In the thick night, a black and white figure rapidly ran and jumped across rooftops of varying heights, moving extremely fast, completely ignoring the complex rooftop environment. Neither pipes, outdoor air conditioning units, nor the gaps between buildings could impede this figure's high-speed running.
Under full exertion, the running speed of twelve to thirteen meters per second was no less inferior to the World record set by the Jamaican sprinter, and this was achieved on a rooftop full of obstacles. This made Greer overjoyed, like a child with a new toy, fully enjoying the exhilaration of free running.
After running three streets in one go and no longer hearing the car's anti-theft alarm, Greer stopped running. He landed as light as a feather on top of a three-story building, bent over, panting heavily. His mind felt hazy, as if he had been driving at high speed with intense concentration for several hours; he was mentally exhausted to the extreme.
Running at a high speed of over ten meters per second allowed Greer to cover a distance of two to three thousand meters in just three or four minutes, and this was on complex rooftops. If not for the Diqi Armor enhancing his five senses and nerve reaction speed, let alone running at such high speeds, he would likely have been unable to dodge obstacles and would have crashed into them as soon as he started running.
Conversely, the enhanced five senses greatly increased the external information collected per unit of time, and the accelerated nerve reaction speed also increased the information processed by the brain per unit of time.
It was like a computer from seven or eight years ago, equipped with the latest graphics card, hard drive, and memory to run larger games, but still using an old CPU. The CPU temperature would surely rise sharply, and over time, crashing wouldn't be impossible.
This was the situation now. Although Greer possessed greater strength, faster speed, and nerve reaction speed thanks to the Diqi Armor, his brain had not yet adapted to this superhuman power and speed, still remaining at the level of a weakling. It was like riding a bicycle normally and suddenly switching to a motorcycle; he certainly couldn't adapt immediately and wouldn't dare to let loose and ride fast.
After bending over and panting for a while, Greer felt the fatigue in his brain ease slightly. He gathered his spirits and listened to his surroundings. Besides the sound of wind passing through the gaps between buildings, there was no other sound.
Only then did Greer breathe a sigh of relief. With a thought, the armor on his body quickly disappeared, leaving only the silver-white belt around his waist and the Knight Card Box on his left side. He placed his right hand on the Decade Driver, and the silver metal belt quickly retracted into the Decade Driver, taking the Knight Card Box with it as it vanished.
He put the Decade Driver into his pants pocket, took off the shirt with a torn opening on the chest, and used a relatively clean corner to vigorously wipe the sticky, blackened blood from his chest and hands.
After cleaning himself up, he threw the impossibly dirty shirt off the building, where it landed in a large iron trash can. Greer turned and sat down, leaning against the railing at the edge of the rooftop, wanting to rest for a while. He hadn't rested for a minute since transmigrating until now; he was truly exhausted.
But as soon as his back leaned against the wall, fatigue made Greer involuntarily close his eyes. An irresistible sleepiness washed over him. His head dropped, and he fell unconscious against the corner of the wall. Dreams are always so bizarre. Greer felt as though he was in an incredibly dark void, then a dazzling light appeared, followed by six clusters of things of different colors. Before he could even see what they were, he felt someone shaking him, and at the same time, a few English words entered his ears: "Hey, wake..."
Greer groggily opened his eyes, twisted his stiff neck, and looked ahead with a blank expression. A slightly plump face came into view, full of the marks left by time, with black hair, black eyes, and yellow skin, clearly a Chinese person.
His consciousness wasn't fully awake yet. Greer felt like he had a dream, but he couldn't remember what he dreamt. Facing this gray-haired uncle, he spoke as if in a daze: "Who are you?"
The uncle, wearing a gray top and black pants, heard Greer's words and straightened his previously half-bent waist. As he moved, a gun with a metallic sheen tucked into his waistband was faintly revealed.
This instantly cleared Greer's previously hazy consciousness. He quickly recalled the incredible events of last night: crossing over to New York, a new body, Greer, the Diqi Armor...
The uncle looked at Greer, who was huddled in the corner, shirtless and only wearing pants, and asked, "Who are you? Why are you on my rooftop? Did something happen?" This time he used Chinese, and although it had a strong Fujian accent, Greer could roughly understand what he meant.
"I..." Greer was instantly speechless. His now-clear mind raced, trying to find a reason to explain why he was on someone else's rooftop. His eyes involuntarily glanced at the pistol on the uncle's waist. He had heard that entering someone's home without the Thanos's permission could get you shot dead with no responsibility borne by the shooter. If his reason wasn't convincing, would he be shot dead?
A hint of fear couldn't help but rise in his heart. Sleeping while leaning against the wall had left him with a sore back, aching limbs, and numbness, making it difficult even to stand up, let alone resist. His only hope was the Decade Driver in his pants pocket.
But taking it out and placing it on his waist to transform would take two or three seconds. He could only hope the other party's gun wasn't loaded. Greer secretly thought to himself, he had to remember this lesson. In the future, he should try to keep the Decade Driver in belt form. That way, if he wanted to transform, he could just insert a card and complete the transformation in less than a second.
The uncle noticed Greer's gaze, raised his hand to pull up his zipper, covering the pistol on his waist, and said, "We're all fellow Chinese, I won't pull out a gun. This isn't back home. Trespassing into someone's house without the Thanos's permission can get you shot dead, and the shooter won't bear any responsibility. Some people who just snuck in before thought it was like back home, but they ended up getting shot..."
The uncle couldn't help but stop there, seemingly realizing that saying this might sound like he was intimidating the child in front of him. He paused and said very seriously, "I'm not trying to scare you, but if I didn't see that you look Chinese, and you were Black or White instead, I would definitely be holding a loaded gun in my hand, not just tucking it into my waistband. The security in Brooklyn has never been very good."
Greer really wanted to say, 'Who the hell would want to come here?', but he quickly said, "I didn't sneak in, I didn't." If he were mistaken for someone who snuck in and the Police were called, that would be troublesome. Thinking this, he quickly reached into his pocket for the two ID cards, planning to bluff his way through regardless of whether they were real or fake.
The uncle walked to the left, saying as he went, "Don't worry, I won't notify ICE. There are many people who entered illegally just like you here. New York hasn't really been cracking down on illegal immigrants for years. As long as you don't get close to the Police, you'll be fine."
"ICE?!" Greer looked bewildered. What did that abbreviation mean? He knew ACE, but someone who didn't play esports certainly wouldn't know what that meant, just as he now didn't know what ICE meant.
The uncle took down a short-sleeved shirt with 'Jimmy's Restaurant' printed on it in English from the clothesline on the rooftop, walked over, and handed it to Greer. He glanced at the two cards in Greer's hand, shook his head slightly, and looked up at Greer, saying, "Do you know what kind of cards these two are, and what they're for?"