Earth’s economy continued to decline, and opportunities became as scarce as air.
Ordinary people gave it everything they had, only to face “your application doesn’t meet the requirements,” “we’ll need to coordinate,” and “please wait for further notice” again and again.
Then the “Red Star Migration Plan” appeared out of nowhere:
The new Martian city promised no regard for background, no reliance on connections, complete transparency, and a points-based system. Everyone would receive resources and dignity according to the rules.
Lin Xun gritted his teeth, sold his last remaining asset, and set foot on Red Star, determined to turn his life around.
Beneath the dome, the streets were clean and order was maintained. The System used algorithms to allocate housing, medical care, and jobs, while every action was converted into credit points. At first glance, fairness had finally become reality.
But he soon discovered that rules never disappear. They simply put on a more respectable face.
“Whitelisted” applicants jumped the queue, “sponsors” mattered more than points, and “expedited services” worked better than hard work.
Some people turned the transparent System into a business, made fairness a barrier to entry, and divided the new world into social tiers all over again.
Only when he finally stood before the heart of Mars’s new order did he understand:
It was never the planet that determined the world’s direction, but the human heart.
As long as greed remained, every brand-new world would eventually become a reflection of the old one.
And this time, he had to choose:
Would he become a victim of the rules, or the one who rewrote the new order?
