Not Dead? Then What the Hell Am I Here For!

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"Damn it, these were all carefully selected top-tier goods. At the Nightingale Hall, they'd fetch at least this much!"

"Yeah... that price is about right!"

Lynn was jolted awake by a cacophony of noise. He forced his eyes open against a splitting headache, only to be met with cold iron bars and a few ragged "beggars."

"I... wasn't I in a hospital room? Where is this?"

His gaze swept across his surroundings, desperate to make sense of his current situation.

The iron bars before him weren't just a partition; they were a 360-degree, fully enclosed iron cage.

Inside the cage were several boys and girls huddled together. With their sallow, emaciated faces and tattered clothes, they looked no different from beggars.

Outside the cage, the scene was bustling.

In the noisy courtyard, several burly men with their chests bared were drinking and boasting, their foul language incessant.

Their exposed torsos were tattooed with bloody ghost hands, radiating a fierce, malevolent aura.

More importantly... these people actually had Western features!

The language they spoke was foreign, yet Lynn could understand the meaning perfectly, as if it were an instinct etched deep into his marrow.

Wait... he hadn't even left the country, had he? How did he end up in the hands of foreign human traffickers?

As his dazed mind gradually cleared, Lynn sensed that something was wrong.

His body... it had recovered?

He had been terminally ill, lying in a hospital bed for seven or eight years, his bodily functions long since withered away.

Though his entire body felt somewhat weak now, it didn't hinder his movement in the slightest. Lynn felt a long-lost sense of "freedom."

He looked down at his hands. They were gaunt and bony, but they didn't look like the hands of someone on their deathbed.

But these... these clearly weren't his hands!

Those hands of his had been with him for over twenty years, through countless days and nights, helping him pass the time.

Even if they had been useless in his final years, they wouldn't have been this slender and small.

Had he transmigrated? Or had he possessed someone else's body?

With no leads for the moment, Lynn decided to put the mystery of his identity aside and focus on surviving the immediate crisis.

Wait... did Mother Earth just dump him here like this?

Where were the transmigrator perks?

Where was the golden finger?

Where were the cheats?

"System brother?"

"Deep Blue, add points!"

"Open the newbie gift pack!"

"Gene lock, open for me!!!"

Lynn observed the movements around him while whispering to himself, trying to summon something.

But no matter how he tried, the expected golden finger failed to arrive.

Wait... no golden finger?

Then what the hell did you dump me here for!

Did you expect me to use my looks to become the number one gigolo in this otherworld?

The others in the cage watched Lynn muttering to himself, all looking at him as if he were an idiot.

Great... another one gone crazy.

"Yo, that kid finally woke up. He's the tenderest one in this batch."

A man with a mouth full of yellow teeth pointed at Lynn and laughed to his companion.

"Look at that smooth skin; if he's scrubbed clean, he'll definitely fetch a good price. The matron at the Nightingale Hall loves this kind of stock."

"It's a pity the boss keeps such a tight watch, or we could have had some fun tonight."

Yellow Tooth shook his head with regret, reached down to scratch his crotch vigorously, then pulled his hand out to grab a piece of roasted rabbit meat and shove it into his mouth.

The rabbit meat had a bit of a gamey stench, but it had a unique flavor nonetheless.

Seeing Yellow Tooth looking at him with such greed, Lynn couldn't help but feel a chill of disgust.

If he really fell into their hands, he might as well just end it all.

He had become someone else's "merchandise," stripped of all freedom.

If he didn't find a way out soon, he would truly be sold off to that so-called Nightingale Hall to "enjoy" himself.

Lynn first shuffled over to a few boys and girls who shared his fate and whispered, "Hey, where are we? Why are we here?"

The shivering group glanced at him but offered no reply.

Trapped in a desperate situation, they were in no mood to answer questions.

Only one girl, perhaps fourteen or fifteen years old, stared at Lynn's delicate face and felt a surge of pity.

If a face as innocent as this ended up in Nightingale Hall, he would suffer a terrible fate.

"This is the stronghold of the Bloodhand Gang. I heard they often snatch lone women and children. We were all captured by them, and from what they've said, they intend to sell us to Nightingale Hall."

At this, the girl's face turned pale; she lowered her head, and tears began to patter down.

Lynn was in no mood to comfort the girl. He lowered his head as well, pretending not to notice, and pondered how to escape.

A gang that trafficked humans? Begging for mercy would likely be useless; if they were soft-hearted, they wouldn't be in this line of work.

Fight his way out? Forget it; this malnourished body couldn't even shake the cage.

Buy his freedom? He was penniless and had no acquaintances in this strange world. What could he use to pay?

What if... he just joined them?

With his scrawny arms and legs, would they even take him?

Lynn's brow furrowed deeper. Since his physical condition was lacking, he had to demonstrate value in other ways.

Lynn's gaze swept across the courtyard again, noticing a thin man in the corner responsible for bookkeeping, who was frowning as he fiddled with a crude abacus made of black iron and animal bone.

The sounds of drinking and idle chatter in the courtyard were disrupting the man's thoughts, clearly causing him great annoyance.

It was obvious that this gang didn't have any high-level scholars; this man was surely the only "intellectual" the gang could produce.

Judging by his pained expression, the ledger was likely a massive headache for him.

This was his chance.

Lynn took a deep breath, used all his remaining strength to crawl to the edge of the cage, gripped the cold iron bars, and shouted to the outside, "Hey! I want to see your leader! I can help him make ten times more money than he'd get from selling me!"

His voice was raspy from thirst, and his full-throated shout sounded somewhat hysterical.

The others in the cage were startled by Lynn's outburst and hurriedly moved to the opposite corner, isolating him to avoid being caught in the crossfire.

The noise in the courtyard came to an abrupt halt. All the thugs looked over as if he were a fool.

Yellow Tooth paused for a moment, then sneered, "Kid, have you gone mad from fear? You, making money?"

"I'm not mad," Lynn stared at him intently.

"I can do accounts. I can sort out all your messy ledgers! I can even teach you how to make money grow!"

"Make money grow? Kid, you aren't joking, are you? Don't tell me you're some Wizard in disguise?"

Yellow Tooth's words drew a roar of laughter from the crowd, and even the "bookkeeper" who had been drawn by Lynn's words couldn't help but smile.

Lynn, however, had keenly caught the keyword—Wizard.

Could it be that there really were Wizards in this world?

He wondered if they were the kind of Wizards who lived in primeval forests, covered in feathers and war paint, shrieking at the sky, or if they were true practitioners of supernatural power?

It seemed this world was even more mysterious than he had imagined.