Dual Transmigration: American Prison, Surviving to a Fantasy Development Stage

As he drove into downtown Tijuana, a peculiar scene of prosperity came into view.

The streets were crowded and lined with shops.

However, many shops sell thick backpacks, durable clothing, high-energy compressed food, various types of power banks, and even simple water purifiers and medicines.

The pedestrians on the street were of various skin colors. In addition to Latinos, Lin Feng did see many Asian faces, as well as Indians wearing headscarves.

Most of them were in a hurry, their eyes filled with a mixture of vigilance, anxiety, and a desperate desire.

The gathering places for illegal immigrants are a unique feature of the border landscape.

As Lin Feng checked into a reasonably clean-looking motel, the shrewd-looking middle-aged man at the front desk glanced at him and whispered in accented English, "Need a tour guide?"

Safe, fast, and it'll be delivered to the other side.

Lin Feng shook his head calmly and took the keys: "Thank you, but I don't need them for now."

Hearing Lin Feng's American English, the receptionist stopped saying anything.

They are not illegal immigrants at all.

Asian illegal immigrants all have accented English, making them easy to distinguish.

This is also a form of discrimination in America.

His room was on the second floor.

In the corridor, he encountered two men who were about to leave. They had typical Indian features, dark skin, and wore slightly ill-fitting suits. One of them wore glasses and had a beard.

Their eyes met, and the Indian man with glasses hesitated for a moment before striking up a conversation in heavily accented but fairly fluent English: "Hello, are you going over there too?"

He pointed north.

"What's up?" Lin Feng asked casually.

"Yes, we are too. How much did you pay in agency fees?"

"How much did you spend?" Lin Feng couldn't help but ask, bored.

He was also curious about Ah San, wondering if it was true that Ah San's sister-in-law wouldn't even let the monitor lizard go.

I also want to know how much the Indians have sacrificed to smuggle themselves into the country.

The bespectacled man pushed up his glasses and sighed. "I'm a surgeon, and he's my cousin."

We paid a high price; it cost 800 million rupees for the two of us.

Someone took us there in the evening.

800 million rupees, Lin Feng silently calculated, that's about 70 yuan.

Lin Feng: "800 million rupees? With that much money, you would be considered wealthy in India. Why would you need to be smuggled across the border?"

What's wrong, tired of curry?

Upon hearing the word "Ah San," the bespectacled man's expression instantly turned sour.

He didn't want to talk to Lin Feng.

The two turned and left.

"Damn, why did you two leave? We wanted to talk about the lizards some more."

As soon as Lin Feng finished speaking, the two Indians walked even faster.

Lin Feng was somewhat disappointed that he hadn't learned anything about the lizard.

Lin Feng swiped his card to open the door and entered the room.

Closing the door shut out the sounds from the hallway.

It's so hot in broad daylight, Lin Feng has no interest in climbing over the wall.

Let's talk about it when it's a bit cooler in the evening.

He walked to the window, parted the curtains slightly, and looked outside.

In the distance, under the blazing sun, the endless high wall is faintly visible; that is the US-Mexico border wall.

It was around 11 p.m.

Tijuana at night is destined to be more active and more dangerous than during the day.

Lin Feng saw many illegal immigrants carrying large and small bags, heading towards the border wall.

Upon reaching the towering border wall, Lin Feng leaped lightly over it.

The movement was as light as if it were casually stepping over a low fence.

The Texas landscape appeared even more desolate under the dim starlight.

Immediately afterwards, an electric motorcycle appeared out of nowhere beside them.

With a twist of the ignition, the car shot off like an arrow, leaving only fading tire tracks behind.

This is a no-man's-land border buffer zone, where the night is far more dangerous than the day.

Gunfire, infighting among smugglers, and even clashes between border patrols and illegal immigrants could all occur.

Many gangs like to rob these illegal immigrants.

Although Lin Feng was not afraid, he temporarily suppressed the idea of ​​contacting Sarah immediately because he thought about the risks Sarah might face if she drove alone into this area.

Safety first, let's talk about this after we get out of this chaotic area.

He sped along a bumpy dirt road.

A large number of abandoned shipping containers were scattered along the roadside, some of them converted into temporary shelters, while others were completely empty.

The air was filled with dust, rust, and a faint smell of decay.

Occasionally, bright car headlights can be seen flashing in the distance; these are border patrol vehicles conducting nighttime patrols.

Sometimes the lights would sweep in his direction, but Lin Feng was riding his bike at a very high speed and alone, which was very different from the image of those stowaways who usually walked and carried their bags.

The patrol team's attention was mostly focused on pedestrians or suspicious vehicles, and they didn't pay much attention to his electric scooter that flashed by, nor did they bother to chase it.

After speeding along for about half an hour, the number of people along the way became increasingly sparse, and the sense of desolation intensified.

Suddenly, the edge of the car headlights swept over several blurry, unnatural dark shapes on the roadside.

The light swept across several corpses, lying haphazardly among the sand, stones, and weeds, appearing to have died recently.

Lin Feng glanced around and spotted a familiar face.

The Indian doctor I met in the Tijuana Hotel corridor during the day.

Lin Feng had already driven past, but after driving a few dozen meters, he turned the car around again.

He didn't do it out of any good intentions; he turned back simply because he thought this Indian guy was valuable.

A doctor who has received years of professional training and can pass rigorous assessments possesses a rare value in terms of knowledge and skills.

Although India is often criticized for being dirty, chaotic, and poor, its large population has indeed produced a large number of science, engineering, and medical talents, especially a significant proportion of doctors with international medical qualifications.

To stand out from the caste system and become a doctor is truly a remarkable achievement.

It's such a waste to leave such a body, which contains professional knowledge, abandoned in the wilderness.

Lin Feng parked the car next to the body, got out, and squatted down beside the Indian doctor's remains.

Silence reigned all around, broken only by the mournful sound of the wind.

A black lotus quietly appeared in the palm of his hand.

In an instant, the corpse vanished silently as if weathered away, and a surge of information flooded into Lin Feng's consciousness.

The information is gradually becoming clear.

This Indian man is from Gujarat, India, and is a highly experienced thoracic surgeon.

His motive for smuggling himself into the country was quite despicable. After an operation, he harbored evil intentions towards a female patient with outstanding looks and forcibly activated her device while she was still under anesthesia and in a daze.

After the truth came out, he faced fierce retaliation from the patient's family, was nearly beaten to death, and his career was completely ruined.

They had to go bankrupt and take on debt to raise the 400 million rupees (about 35 yuan) needed for smuggling.

As for why he died here, the smuggling agents stuffed them into a sealed freight car and drove them through the scorching desert. The temperature inside the car was extremely high, and he was already weak from the previous beatings and long-term stress, so he suffocated to death inside.

After discovering the bodies, the real estate agent, in order to avoid trouble, simply dumped them on the secluded roadside.

After sorting through this information, Lin Feng stood up, his expression unchanged, when he suddenly remembered an old friend, Donut.

I'd rather die on my way to my spiritual homeland than stay in the country.

For these people, yearning for their spiritual homeland is already a pilgrimage.

The Indian man in front of me, to some extent, also harbored a pilgrimage mentality.

Indians, one after another, have gone to great lengths to smuggle themselves into their spiritual homeland.

Some froze to death, some died from heatstroke, and some were beaten to death by gangsters.

Similar scenarios are likely repeating themselves day after day along the border.

Black Lotus fed back her memories, and further integrated the thoracic surgery knowledge and experience that Ah San had painstakingly accumulated over ten years into Lin Feng's conscious body instincts.

At this moment, Lin Feng felt as if his hands had gained some kind of invisible familiarity, and he had gained a lot of knowledge about the structure of the human chest cavity, the course of blood vessels and nerves, and suturing techniques.

If he were to perform delicate wound suturing or even internal organ repair on the injured Gu Yu now, he would be far more skilled and precise than before.

My hands even felt itchy, and I wished I could find a wound to stitch up.

His gaze shifted to several other corpses on the roadside.

According to the Indian man's recollection, these people were also part of the same group of illegal immigrants.

One of them also has some value.