Two Pounds and Ten Shillings

Tingen.

Late at night.

In a dim alleyway where the crimson moonlight could not reach, a young man rubbed his throbbing forehead, struggling to make his way toward a location etched in his memory.

When he finally arrived in front of a house on Iron Cross Street, he could no longer withstand the surge of memories flooding his mind and collapsed, losing consciousness entirely.

Lord of the Mysteries... Klein... Lynch Trans...

When Lynch regained consciousness, his still-dazed mind finally grasped what had happened.

He had transmigrated.

One moment he was playing a game, and the next, he had become Lynch Trans, a colleague of Benson in the world of Lord of the Mysteries.

Fate must have gone mad; a person who never appeared in the original plot had intercepted Klein on his way home after parting with his classmates and obtaining the Antigonus notebook.

Then, the notebook that triggered the entire incident fell into his hands, followed by the sound of a gunshot, ending the poor fellow's life and paving the way for the current Lynch.

Confused by the situation, he only saw someone trying to take the item from his hands, instinctively delivered an elbow strike to the attacker, and then ran forward while clutching the Antigonus notebook.

It was fine at first, but soon he felt something was wrong.

His body began to exert a suction force, seemingly drawing something from the notebook, while his head grew hotter and hotter as memories and knowledge flooded his mind.

Instinctively wary of staying in that alley, he followed the residual address in his mind and arrived at the doorstep of Klein's home.

Wait.

Klein?

At his doorstep?

Lynch snapped his eyes open.

It was a small room with a door on either side and a desk opposite him, upon which sat an ink bottle, a fountain pen, and a notebook, with coal-stove-related items piled beside the desk.

It looked familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere before.

Right, he had seen it in a fan-made layout of Klein's room for Lord of the Mysteries.

This was Klein's room?

Lynch took another look, then turned his interest toward his golden finger.

Yes, the moment he transmigrated, the specialty from his hometown had followed him.

Stone of Myriad Phenomena.

It could absorb the energy leaking from Beyonder items to maintain his current state of life.

This brought to mind the Antigonus notebook.

The Stone of Myriad Phenomena had almost drained the notebook dry, which allowed his body to recover and even provided enough surplus to temporarily shield the scattered information about Lord of the Mysteries in his mind, preventing his head from exploding whenever he recalled something.

Of course, after a brief communication with the Stone of Myriad Phenomena, he learned it could still spare a portion of energy to help him find a suitable Sequence and generate the potion formula for that pathway.

Naturally, if he could obtain more energy, the Stone of Myriad Phenomena could even help him generate a new pathway that did not exist in this world, saving him from having to compete with other Beyonders.

Energy was truly a wonderful thing, but unfortunately, the Antigonus notebook had no more oil to squeeze out for the time being.

Lynch sighed and was just about to pull the Antigonus notebook from his person to see if he could extract any more energy when he heard footsteps at the door, followed by the door opening.

It was Melissa.

The sixteen-year-old girl looked exceptionally youthful, and even though she appeared thin and pale, it did not diminish her beauty.

It was just that her words were a bit of a headache.

"Mr. Trans, you fainted at our doorstep yesterday. Klein and I brought you in and found a doctor to examine you.

He said you must have been attacked... In any case, the consultation fee is five pounds. We don't have much money at home, so I hope you can pay the doctor as soon as possible, or have me pass it on."

Five pounds?

Lynch sat up awkwardly and patted his pockets.

He only had one pound and ten soli, his salary from yesterday.

Where did Melissa find a doctor? She didn't hire a top specialist, did she?

This was far too expensive.

Lynch couldn't help but complain inwardly.

The original owner's weekly salary was one pound and ten soli; he really couldn't afford a five-pound doctor.

However, looking at the equally strapped girl before him, he still reluctantly took out one pound in cash.

This was practically his entire net worth.

Five pounds... in this world, that was enough to cost him his life.

He had to think of a way to pay less.

"It was Klein who attacked me!"

Lynch gritted his teeth and began to weave a story, trying his best not to look guilty.

Melissa was stunned for a moment, seemingly unable to comprehend where he found the audacity to slander Klein.

After all, let alone hitting someone, Klein struggled even to kill a chicken.

"It really was him. Yesterday evening, I saw that something was wrong with him, so I pulled him aside and asked what had happened. Instead, he came right up and slapped me twice, then kicked me hard several times."

"I was beaten into a daze and it took a long time for me to regain consciousness. I came here overnight just to ask him clearly why he did that, but who knew I would lose consciousness the moment I arrived? If you don't believe me, just go ask him."

Lynch didn't care whether Klein would refute it or not; in any case, he could only pay one pound for these medical expenses, or at most two pounds and ten shillings.

These medical expenses, which were enough to bankrupt him, absolutely should not be paid entirely by him.

Even a landlord has no surplus grain, let alone a poor and humble worker like him.

Furthermore, the original owner had only acted out of kindness, which was what cost him his life.

"I will ask him. If it didn't happen that way, you will need to give me another four pounds and one shilling, with that one shilling used to cover the cost of you slandering Klein."

Melissa pursed her lips, informing him with a look of dissatisfaction.

Lynch nodded, indicating that there was no problem at all.

He could guarantee that Klein wouldn't remember a single thing about what happened on the road.

"By the way, where is Klein?"

Lynch rubbed his head, where a lingering pain still remained.

Of course, his financial straits were also a part of what made his head ache.

With such a small amount of money, how was he supposed to become a Beyonder?

Whether the Stone of Myriad Phenomena helped him find a pathway in this world or generated a new one, he currently didn't even have the money to buy potion ingredients.

Melissa glanced at Lynch, her tone somewhat displeased.

"Klein went out to buy bread. Hmm, you'll also have to pay a portion of the bread money, about three pence."

Money, money, money—how could such a nice young girl have money on her lips every time she opened her mouth?

"I'll pay it all together once I'm better."

If Klein admitted to hitting him, then perhaps he wouldn't have to pay so much for food expenses.

Ignoring his conscience under Melissa's condemning gaze, Lynch stuffed his ten shillings into his wallet, pushing them deep inside for fear they might accidentally fall out.

"Oh, right, I'm still in a bit of pain and can't get out of bed. Could you help me find Benson and ask him to request three days of leave for me?"

Thinking of the original owner's boss, Lynch immediately used his thick skin to keep Melissa from leaving.

It wasn't that he truly couldn't get up; it was purely because, in the original owner's memories, Benson was incredibly reliable.

If he went himself, he would likely have a week's wages deducted by that skinflint of a boss.

But if Benson went to speak for him, he estimated he could get a big surprise.

This gentleman had once achieved the feat of taking a week off without a single penny being deducted.

"By the way, tell Benson that it was Klein who beat me up and that he's fully responsible. Hmm, if Klein doesn't admit it, I'll pay an extra shilling."

Lynch promised under Melissa's stern expression.

If Klein really didn't admit it, then he would definitely expose the true identity of The Fool before all the gods.

That's right, all for the sake of two pounds and ten shillings—no, now it was two pounds and twelve shillings.