The sunset on the West Coast is still quite a sight.
Allen Zhang sat on the lawn by the street, feeling the breeze on his face, the temperature was neither irritable nor hot, but he kind of felt like dying.
He held a bottle of Dr. Pepper cherry-flavored soda, picked up for free from the relief station. He remembered this stuff wasn't cheap back home in his previous life. The taste was indeed hard to compliment; no wonder it was distributed to the homeless.
Streets of Los Angeles were bustling with people, commercial buildings two or three stories high, painted in light goose yellow and rose red hues, a 24-hour supermarket, discount clothing stores, street views, sidewalks, traffic lights.
And... the long lines in front of the relief stations, colorful graffiti walls, cracked pavement, garbage bins everywhere, and homeless leaning against the walls.
The air was filled with a mixture of odors, fragrances, and smoke.
It was undeniable that from today, he was also one of them.
God knows why he woke up on the West Coast.
No dog at the start, no identity, not even a tent. Only wearing a pair of beach shorts and no shoes.
What a hellish start to urban survival mode!!
He took a sip of the hard-to-swallow cherry-flavored soda and grimaced as he crunched the can.
Thinking it over, he decided to take advantage of the shelters and food trucks in Poor Street while they were still open, and queue up to freeload two more bottles of Dr. Pepper and a big bottle of wall-mounted water.
No psychological pressure at all.
The lord had paid his dues.
[Daily Information: Every Wednesday, you can get a free new phone at Shelter No. 326, registration of basic identity information required.]
[Daily Information: A homeless person has died in the alley at 25 Fifth Street; he had 4 dollars and 50 cents in his right pocket.]
[Daily Information: Bali's relief food truck will provide beef pasta meals, fresh juice, and chilled fruit platters at Maki Street at 18:30.]
[Daily Information Weight: Grade E. Based on current social status and assets, up to three pieces of daily information related to daily life or street gang activities are provided, including information on relief stations, recycling stations, commercial activities, personal privacy, day labor, gang transactions, etc.]
[Life Skills: Driving Skill level 2 (Amateur), Mixed Martial Arts level 3 (Professional), Shooting Skill level 0 (Beginner)…]
He pulled out his domestic smartphone, no signal. He opened an app called "Simulated Life."
GTA game stepping into reality, folks.
Fortunately, he understood English and didn't have to play mute.
This app mysteriously appeared on Allen Zhang's phone and couldn't be uninstalled, but it could be transferred to other electronic devices under his name, like sports bands, iPads, tablets, liquid crystal glasses, etc.
Great, I've even dreamed of one day in the distant future, buying a private island in Columbia Bay named Perico, occupying various top Blue Star technology talents and heavy firepower, ruling the area. Sitting in my own bunker, controlling orbital cannons via satellite to blast away the United States! (Just kidding)
For now, better to stick to receiving my relief meal and figure out where to spend the night.
Collect the free phone.
This sort of scheme was no different from getting a free shampoo with a new card registration, common in California and elsewhere, a common way for personal information to be leaked.
Cheap isn't necessarily good quality, never believe in pie dropping from the sky.
Allen Zhang just got up to find a garbage can to ditch his bottle, when a Caucasian boy with a black trash bag full of cans and transparent plastic bottles approached him.
"Hey, mate, can I have your bottle?"
Man or woman?
Allen Zhang hesitated.
"I'm Dominic. I know what you're thinking, mate! I'm a guy."
The Caucasian boy had a gentle face with a kind glow, golden long hair, delicate features, no Adam's apple. He was wearing a gray-white Adidas sweatshirt, slightly old light gray jeans, and black sports shoes.
He smiled and asked for the cans, "Can you give me the cans, please? I need those."
"My name is Allen."
Allen Zhang promptly handed him the bottle, fluently replying in English, "I mean no offense, but you really are pretty, mate! If you didn't tell me, I really couldn't distinguish your gender. Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like Berne Anderson?"
"Thanks. Who is that?" Dominic took the cans, somewhat puzzled.
"A male actor who looked like an angel in his youth and like God when he got older."
"Wo～"
Dominic, although unfamiliar, was somewhat intrigued by the descriptions as an angel and God.
But he wasn't too thrilled, shook his head, "Thank you for the compliment, but I don't really like how I look, you know. There are many homeless in Fifth Street, and on the streets, someone like me needs to be careful, can't act foolishly because people will intentionally cause you trouble, bully you, wanting to take advantage of you!"
Allen Zhang fully agreed with his words.
Because even as a straight guy he found the other attractive, tempted to touch his face, let alone those gay people.
"Hey buddy, what's your situation now, homeless?" Allen Zhang felt puzzled.
Dominic saw that he was a chatty person, with an Asian face, also quite presentable, so he put down the trash bag he was holding, and sat next to him.
He said, "It's nothing, just that I don't get along with my mom, we often quarrel, and I don't like living in that house, so I ran away from home."
Allen Zhang exclaimed, "Really? Maybe you could try reconciling with your family. It's better than wandering alone outside."
Dominic shrugged, "It's complicated. When my dad was alive, my mom cheated on him. After he died, she started bringing people home all the time—Asians, Mexicans, Black people, Indians—she'd bring them home to drink, party, get high, and the noise would keep the neighbors up all night. She was often reported. She completely disregarded my feelings."
"I couldn't stand it so I chose to leave home. In the two and a half years I've been homeless on the streets, she hasn't looked for me once. I think, maybe she's better off without me."
"..."
Allen Zhang didn't know what to say for a moment.
"Maybe your decision wasn't wrong..."
But running away from home doesn't seem much better.
Relying on shelters and charity organizations might keep one from starving, but a life exposed to the elements tends to lead one into bad habits and encountering many harsh individuals.
This damned American happiness education.
Many young homeless people on the streets also have families but are forced to leave due to various reasons and issues with their biological families, eventually all ending up the same; either stealing and landing repeatedly in jail, becoming debt-dodging deadbeats, or drug addicts.
Once homeless, always homeless.
"Dominic, are you of age?" Allen Zhang asked curiously.
"Don't underestimate me, alright? I'm already nineteen years old for real."
Dominic smiled, "You wouldn't guess, but another identity of mine on a Texas Driver's License says I'm 26."
"Oh, then you can freely go in and out of clubs and bars," Allen Zhang laughed heartily.
America.
The beacon of world civilization.
A country rife with fake IDs.
More than half of the students in schools hold fake IDs, mainly for buying cigarettes and alcohol, staying at hotels, entering bars, and clubs - so widespread that it's impossible to thoroughly check.
As long as you're not stupid enough to be a 17-year-old white high school student using a 21-year-old Black person's driver's license ID at a convenience store claiming to have vitiligo, then you can be at ease.
The police department won't bother with this, identity issues fall under the Immigration Bureau, but they sit in offices and don't patrol the streets, so basically, no one looks into it.
As long as you don't do something dumb like bomb the Pentagon, nobody has the time to investigate a worthless loser.
"Just like many people say, in real life America has a population of only 300 million, but over a billion are registered online. Where are the remaining 700 million? Are they ghosts?" Allen Zhang said with a laugh.
"Exactly, that's right, welcome to the free West Coast!" Dominic fist-bumped him.
"Thanks for the warm welcome, buddy, but if I could choose, I'd rather be lying in my own bed, sleeping in," Allen Zhang felt somewhat helpless.
Even a wrecked ship has three pounds of nails.
The West Coast is far from a good place.
"Dominic, could I ask where you got your Texas ID?" Allen Zhang inquired.
"Of course. It's no secret."
Dominic candidly said, "You just need to log onto the OnlyFake website, pay 15 US dollars, use neural networks and generators to create a California Driver's License that looks very real, including any designated name, personal information, address, validity period, and signature."
"This way, you can successfully apply for online bank cards in California, driver's licenses, transfer properties, buy cigarettes and alcohol, verify identities on social apps, and log into online shopping platforms and cryptocurrency exchanges."
"Offline it's a bit harder, since barcodes and passport chips require more professional equipment to produce, and need more skilled people for printing. Fake IDs can be detected immediately if the Immigration Bureau checks online."
"But in most cases, as long as you don't travel abroad, don't mess around, or aren't a state-wide wanted criminal, no one will bother to check online."
Teaching people how to get fake IDs, if you dared to do this in other countries, you definitely wouldn't end up well!
But this is America.
The chief of police's son himself has a bunch of messy IDs, and politicians usually default on sensitive topics.
Since AI came along, the effect of fake IDs has become more rampant, online surpasses offline, foreign identities over domestic, other state identities over own state ones. Because the greater the distance, the lazier to verify.
Previously, you had to rely on Photoshop to manually tweak the details before printing. Now, using pure AI programming, exploiting loopholes has become unbeatable.
However, fake is still fake, even if it looks real, getting a real and legal identity still requires spending money through proper channels; that's the eagle's rule.
Allen Zhang, freshly arrived and having neither money nor connections, needed a Fake to at least fool the ordinary departments.
[Forged Documents lv.0: Dominic has shared some relevant skills with you.]
Welcome to Free America, gunfights every day.