignored him because he knew the system was his only hope now. Otherwise, his only path was to follow in the footsteps of the original owner.

[Ding! infinite horror system activated.]

Hm? Hearing the unfamiliar mechanical voice in his ear, the corners of Chen Mu's mouth began to curl up uncontrollably.

He knew it! How could there be a transmigration without a cheat code? The God of Web Novels exists! The Failed Author Protection Association exists!

He, Chen Mu, was about to make a comeback.

He was going to trample this shitty world under his feet; from this day on, he would reach the pinnacle of life.

Soon, grayish-white invisible subtitles continuously appeared before his eyes.

[This system is the infinite horror system. Host, please create mysterious phenomena as soon as possible. Whenever a human individual experiences a cognitive shock due to such a phenomenon, the system will absorb energy and quantify it as fear value.]

[The Mystery Mall has opened. The current theme is: ghostly shadows!]

Chen Mu used his mind to click the mall interface in the bottom right corner of the screen, and ghostly green shelves appeared in his field of vision.

Each slot was filled with surging shadows. He turned his gaze to the nearest one.

[Wandering Soul · F-rank]

[Themed Category: ghostly shadows]

[Basic Abilities: Creates a localized low temperature of -5°C, weak mental interference.]

[Price: 10,000 fear value for permanent purchase, 1,000 fear value for a single rental.] Note: Rental validity is twenty-four hours.

He continued scrolling through the mall; it was a dazzling array.

[Earthbound Spirit · E-rank: 30,000.]

[Vengeful Ghost · D-rank: 80,000.]

[Specter in Red · C-rank: 200,000.]

[Sadako Yamamura · B-rank: 1,000,000.]

...

[Styx Ferryman · S-rank: 100,000,000.]

Further back, the shadows on the shelves were so thick they wouldn't dissipate, and even the prices were illegible—only swirling masses of ghostly green that made the back of one's neck go cold.

And when his gaze shifted to the bottom corner of the mall...

[Current fear value: 0]

In an instant, all the excitement faded away.

Looking at the big zero on the system panel, Chen Mu kept asking in his mind, "System, where's the newbie gift pack? If there's no gift pack, at least give some initial fear value! Or maybe a discount?"

"System? Bro System? I... you..."

Chen Mu didn't know how long he had been cursing. It wasn't until the sky outside the bridge tunnel turned from gray to a deeper gray, and then a thin layer of sunlight filtered in, that he finally took a breath.

Not because he didn't want to curse anymore, but because his stomach was already growling with hunger.

He heard the sound of footsteps and voices passing outside the bridge tunnel, and the sound of a car driving through a puddle.

Chen Mu calmed down. His top priority now was to quickly figure out a way to obtain fear value; otherwise, with his current capabilities, he would eventually die here.

The system wanted him to create mysterious phenomena, but he was a complete ordinary person. Where was he supposed to create mysterious phenomena?

His hand reached into his pocket and suddenly touched something hard. Pulling it out, he saw it was a flashlight with a plastic casing and its tail cap wrapped in tape.

He pressed it, and it was quite bright.

Looking at the beam of light, he suddenly remembered how, as a child, a classmate would take a flashlight and shine it upwards from under their chin to create a ghost face to scare him.

Chen Mu shone the beam on his own face, thinking: "If I go scare those homeless people in the middle of the night, will I get fear value?"

At that thought, his stomach growled again, pulling him back to reality.

Chen Mu stuffed the flashlight into his pocket and began walking into the distance.

——————

St. Joseph's Church. When Chen Mu arrived, there were already about thirty people lined up at the door.

This was an address from the original owner's memory. Every morning at 8:00 AM sharp, relief meals were distributed here on a first-come, first-served basis.

Although the USA's "execution line" ruthlessly turned large numbers of people into the homeless, there were also many kind-hearted people who came to provide free aid to them.

For example, Father George, who was coming out pushing a food cart; he heard from others that he had been distributing relief meals like this for ten years.

Although there were conspiracy theories saying he had some hidden agenda or some exchange of interests with politicians.

But one should judge a person by their actions rather than their intentions. At least at the moment he handed the relief meal to Chen Mu, in Chen Mu's eyes, he was a good man.

The relief meal consisted of two slices of white bread with a slice of turkey in between—no sauce—and a cup of coffee.

Relief meals in the USA weren't about taste; they were about calories. This food was about 1,200 calories, enough to sustain an adult for most of the day.

He carried the food to the steps on the side of the church and sat down.

Although the sandwich was cold, the bread a bit dry, and the turkey tasted terrible, a gulp of hot coffee finally gave him the strength to move.

Other people who had received relief meals were scattered across the steps; no one spoke.

Not because of coldness, but because people don't want to talk when they are hungry.

Also because every day was the same sandwich, the same coffee-like gray sky, and there was nothing worth saying.

Chen Mu stuffed the last bite of the sandwich into his mouth.

He thought of the Shaxian Delicacies restaurant downstairs before he transmigrated. Banmian, six yuan a bowl, noodles coated in peanut sauce, with steam wafting onto his face.

The owner recognized him and would give him an extra spoonful of pickled long beans every time. He never thought that bowl of noodles was anything special, but now he would be willing to trade anything for one.