Collect Scrap? Yes, the Kind That Collects the System

[Urban imagination + system + single female protagonist + superpowers + worlds + waste recycling] My name is Chen Fei, and I collect waste at the entrance of a village in the city. Others collect rags, I collect scrap gold fingers. The sign-in clock is leaking electricity, the favorability panel is blurry, and the precognitive dream fragments have expired. It doesn't matter if it can't be repaired, just dismantle it and sell the parts. The old car repairman next door said that my job would get me into trouble sooner or later. Until I dropped out of a "don't open" shell, a photo - it was me. Three years ago. Standing in a white room full of numbered iron bumps. Later, a woman in a black trench coat sent a "live" system embryo. She said it would kill people if they didn't take it. That night, it lit up on its own in my stall. On the day the scrap yard opened, someone sent a truckload of unopened gold fingers. Who sent it? I opened the last box and there was a note inside: "Chen Fei, welcome home."