An American knife seller? No, please acknowledge me as your godfather.

Lynn is transported to a parallel America—and dies within minutes of arrival. An elite programmer earning a modest salary, she is cut down not by conspiracy or crime, but by a routine appendectomy gone wrong. The road to her death is paved with crushing wait times, astronomical hospital bills, insurance denials, unemployment, and mounting loan debt. Her attempts to stay afloat, from hawking herbal remedies to washing dishes at a Chinese restaurant, all end in failure. At rock bottom, she awakens a strange new ability: skills unlocked by absorbing emotions from others. The first key is gratitude. She stands before a camp of the homeless and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Day one: "Bro, want a smoke?" Day two: "Bro, how about a bottle of vodka?" Day three: "Bro, you got the smokes and booze? Here, a machete—for peeling fruit." Day four: "Bro, Jack Ma from the next block says I'm not allowed to bring you guys anything anymore." "Jack Ma's leg is broken." "Oh? When?" "Tonight." From that moment on, a street godfather begins to rise.