Jill Young took some time to get a feel for this world—and this city.
First off, this place is definitely not Earth. Okay, technically that's a pointless statement—if you dream yourself into another world, how could it still be Earth? But here's the thing: the four different worlds Jill and Jack entered could all be considered Earth in a broad sense. The history, culture, races, borders, and ecology were basically the same as Earth. Even the big stuff, like gravity, was identical, so there was never any need to adjust.
But not here. If Jill calmed down and tuned in, her super-sensitive abilities could tell right away: the gravity in this world is stronger than on Earth. Not by much, but it's different. The atmosphere is thicker too—so thick Jill could actually sense the higher air pressure. Everything here is just a bit tougher. If Earth was version 1.0, then this place is like Earth 1.1: upgraded.
Second, this world is definitely not some peaceful, prosperous utopia. Quite the opposite—at least judging by this little city, it's pretty poor. Maybe it's just the route she took, but everywhere Jill looked, it was all slums. People in rags, looking half-starved, crammed together with barely any sign of life. Physically, they were just as weak as regular Earthlings. And thinking back on what she'd just seen, it was clear: personal power here varies a lot.
The way these people reacted to Jill was pretty odd. On one hand, their eyes lit up with ambition, desire, and longing. On the other, their faces showed fear, shrinking back instinctively. Maybe to them, Jill's sporty outfit looked way too fancy, making her seem like some big shot who’d made it in this world. And to them, big shots basically meant danger.
Third—and this is a big one—Jill realized she was in a seriously bad spot: broke!
Jill had never, ever been broke before. Sure, Jack starved and struggled as a kid, but Jill? From the moment she popped into existence, she’d never known poverty! In the Black Dragon Stronghold, you didn’t need money, and she got her hands on a pile of gold soon after. Then she dominated the underground boxing world, and figured she’d never have to worry about being poor. But now she realized: Earth cash was useless, and even real gold and silver didn’t work here. The convenience store clerk looked at her gold bar like it was a turd, and snarked, “What are you, from the ancient times? That stuff’s just trash nowadays.”
“So where can I earn some cash, then?”
“You could go to a certain street...” The clerk gave her a sleazy look—every guy knows that look.
Jill’s temper flared instantly. Just then, three thugs burst in waving knives, ready to rob the place—and maybe Jill too. Her forehead twitched, and with a single punch, she sent the lead thug flying into the other two. The trio bounced out the door like billiard balls, only to get smacked sky-high by a speeding car.
The car didn’t even slow down—like nothing had happened at all. Guess folks around here are pretty hardcore.
Seeing Jill send three guys flying with one punch, the clerk stared, stammering, “Or—or maybe... with skills like yours, you could try the church.”
"The church? They’ve got churches in other worlds too?"
"Yep. If you’ve got the skills, that’s the place to go." The clerk sounded pretty sure.
The three unlucky robbers were broke too. Jill searched them for ages and didn’t find a single coin, so taking a cab was out. But when it came to the church, everyone in the area seemed to know the place, so Jill just asked her way there. By the time it got dark, she’d arrived.
It really was a church—a Gothic building like the Catholic ones on Earth. Not too big, not too small, a little run-down but still recognizable. Jill pushed open the door. Inside, it was nearly empty, just a couple of people scattered on the pews. But at the end of the church, there wasn’t a crucifix or a statue of Jesus—in fact, there wasn’t even a cross.
Instead, the one they worshipped here was a woman—a goddess, maybe.
And don’t go thinking she was some serene, elegant Virgin Mary. This four-meter-tall statue had an S-curve, long legs, crop top, mini skirt, big chest, killer figure, wavy hair, a pair of wings, and a glowing halo. Oh, and in each hand she held a massive gun. All in all, she was a supercharged, wild version of an angel.
Jill whistled, clicking her tongue as she walked up to the angel statue. “Well, now, that’s different! Even the gods they worship aren’t the same. But I like her—she looks way tougher than the suffering guy.”
“You mean Jesus Christ, right?” A gentle male voice came from nearby. Jill turned to see a big guy sitting in the front row. He was tall and solid, nearly two meters, about as burly as the old veteran, but he didn’t come off as a brute—he seemed more like a professor.
How to put it? He was the kind of professor who could gently guide good kids and punch bad ones into next week. That warm voice was his: “After the fall of the classical era, hardly anyone remembers Jesus Christ.” He raised his big hand and flashed a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you, I’m Derek Cheng.”
Jill shook his hand—just a normal handshake—and introduced herself: “Jill Young.” Then she sat down next to Derek Cheng, looking up at the angel statue. “I heard you can make money here. You look like someone who knows the ropes. Mind telling me how it works?”
“You must’ve heard that from the folks on the street. You can earn money here, but you have to join the underworld.”
“Join the underworld?” Jill pointed around in surprise. “So this church is basically a black market for gang talent, and I have to join a gang like I’m applying for a job to get paid?”
“Hahaha, pretty much!” Derek Cheng was amused, laughing out loud. “You’re not from the Death Wasteland, are you?”
“You figured it out?”
“Totally obvious!” Derek Cheng looked at Jill, eyes shining—not with lust, but with genuine admiration. “You’ve got that classical-era vibe. You don’t fit in here, and you’re definitely not someone who clawed their way up from the Death Wasteland. Plus, that handshake—people from the Wasteland don’t shake hands like that.” He glanced at the angel statue, speaking honestly. “And I did some homework, checked out what happened at the prison gate today.”
“Oh?” Jill didn’t panic, just shot him a glance, her tone a little dangerous. “You’re pretty well-informed. So what exactly do you know?”
“Relax, I’m not your enemy. I just know you’re pretty skilled, your guns are junk, you don’t know a thing about Wasteland folks, and you’ve got some old-school morals.” Derek Cheng gave a charming, confident smile. “Anyone who really understands the Wasteland wouldn’t freak out about prostitution. That kind of morality doesn’t fit here—it’s pure classical era.”
“Uh...” Jill’s face went dark at the topic. “You really did your homework... So what do you want? Planning to experiment on me?”
“Haha, not at all! I’m actually a huge fan of the classical era.” Derek Cheng sighed. “The harsher life gets, the more people need pure beauty to hold onto. That’s why the angel statue is here—she stands for violence, strength, beauty, truth, purity, and loyalty. People in the Wasteland need something to believe in, so she became their new faith. And you,” Derek looked at Jill, “I see that same thing in your eyes. You’ve got a strong pull—lots of people are going to admire you.”
“Your face is way too close—back it up.” Jill squinted. “If you’re trying to hit on me, give it up. If you get clingy, I’ll just flatten you.”
“Huh?” Derek Cheng blinked, then pulled back and burst out laughing. “You saw right through me! All right, come on, let me teach you how to survive in a Wasteland city.”