Upon hearing this, the man with short hair hunched his shoulders and sighed, “Anyway, my mother really regrets it. This ce is not a paradise on earth; it’s more like purgatory. That deceitful agent told me otherwise before I arrived.” He continued, “He imed that even washing dishes could earn me seven to eight thousand US dors a month. But now, I see eight people fighting over every bowl in the Chinese restaurant.” Then he turned to Charlie and said, “Brother, didn’t you ask me why I didn’t go to Los Angeles? The truth is, I went there first. After arriving from Mexico, arge group of us headed straight to Los Angeles. It was only when we got there that we realized the high-paying jobs were just a fantasy. I ended up sleeping on the streets for over ten days, surviving on relief food that barely filled me up. My fellow countrymen told me thepetition there was too fierce and suggested I try my luck in New York instead.”


    Charlie, intrigued, asked, “That’s quite a distance from the west coast to the east coast. How did you make the journey?”


    The short-haired man chuckled. “I hitchhiked on trains. It was a long trek, but I was lucky to have a few homeless Americans with me. They were picking up trains all day and we followed them all the way to New York, our hands blistered from the effort.”


    The short-haired man looked despondent. “How would I know? It’s not worth risking jail for what I’m doing. Do you know how overcrowded American prisons are? If you’re an illegal immigrant caught for petty theft, they might only keep you for a few days. I thought they’d send me back, but they don’t even care about that anymore. After I got out, I had to sleep on the streets… If I had known the U.S. was this terrible, I would have nevere here, even if it meant dying.”<h3 style="background-color:DodgerBlue">


    Charlie nodded in understanding. “If you have the chance, it might be better to go back home.”


    The short-haired man shook his head. “I want to return, but I don’t have a passport or any money. The Americans won’t deport me, so how can I go back? This trip cost me over 10,000 yuan. Where would I get the US dors to return?”


    Charlie shrugged. “Then you need to find a way to save more money for your return.”


    The short-haired man looked like he might cry. “Brother, it took me a long time to save up just to get here. I ate foods along the way that I had never tried before. If I save up again just to go back, won’t that feel like aplete waste?”


    Charlie couldn’t help butugh, asking, “What did you do before arriving here?”


    The man chuckled again, saying, “Oh, I worked on construction sites, did takeout deliveries, worked odd jobs, and even participated in group performances. I’ve done it all.”


    Charlie nodded, finding it hard toment on the situation. The life of an illegal immigrant is incredibly tough. Generally, they end up taking the jobs that locals are unwilling to do. Back in Hong Kong, Arman was a leader in the financial sector, but in the U.S., he could only make a living running a roast goose shop. For an ordinary person without special skills, the challenges are even greater. At that moment, the short-haired man quietly expressed, “I’m just speaking my truth. If I could, I really want to go back… This ce is nothing like what I imagined.”


    Just then, several more illegal immigrants were brought in by the police and ced into a detention room. One of the officers, a man with yellow skin, nced at Charlie and said, “Charlie,e out with me.”


    The short-haired man looked on, curious. “Brother, what did he call you?”


    “He’s calling me,” Charlie replied, nodding at the short-haired man. “Looks like he needs me.”<fn9437> The rightful source is f?ndnovel</fn9437></p“once>