Chapter 62: Avatar

Dim and dazzling, dreamlike and surreal—these were Ma Jun’s first impressions upon arriving in this new world.

Around him, a mass of people gathered as if at a parade or rally. Their faces were pale and expressionless, like a procession of corpses marching forward with no purpose. They wore all manner of clothing: short sleeves, long robes, hats atop their heads. Some had strange masks covering their faces, as though their features had been ravaged.

A woman hurried past Ma Jun; he watched her closely. Her left eye was a bizarre mechanical device, glowing like a flashlight in the gloom.

Apart from this, nearly everyone wore masks or respirators, resembling gas masks.

Ma Jun took two deep breaths, his brows furrowing. The air was thick with an acrid, decaying stench, as if he’d stepped into an industrial chemical plant.

“Damn it, where on earth have I ended up?” He continued scanning his surroundings.

Towering, crowded buildings blocked out the sky. Above, various three-dimensional and two-dimensional holograms floated, playing advertisements or something else, appearing from nowhere.

Overhead, a vehicle like a light rail train whooshed past.

“There are no cars here?”

Ma Jun walked to the roadside and gazed at the red light across the street. All sorts of odd bicycles glided by. The street itself was constructed solely for bicycles!

“Wow, vehicles fly in the sky?”

He looked up and saw several cars moving at different altitudes. Yet such vehicles were rare; people seemed to rely mostly on bicycles or the light rail for transportation.

The green light flashed. Ma Jun followed the throng across the street, all the while observing this strange world.

Soon, Ma Jun turned a corner onto a narrow alley flanked by skyscrapers.

Few people passed through the alley. From his storage ring, Ma Jun produced a folding chair, sat down, and lit a cigarette. “Xiaohua, report current status.”

“Current world: Avatar!”

“Local time: 5:30 PM!”

“Energy consumed for crossing: 2000. Remaining energy: 9000!”

Are you kidding me? This is Avatar?

Ma Jun was utterly astonished. “So this is what Earth looks like in the world of Avatar? No wonder humans toil so hard, waging wars just to obtain minerals worth millions. Earth has become unlivable!”

As he spoke, Ma Jun rummaged through his spatial ring, soon pulling out a mask and putting it on. He took a drag from his cigarette, then set it aside.

“Uncle, can’t you curb your smoking for a bit?” Xiaohua’s hologram appeared, frowning and pointing at Ma Jun. “The air here is already polluted beyond belief, and you’re adding to it!”

“One more or one less won’t make a difference,” Ma Jun shrugged. “Maybe, when I smoke here, I actually inhale cleaner air.”

Xiaohua was dumbstruck by this twisted logic. After a moment, she said, “It’s because there are too many people like you that the world has become so terrible!”

“When did you become so self-aware, kid?” Ma Jun chuckled. “Enough chatter. It’s time for action! This world’s technology must be advanced. Lots of useful things around!”

He packed away the folding chair, tossed the cigarette butt, and his eyes gleamed as inspiration struck him.

The Avatar world, aside from the blue-skinned aliens and the now-rotten humans, was also filled with treasures everywhere.

The truck driver had shown everyone an enchanting world, even brainwashing people, making their sympathies lie with the Na’vi.

After watching the film, Ma Jun eventually redirected his emotions back toward humanity. He mused that perhaps the truck driver used the Na’vi-human relationship to satirize the fate of Native Americans and Africans during the Age of Exploration.

Yet once such a scenario becomes reality, human interests will trump all else. Anyone siding against humanity must be out of their mind!

The Na’vi pride themselves on a self-sufficient world—a perfect ecosystem, striving to maintain balance.

But that’s nonsense. Without the sun providing energy, would Pandora still function?

For now, these questions were distant. Ma Jun’s immediate goal was to gain a foothold on Earth, then find a way to visit Pandora.

After all, in this world, many grew up hearing stories about Pandora but could never see it for themselves.

“Damn it, what did humans do to turn Mother Earth into this mess?” Ma Jun grumbled as he walked.

“Hell, it’s just after five in the afternoon, yet the sky is so dark! Did they install a shield over Earth?”

Crossing several streets, Ma Jun finally found a small bar. Everywhere he passed, dense crowds filled the space. Clearly, Earth’s population had exploded.

No wonder Jake, a disabled veteran, had such a miserable life!

Inside the bar, a group reveled in wild abandon. A massive light screen on the wall played football—a truly resilient sport.

People eyed Ma Jun with curiosity.

He wore a refined tailcoat, the sort of attire only the upper class could afford. They wondered why someone like him would enter such a bar.

No one questioned his skin color; the races had blended. Black, white, yellow—it made no difference.

Ma Jun wandered about, eyes darting everywhere. He didn’t ask the bartender for a drink, nor did he pay attention to the flirtatious women.

After observing for a while, Ma Jun approached a burly man and patted his shoulder. “Hey, I’d like to do some business with your boss. Would you mind letting him know?”

The burly man stared at Ma Jun, hesitated briefly, then nodded. “Please wait.”

The currency here was not the US dollars Ma Jun had prepared; it had already been replaced. He had to use gold and jewels to get some money.

Naturally, gold and jewels were highly valuable, as they were scarce in the market.

Ma Jun’s items had no legitimate provenance, so exchanging them in a regular market would cause trouble.

Thus, the black market was the best option.

These remote bars were full of drugs and narcotics; it was obvious what kind of person the bar owner was.

As for whether the lure of wealth would drive the owner to take risks, Ma Jun felt no concern. The bar was shabby, and if push came to shove, with his tailcoat and martial arts, he could kill dozens without issue.

Soon, the burly man returned. “Sir, please follow me.”

Ma Jun followed the man up a staircase at the back of the bar. Upstairs, a row of rooms lined a corridor.

At the end, the burly man opened a door and invited Ma Jun in.

The room was small, its furnishings reminiscent of an office. Behind the office was a little room, its door ajar, revealing a bed.

Behind the desk sat a tall sofa and a fat man.

A commotion came from the little room. As Ma Jun entered, a seductive woman emerged, kissed the fat man, smiled at Ma Jun, and left.

After inviting Ma Jun in, the burly man left and closed the door, but his footsteps remained absent, clearly standing guard outside.

“Hello, I’m George. I hear you have something good for me?” The fat man took a cigar from the desk, lit it, and stood up, smiling as he extended a hand.

Ma Jun, a head taller, smiled and shook his hand. “My name’s Ma Jun. I’ve got some fine goods you’ll love.”

“Really?” George was skeptical, but he invited Ma Jun to sit and handed him a cigar.

Ma Jun took it, inhaled deeply, then lit it. He reached into his coat and produced five gold bars. “Interested?”

The fat man’s squinting eyes shone. He put down his cigar and weighed a bar.

After a while, George said seriously, “About five hundred grams. Market price: two hundred thousand dollars! Five bars—eight hundred thousand! Let’s be friends.”

“I like straightforward people,” Ma Jun replied with a satisfied smile. “Even more, I like making friends.”

George laughed heartily, stepped forward, and embraced Ma Jun. “I like making friends too!”

“Mr. Marl, please wait a moment. I need someone to verify the goods, then I’ll transfer the money to your account,” George said.

He left, without taking the gold.

Soon, a scantily clad waitress brought in two unopened bottles and glasses, served them attentively, and was dismissed by Ma Jun.

George returned with a thin man, who carried a case. The man went straight to the table and began testing the gold.

Ma Jun and George sat on the sofa, chatting.

Soon, the thin man put away his tools. “Boss, it’s good stuff!”

George grinned. “Mr. Marl, give me your bank account, I’ll transfer the money. Then let’s go downstairs for a drink! I’ll prepare a few girls—fresh yellow-skinned ones, you’ll like them!”

The system had arranged for Ma Jun to be a nobody, his identity seamless, a jobless drifter. He had all the necessary credentials and bank accounts.

This fat man hadn’t tried any tricks so far, which Ma Jun appreciated.

Transaction complete, they went downstairs for a hearty drink. Ma Jun then excused himself, declining the so-called fresh girls.

Making friends with money is the most reliable way, as long as you have a steady supply. Ma Jun fit this mold, and right now, he truly needed a friend.