There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

Even more unfortunately, I don't have a 300% advantage in terms of appearance in any sense.

Finally, it was three in the morning. I changed into a synthetic fiber jacket and strolled alone through the dimly lit streets. One by one, people emerged from the street corners, all of them urban poor like me, and first-generation immigrants from backward planets, like rats in a stinking ditch. Only in corners where no one paid attention did they dare to gently wiggle their whiskers and make a slight sound, for fear of disturbing this great city.

Suddenly, my personal smartwatch beeped with a text message notification. I thought it was another VR construction project order, which I was going to check to see if it was easy to make money. But instead, an email from the Shining World Government popped up on my retina display.

"Dear Marcus II, Cyborg, Builder, today is December 29, 5300 AD. This is a system announcement. Please verify that the date is correct."

"Confirmation complete."

"It is with regret that I remind you that your father has been missing for 200 years, which meets the time limit stipulated in Article 20 of the Shining City Inheritance Law. However, since the direct heir is a genetically modified human, it violates Article 12, Paragraph 5 of the Shining City Reproduction Law."

"Therefore, Shining City divided Mr. Marcus's estate. The real estate, cash assets, equity and other items within Shining City have been auctioned off, and the funds have been transferred to a social welfare account as operating funds for the city's welfare home."

"Upon asset verification, one remaining asset in the Old World cannot be sold because it is not located within Shining City. Furthermore, according to the Old World's inheritance law, you are recognized as having the right to inherit this property. Do you wish to inherit it?"

"Please reply within two business days. Failure to do so will be considered as abandonment, and the Old World Government will be notified to dispose of the property as an unclaimed property."

I stared blankly at the text on the retina display and replied somewhat hesitantly.

"What are the specific project details? Where is it located?"

The email was answered very quickly.

“A ranch asset located in Mineral Town, East Coast of the Old World.”

Attached to the poster was a propaganda poster that looked like a wasteland. A crooked, rusty sign was nailed to a field overgrown with weeds and rocks. In the distance, a dilapidated little house could be seen, like the furrowed brow of an old man when he was angry, looking desolate and strange.

"I would like to go."

After typing those words, I felt as if all my strength had been drained away, and I slumped down on the side of the road. Perhaps my movements were too exaggerated, which startled a woman behind me who was also wandering aimlessly, earning me a look that was both reproachful and cautiously evasive.

"Going to the Old World will automatically relinquish your Shining World registration. Do you confirm?"

A confirmation form appeared on my retina display, awaiting my final confirmation.

.........

Two days later, I arrived at the Shining City Immigration Management Office for the final removal of my urban devices. I would have the electronic AI chip, identity verification chip, VR neural interface, and some neural assistive devices removed from my body, restoring me to my original form as a natural human being.

I've heard of people who broke the law and were exiled going insane after having these devices removed. They couldn't accept that the world's colors had become dull, sounds had become muffled, communication had become inefficient and cumbersome, and even simple gestures had become sluggish and alienating.

But for me, these things seem insignificant in my two-hundred-year career as a construction worker.

I'm fed up with eating tasteless food, watching boring advertisements, and doing a lowly and uncreative coding job. Even death feels cold and lifeless here.

I don't want to be lying in a hospital bed when I'm old, watching the bills rise higher and higher, and finally, after my account dries up, shakily turning off the life support to find relief.

This is my last chance.

The staff in front of me were performing the operation back and forth. As the last piece of the retinal display screen was removed, I stood up from the control panel.

……

A staff member wasn't particularly surprised to see the man in front of him weeping. He went over, patted the young man on the back, and comforted him, "Young man, try to think positively. I've heard the storm in the old world has subsided. It might be good to go down and take a look."

I ignored his attempts to comfort me and continued to cover my face, letting out a series of heart-wrenching sobs.

What's truly devastating for me isn't the prospect of going to an unknown place...

Just now, after I removed these devices, a cold voice rang in my ear.

Welcome to Tynan Sylvester's Colony Simulator!

"Player Marcus's cheat device has been removed. The game system is now officially online!"

"Please check the character status and mission details in the upper left corner of your view!"

"Welcome to this future world full of endless possibilities! Have a wonderful time!"

A gear-shaped game icon suddenly appeared in my field of vision. The email notifications inside had accumulated to hundreds, all about changes in my physical condition, which had been blocked out by my senses since childhood, which had been replaced by urban technology.

I frantically checked the character's status that had suddenly appeared, and seeing the three glittering golden icons above the character's traits: "Bear Grylls," "Child of Nature," and "Death," I suddenly felt that the world was so strange and absurd...

Due to an oversight in my game settings, I ended up with a cheat code, allowing me to spend two hundred years moving bricks in the virtual world.

Chapter 3 Mineral Town

Mineral Town is a small place with a population of only a few dozen people and a radius of less than a hundred miles.

In this era when the blue planet has not been completely abandoned, this place was once a raw material supply base for a large industrial base.

Further on, this was once the landing point for the first colonial rule, where visitors from the sea settled firmly.

Further on, this might be the territory of wild animals or the land of indigenous people. In any case, this part of history that is not remembered has become increasingly insignificant as humanity has completely retreated.

But now, this mining town is increasingly losing its reputation.

The ease of space mining is often proportional to its scale; no one will ever again transport ore from here and bring in shiploads of necessities. Therefore, local residents have shifted their production focus to agricultural and livestock products, textiles and clothing, metallurgical tools, and wine. Imports are now limited to plant seeds, pots and pans, and household appliances.

The self-governing organization formed by the residents could only afford the full-time expenses of one mayor and one police chief. The other forest ranger was a lumberjack who liked to carve logging marks on his favorite trees while patrolling the forest.

Today was supposed to be another peaceful day, until Sheriff Harris, wearing a tall hat, rushed back into the house and shook Mayor Thomas, who was still fast asleep in his tall chair.

Thomas had a comical fleshy nose on his chubby face, and his eyes went from listless to angry in an instant, clearly indicating that this had happened more than once.

"I warned you, Harris!"

Thomas roared in anger.

"Dr. Dort has already diagnosed me. My illness requires sufficient sleep, and I need two hours to make up for the one hour of sleep that was interrupted!"

Harris was tall and thin, with an overly honest and somewhat dull look in his eyes. He exposed the truth without any mercy when he opened his mouth.

"Thomas, this medical report wasn't written by Dr. Dort. It was something Mr. Dart joked about with you when he was drunk. If you keep sleeping, one day you'll start to believe your dreams!"

Thomas seemed to be deep in thought, racking his brains to find a rebuttal, but Harris was unwilling to give him time to ponder.

"Enough, Thomas! Take back your ridiculous words before you open your mouth. Something's falling from the sky! I bet it's heading towards Mineral Town!"

Upon hearing this, the town mayor was also startled. He quickly opened the window and saw a bright, glowing object appearing and disappearing in mid-air. It was undoubtedly the sparks generated by the friction of the aircraft passing through the atmosphere.

As the traffic lights, visible even in the sunlight, continued to flash, we were getting closer and closer to the town.

"Where do you think it will fall to?"

The fat mayor, Thomas, turned to the thin sheriff, Harris, and asked him.

Undoubtedly, in the past, similar decisions in this town were made through question-and-answer exchanges between these two individuals.

Harris squinted, stretched out a hand, gave a thumbs-up, and gestured towards the uninvited guest in the sky.

"I guess it's by the river to the west..."

"Then it's alright." Thomas seemed relieved. Such spacecraft crashes used to happen frequently at one point, especially after humanity had completely retreated and left unattended satellites.

"As long as it doesn't damage buildings, it's fine..."

"……building?"

The sheriff and the mayor suddenly screamed.

"That ranch!"

.........

I never expected that Shining City would entrust interstellar transportation to an obscure trading company. Judging from the owner's evasive eyes, I suspected that the owner was also an exiled convict from Shining City.

What I suspect even more is that the warehouse that the small-eyed, short-bearded boss warned me not to approach might contain goods like me—people.

The interstellar journey took only two days to reach the star system where the old world was located. During this process, due to the involvement of warp drive, the crew and I were in a long period of cryogenic hibernation, and the mission of navigation was handed over to the ship's autopilot function.

In my dream, a strange passage of text suddenly appeared in my mind. It was from a book I had never read before, filled with characters I had never learned, yet I clearly understood its meaning and silently recited it.

"Once upon a time, Zhuang Zhou dreamed he was a butterfly, fluttering about happily, feeling quite content, unaware that he was Zhuang Zhou. Suddenly he awoke, and there he was, Zhuang Zhou again. He wondered whether he was Zhuang Zhou dreaming he was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming he was Zhuang Zhou?"

As I kept reciting, those distant memories suddenly appeared before me, turning into glittering fragments of memory. Each piece was so real that I couldn't tell whether they were my illusions or memories from my past life.

Was Zhuangzi dreaming of being a butterfly, or was the butterfly dreaming of being Zhuangzi?

Was it me from the future dreaming of my past self?

Or was it that I, while playing the game, dreamt of my future self in the game world?

Memories from the two worlds began to overlap, forming an inescapable net that entangled me deeply, splitting every thought into two distinct selves in a dialogue.

Until a huge tremor woke me from my cold sleep.

.........

"My God, someone airdropped a person using a transport container?!"

Thomas arrived at the edge of the ranch and saw a clear area with fallen trees. In the very center was a silver-white transport warehouse, with obvious signs of high-temperature burning on its surface.

Harris carefully examined the traces in the transport compartment and drew his conclusion.

"This is a modified airdrop transport cabin. It begins to decelerate at an altitude of 30,000 meters, and then begins precision guidance at an altitude of 1,000 meters. Finally, the external shock-absorbing protective material has just evaporated, so it does not affect the personnel's evacuation."

"This method sounds like an illegal human smuggling ring. If I'm not mistaken, just press here..."

The sheriff skillfully located the button next to the transport compartment and pressed it gently...

"The hull will open!"

As soon as it was opened, the sheriff saw a folder outside the transport compartment containing two documents made of super-woven fabric.

One is a rather old land title certificate, proving that the mineral ranch belongs to the certificate holder and his descendants.

The other document is an identity document, which shows that, according to genetic sequencing, the man named Marcus is a direct descendant of Professor Marcus of Shining City (Identity ID: 13502520654).

Thomas saw a brighter, more luminous life support capsule in the middle of the transport compartment. After a series of red and green lights flashed, the glass lid opened, and a young man slowly sat up inside.

As the man stared blankly at the overgrown, deserted courtyard outside, Thomas's chubby face quickly broke into what he thought was a kind but actually comical smile, and he spoke enthusiastically in a reading-aloud tone.

"Welcome to Mineral Town! Dear Mr. Marcus, the rightful owner of Mineral Ranch!"

Chapter 4 Tavern

"So you just dumped the ranch on me like that?"

Completely bewildered, I followed the two of them onto the unfamiliar stone-paved road, constantly asking myself to confirm the matter.

The suspicious fat man tried to put on an honest and reliable expression, but he looked extremely suspicious to me.

“Mr. Marcus, this is your legal property, and your right to inherit it is indisputable!”