Chapter 2: The Forgotten Enclave

After spending another half hour circling the graveyard, Shaoran braced himself to leave. "Well, I didn't expect to have everything sorted right from the beginning," he grumbled. "But what's the deal with this energy situation? Every part of my plan requires an immense amount of energy." He made an attempt to convert the qi energy to cosmic energy, but he felt no discernible change. It struck him that the energy conversion might not have reached a measurable value without the aid of specialized machinery.

Finally, he bid farewell to the graveyard and started walking towards his home, relying on his memory to guide him. The road was tranquil, interrupted only by the occasional high-speed car that oddly resembled a turtle, complete with neon lights. A faint smile played on Shaoran's lips as he recognized the technology, having seen a more advanced version in a different part of the world.

As he walked, some passersby found him peculiar, but they chose not to disturb him, suspecting he might belong to the "OLH" — OutLaw Heaven, a significant criminal haven within the town. Shaoran meticulously observed every detail of the town, keen on gathering as much information as possible in a short time. People consciously distanced themselves from him as they walked, granting him space to observe without interference.

Shaoran's thoughts raced as he continued down the quiet streets. He pondered his situation and the challenges that lay ahead. "Energy, that's the first hurdle," he mused aloud. "Without a substantial power source, I won't be able to implement my plans effectively." He paused, his gaze falling on the high-speed cars. "Perhaps there's a way to tap into this town's technology. I've seen similar tech before. If I can access it, it might provide the energy I need."

He couldn't help but consider the possibility of tapping into the local grid or even scavenging some of the advanced technology to retrofit it for his purposes. But that was a task for another day. For now, he needed to secure a place to stay, find food, and learn the language spoken in this town.

The notion of the "OLH" intrigued him. "OutLaw Heaven," he repeated softly, mulling over the implications. "If I can navigate the intricacies of this criminal haven, it might prove useful. Criminal organizations often have access to resources and information that can be valuable."

With these thoughts in mind, Shaoran quickened his pace, eager to reach his apartment and assess what remained of his possessions. He knew that unraveling the mysteries of this world and his own past would require both cunning and adaptability.

After an hour of walking, Shaoran finally arrived home, a two-story building near the junkyard—nothing fancy, just a typical, budget-friendly place. The previous owner used to run a scrapyard and had two kids who helped out. Shaoran could piece together that it was probably the kids who buried him, given the memory he received from the departing soul. It seemed financial struggles had driven the body's original owner to the brink, especially considering the soaring credit card bills.

He began exploring the place, noticing the attempts the previous owner had made to start a business. However, the area, known as the Forgotten Enclave, didn't seem conducive to thriving businesses. It was a tough spot, given its location.

Nearby, there was a small petrol pump and battery charger that Shaoran had built from scrap not too long ago. He took a closer look at the map displayed there, carefully cleaning off some grime with a broom. He muttered to himself, "Alright, let's get acquainted with this town."

Looking at the map, he started to explain the town's layout. "This town is quite big, covering about 50 square miles. It's organized in a sort of roundish pattern. The middle is downtown, where a lot happens. Then you've got your residential areas circling that. Out towards the edges, you find the spaceport and the factories. Unfortunately, there are also these slum areas that have cropped up near the abandoned parts of town."

Pointing at the map, he continued, "Here are the main roads. Quantum Boulevard runs through the middle, connecting everything. AstroWay encircles downtown, making it easy to get around. If you head north, you'll find Aether Heights, and to the south, there's Nexa Towers."

He gestured towards various spots on the map. "Medical help is around here, and schools are scattered all over. There's even a big shopping area centrally located. For traveling, you've got ElectroWays Hub that links all the areas. NeuraJet Terminal is good if you need to catch a flight. And for those who live in riskier areas, Quantum Enclave is close by for emergencies."

Finally, he pointed at the slum areas. "These are the rougher parts—Forgotten Enclave to the northeast and Outlaw's Haven to the southeast. Not the best places to be, but they're part of this town too."

Shaoran studied the map intently, absorbing the layout and thinking of possible strategies. "I'll need to figure out how to navigate this place efficiently," he muttered, lost in thought.

As Shaoran stepped into the living room of his two-story house near the junkyards, the state of the place became evident. The previous owner seemed disinterested in maintaining the home, evident from the collection of old furniture and the general lack of care. Nevertheless, the structure was solid, a testament to its durability.

The ground floor housed the living room, which was adorned with a faded but once-loved sofa, a small coffee table, and an old-fashioned entertainment center. Adjacent to the living room was a spacious kitchen, equipped with outdated appliances but still functional. A sliding glass door led to a modest balcony overlooking the junkyards.

Moving upstairs, there were three bedrooms. The first was a master bedroom with an attached bathroom and a small walk-in closet. The other two bedrooms were smaller, likely for the kids who once helped run errands at the scrapyard. There was another bathroom on this floor to serve these rooms.

As Shaoran explored the house, a robotic assistant charging on the wall in the living room powered on. Its metallic limbs made a distinctive clinking sound as it approached Shaoran, scanning him thoroughly.

"Scanning... scanning... scanning completed... Welcome, Master Shaoran," the robotic assistant chimed in a synthesized voice. "Please pay your internet bills and electricity bills, and don't forget about the water bills. Oh, there are 86 unread emails and 17 missed calls. Miss Anna applied for your death certificate; the system finds it suspicious. Do you want to report it to the authorities?"

Shaoran raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. "Low-level technologies, indeed," he mumbled to himself. "Let's start with you, then."