"Bang," came the sound of the door closing.
It startled Wang Jian awake from his deep sleep.
He looked up at the alarm clock by the bed, "7:40."
He sighed, slowly put on his clothes, and walked into the bathroom.
Staring at the completely unfamiliar figure in the bathroom mirror, he remained silent.
This body, standing at 180 cm, well-proportioned, and with delicate features, seemed to be the only benefit of time-traveling.
A month ago, he was still working three shifts on an assembly line back in his home country.
But after waking up, he found himself in 1995 New York City, becoming a 17-year-old Chinese teenager named Wang Jian.
Recalling the original owner's memories, he couldn't help but feel a headache.
Abandoned by his parents since childhood, he was shuffled between multiple foster families.
Due to personality and environmental issues, he never fully integrated into society, and not long ago, he was sentenced to 50 days of community service for theft.
Moreover, during the community service, he met his current roommate, El.
A young Black guy who mixed with some unknown rapper in the Bronx District.
In his previous life, he had never even been to a police station, so how did he end up in such a situation through time travel?
And what was worse, he traveled to the United States?
In his previous life, he never paid attention to any opportunities for getting rich in the United States.
"Hey, Wang, this is the address of that new restaurant, you should give it a try," a skinny Black guy with dreadlocks poked his head out and said to Wang Jian, "Just say El sent you."
"Thanks," Wang Jian bumped fists with El and said, "You've been quite punctual recently, coming back every morning at 7:30."
"No choice, the big guy I'm following is about to debut," El said, "Now we're hanging out at nightclubs to build popularity and connections."
"Alright, I'm going to sleep. I have to go out again tonight."
After saying that, he waved his hand, yawned, and walked towards the bedroom.
Wang Jian looked at the note in his hand and lightly shook it.
In a ghetto mainly populated by African Americans and Latinos, as a Chinese person, he even needed someone to help him find a waiter's job.
If his parents from his previous life were just high school students now, he would have smuggled his way back.
Lost in his thoughts, Wang Jian walked to the living room.
After quickly finishing two pieces of bread, he put on his coat and walked out of the dim apartment.
The weather in New York in April was still a bit cold.
In an open space not far away, some drunks sat on several cement pipes, drinking what's uncertain if it was leftover from last night or just bought today.
In some alleys, some homeless people lay haphazardly, consisting of drug addicts, failed marriages, and failed investments among others.
Mostly men, but there were a few women too.
Even the gangsters in the slum were too lazy to rob them, mainly robbing each other...
At the end of the street corner were several Cadillac SUVs, inside came the chanting of gangster-like figures.
They were the real owners of the slum, the true gangsters.
At this moment, they waited for business while enjoying their favorites, cocaine, and gangsta rap.
Wang Jian quickened his pace to stay far away from these people, while calculating in his mind how much longer he had until he completed his community service and could leave this place.
Before long, he arrived in front of a restaurant.
Wang Jian carefully checked the address, then took a deep breath, and pushed open the door to walk in.
"And you are?" an old white man asked.
"I'm recommended by El, here to apply for the waiter's position," Wang Jian quickly said.
"Oh, recommended by El," the old man showed a bit of difficulty on his face, "I thought it would be a black person, it would be easier to relate to customers that way."
Black person?
Relate to customers?
Wang Jian still held a glimmer of hope in his heart, "Chinese can also relate to customers, right?"
"Most Chinese go to Chinatown, and what's left head to Manhattan, who comes to the Bronx?" the boss sneered.
After saying that, he pulled out three twenty-dollar bills and handed them to Wang Jian, "Sorry about that."
Wang Jian originally didn't want to take them, but then thought, why not?
It was the other party who didn't hire him because of his race, it wasn't his fault, was it?
Just those few words recorded on tape could win a racial discrimination lawsuit in court.
Accepting the compensation was entirely reasonable.
So, he took the money and turned around without saying anything more.
On the way back, he started to calculate.
Before completing his community service, it was impossible to leave the Bronx.
And 50 days of community service meant he had to stay here for two months.
The rent for the apartment was 500 US dollars per month, and with living expenses cut to the bare minimum, it amounted to around 300 US dollars.
So, the financial cost to complete the community service was 1600 US dollars.
And his savings were 2100 US dollars.
Most of those savings were because of community service.
So, after the community service, he would be left with only 500 US dollars?
Then his dream of going to college would be unachievable?
Even the cheapest community college's tuition was still a few thousand dollars.
Would he be stuck doing jobs like a waiter or deliveryman in the future?
Lost in his thoughts, Wang Jian walked back to his apartment in a daze.
Sitting on the sofa, he wondered how he could make money quickly.
Of course, excluding illegal activities.
After thinking for a long time with no result, Wang Jian sighed helplessly.
Sure enough, poor in his past life, and still poor in this life?
Contemplating deeply, he scratched his head hard, preparing to rest for a while and think about the future later.
So, he casually picked up the comic book El had left on the table.
He heard this comic was quite popular recently.
Wang Jian glanced at the comic's title.
"Aquaman?"
He opened the first page, the art style was acceptable.
He continued reading.
The comic roughly told the story of a child named Arthur Curry, who possessed Atlantean blood and numerous superpowers, the most powerful of which were water-related.
Then, he used these superpowers to fight against villains like pirates and whalers who had high-tech weapons and protect the world.
After finishing it in a dozen minutes, Wang Jian was speechless.
This comic neither explored the origins and science of the superpowers like in hard sci-fi.
Nor did it feature the dazzling skills and combat scenes like Hollywood blockbusters.
It didn't even have the kind of plot where the protagonist mixed with the crowd unnoticed and silently sneered at others' obliviousness to his powers.
It was just empty slogans about protecting the world.
Then, the whole world united with the protagonist to eliminate the villains, and that was the end of it.
Just this?
Popular?
Wang Jian couldn't help but think of the online novels he read in his past life.
Although he couldn't remember their specific plots, he knew some common tropes.
The opening must have some fortuitous encounter.
The origins and reasons for the encounter did not matter, what mattered was the face-slapping process.
A fiancée breaks the engagement, a live-in son-in-law's humiliation, a daughter living in a doghouse—all had to be included.
Then the protagonist gets angry and starts his rise to power.
During the rise, there should be relentless face-slapping, varying styles of face-slapping, and not only slapping the younger generation's face but also their elders'.
That's what made it thrilling.
While thinking this, a long row of bookshelves suddenly appeared in Wang Jian's mind.
On the bottom shelf of the first bookshelf, a book had already appeared.
He focused his eyes, only to see a thick yellow-covered book.
In his mind, Wang Jian picked up the book and saw these big words:
"I'm a Great Mage"?