Nighttime Brawl

As Mel Carlo hesitated, the scar-faced man beside him secretly slipped a handful of copper coins into his hand.

"Twenty Aurens. Hold on to them."

"Thanks." Though Mel Carlo had yet to process what was happening, he still clenched the money and walked toward the gang underboss in front of him.

The currency in the game had all been gold coins, but the money in his hand now was copper. This world was very similar to the game, yet not entirely the same.

He walked over slowly.

He could not exactly say he was afraid. On the contrary, he found it rather interesting. It was a strange feeling—the elite monster he could one-shot in the game had now become the boss deciding his fate.

"Did you steal any money? Or do you want a whipping, brat?" The fat gang leader scratched his belly with one hand and gripped a whip with the other. A boy who had just been whipped knelt before him.

Mel Carlo said nothing. He merely took out the twenty copper coins in his hand. He still did not know what purchasing power those twenty coins had, or whether they would be enough to spare him a whipping.

"Only twenty Aurens? You think you can fool me?"

Mel Carlo was kicked away, but he avoided a whipping. Though he stumbled to the ground, it was still far more comfortable than taking a lash. By falling backward as he was struck, he could disperse the force.

Though he had not raised his head, it was not because he was truly afraid. He simply needed to avoid making eye contact with someone like this, or he might easily become the target of their anger. The instant the man kicked, he had already prepared to absorb the impact.

Several more children entered the courtyard afterward. They appeared to have been forced to beg or steal as well. One after another, they handed over their money. Those who had nothing to give each received a lash.

A little boy protected a little girl and took several extra lashes. He now curled up on the ground. Mel Carlo had no way to help in a situation like this. He could barely protect himself.

Mel Carlo had already sat off to the side, in a corner of the courtyard. He tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. Anke slowly walked over to him, and he looked at Anke.

This scar-faced man did not seem as bad as he had imagined.

"Master Anke, why did you help me?"

If he wanted to understand this world, he naturally had to begin with the people around the original owner of this body. At least for now, this scar-faced man did not seem so bad.

"I just thought it'd be a shame if a kid like you, who barely managed to pull through, got whipped to death like that."

"Oh." Mel Carlo was somewhat moved. He had been given another chance at life. Dying would indeed be a shame.

"You know, people controlled by gangs only have one path: completely joining the gang like I did and becoming the sort of person they once hated."

"Is there no other choice?" Mel Carlo did not think he had to stay in this hellhole forever. With the memories of his past life, as long as he could save up enough money to leave, he would definitely live better than this.

"You can choose to die. But never think about running away. If they catch you, you'll wish you were dead." Anke seemed to have seen through the thoughts hidden beneath Mel Carlo's calm exterior.

"Thank you." Mel Carlo rose to his feet.

If he wanted to survive, he had to actively adapt to the rules, like a cockroach adapting as quickly as possible, rather than clinging to his old values and perishing in this world.

At night, Mel Carlo was locked in a room with the other children. There were no beds. Only a few places covered in straw and empty rice sacks were somewhat comfortable. All sorts of strange smells mingled together, making the place nearly unbearable.

The gang's thugs handed out dinner. It was a modest piece of dark bread that smelled sour enough to kill any appetite.

It was hard and dry in his mouth, and he could barely stop himself from spitting it out.

Staring at the black bread, hard as iron, in his hand, he could not help wondering, "Is this something people are supposed to eat?"

He had done his share of good deeds in his previous life, so why had he been reincarnated as a beggar?

Yet the other children in the room did not seem to care. Even this dry, black bread was a rare delicacy to them.

Some children who had been whipped lay on the straw. They had not found a way to get money, so they had no dinner.

A filthy little girl crouched beside the straw. The injured boy had taken extra lashes to protect her, and her stomach now growled with hunger.

But among the beggar children in the room, no one would give away the food they had worked so hard to obtain.

"Hey, kids, eat this. I can't stomach it." Mel Carlo handed the dark bread in his hand to the little girl beside him.

The little girl hesitantly accepted the bread, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room. Some children without dinner were so hungry that their eyes gleamed. It was not impossible that they would try to snatch it.

"Thank you." The little girl's voice was weak. They did not seem to know each other well. Many children were locked up here.

A somewhat larger boy rushed over, intending to snatch the bread. Mel Carlo moved swiftly as well. Against an opponent a full size larger than himself, he would definitely be at a disadvantage in a direct fight.

The best choice was to grab the opponent's neck from behind. As long as he threw off the other boy's balance, bringing him down would be easy.

"Give me the bread! Or I'll beat you up!" Chubby viciously waved his fists, making as if to strike.

But Mel Carlo suddenly moved from behind, wrapping an arm around Chubby's neck and pulling backward with his full body weight. Though he was thin and weak, this technique was still useful in a fight.

No matter how Chubby struggled, Mel easily brought him down, then punched him twice in the face.

"Stop hitting me! I was wrong."

"You were wrong? Are you still going to steal it?" Mel Carlo raised his fist. He knew how to fight. His parents in his previous life had been unreliable, so he could only become fiercer himself if he did not want to be bullied.

"I won't steal it! I won't!"

Seeing their leader knocked down, the other beggar children who had wanted to fight for the food no longer dared step forward.

"Remember this! My name is Mel Carlo. I make the rules here. Whoever I give bread to gets it. If I don't give it to you, you can't take it!" Mel Carlo punched him twice more before letting go. He had thrown those extra punches because plenty of little punks would strike back after begging for mercy.

He raised his voice so everyone in the room would know he was not someone to be messed with. Even among the weakest groups, there were differences between the strong and the weak.

The room fell quiet again. Mel Carlo lay back down on the straw, while the little girl tore off pieces of bread with her hands and fed them to the boy beside her.

After feeding him nearly enough, the little girl stuffed the remaining bit of bread into her mouth and carefully chewed before swallowing.

She turned to look at Mel Carlo.

"Hello, my name is Lily. Thank you so much..."

The girl's voice was soft, but utterly sincere.

"It's nothing. I couldn't swallow that stuff anyway. This kid got whipped protecting you, right? I saw it in the courtyard."

"Yes, he did that to protect me..." The girl sounded somewhat guilty.

"What's his name?"

"His name is Akai."

Lily's hair was somewhat gray, though not entirely white. It looked more like the result of malnutrition.

The boy named Akai, however, had a head of striking blond hair. Such conspicuous hair was not suited for a little thief. It seemed he could only beg.

He looked no more than six or seven years old. At that age, he should have been in first or second grade, yet he had to suffer like this.

"What about that Chubby? In a hellhole like this, how did he get so fat? Does he often steal other people's food?"

"Yes, but did you forget?" Lily scratched her head before continuing, "Before, we all thought you couldn't talk. They said you were sick and about to die, that maybe after today, you wouldn't come back anymore."

Listening to this, Mel understood that the original owner had died of illness, allowing him to be reincarnated into this body. But the only information he could access now was his health and mana bars and his level. He had no points to use the lottery function, and he did not know how to obtain points.