"Drip~" ... The cold water droplet, carrying a musty odor, dripped onto the lips of a small boy. The boy's lips moved instinctively, swallowing the water droplet into his stomach.
Perhaps the coolness of the water droplet awakened the boy's consciousness. He opened his eyes with difficulty; his black pupils were bloodshot, and his body was emaciated and skinny, presenting the absolute picture of malnutrition.
"Where... am I?"
"What about the Maybach?"
The boy propped up his body with difficulty. This simple action used up almost all his strength. With the elevation of his body, the surrounding scene gradually came into view.
A damp dungeon where the stench of filth and mold intertwined to induce nausea. Dim yellow light came from the corridor, giving one a repressive atmosphere.
The sound of footsteps echoed from time to time outside, a sound that made the boy instinctively feel uneasy.
Before he could react to what kind of situation this actually was, a violent pain struck from his forehead, hurting him so much that he gritted his teeth.
The boy touched his head instinctively, the blood particularly glaring under the dim yellow light.
That smear of scarlet stabbed deeply into his eyes like a sharp sword, and a large amount of broken memory fragments poured into his brain.
His name was Lin En, a twice-over transmigrator. In his previous life he was an engineer, and the life before his previous life was a bit unclear—it seemed he was a librarian.
In the last world he had no great ambitions, and the world looked no different from before.
It was just that perhaps because of being a transmigrator, he always had an intangible barrier between himself and the people around him.
A sense of loneliness often made his mental state somewhat chaotic, and he liked to mutter unclear languages.
After graduating from university, taking advantage of the lingering demographic dividend, he started a factory on his own. Sometime earlier, a client's equipment had problems, so he went to the provincial capital of Anhui to check out the situation.
Unable to resist the client boss's enthusiasm, he was crazily plied with alcohol at the drinking table.
At the time he was a bit too drunk, his head groggy, and he actually chose to cosplay Jiahao while walking by the roadside in heavy rain, somehow stepping onto a foggy overpass.
His memory was a bit disordered at the time; he only remembered that the rain was heavy, the bridge was high, the fog was thick, the out-of-control Maybach's headlights were dazzling, and the smile of the teenager in the driver's seat was crazy. After that, his memory disappeared.
After receiving the memories, Lin En tried to stand up, but his weak body caused him to fall heavily to the ground.
"Maybach... Does that kid have a driver's license? Driving like that? How many moms and dads does he have at home?"
"You'd better not let me catch you, kid. Insurance won't even help."
Lin En kept trying to stand up, his originally black pupils slowly lighting up with golden light, like ancient crimson-gold magma under the dim yellow light.
But those Golden Eyes did not last long before suddenly extinguishing. All sorts of incomprehensible languages appeared in his groggy brain, and Lin En simply figured it was an aftereffect of his brain injury.
About five minutes later, the double vision of the ground and the prison door slowly disappeared, and Lin En began to survey the surrounding environment.
The walls of the cell were full of black-brown, ferocious marks, and a fishy stench could be faintly smelled. The sense of unease in Lin En's heart grew stronger; that was clearly the residue of oxidized blood.
The light outside flickered from time to time. Lin En instinctively came to the side of the prison door, grasped the iron bars with his hand, exerted a little force, and then knocked on the pillar, feeling the metal material from the sound.
"Very good, alloy."
"Tyson couldn't pull it apart either; you'd have to get Ultraman Taro."
He pressed his face against the bars, trying to use his peripheral vision to check the situation in the corridor. The lights in the corridor flickered on and off, and Lin En felt a bit of incongruity.
"Is that thing an electric light?"
"What kind of ghost place is this? Hell?"
As a former engineer, he immediately felt that this light seemed a bit wrong, but he couldn't say what was wrong, feeling an inexplicable sense of irritability.
"Hell?"
"Kid, save your breath. This place is even worse than hell."
From the side of the cell where Lin En was located, a hoarse voice came over. Judging from the voice, the age was probably around thirty.
Taking two steps back, his gaze carried wariness, and the neighbor laughed again.
"Stop looking. Could there be weapons in this place?"
"Look at the girl who came at the same time as you. Her personality is much steadier; she neither cries nor makes a fuss."
"Oh right, I forgot, you didn't cry either."
"By the way, how old are you, kid? This vitality doesn't look like you're even a few years old."
Lin En looked around. Behind him were only damp water droplets and a moldy smell that hit his forehead; there were no surveillance cameras at all.
And that voice really did come from next door, so what kind of thing was the other party? Able to observe him through the wall? Could there be ghosts?
"This kid, what kind of expression is that."
"Sigh, another child who doesn't understand Soul Master knowledge. This damned world, all the knowledge has been completely sealed off."
"This is called spiritual power, kid. Good vigilance; keeping it up can let you live longer here."
Hearing the words Soul Master and spiritual power, Lin En's brow couldn't help but twitch. These were very ancient words in his memory.
During that period shortly after he left the orphanage in his previous world, he originally wanted to take advantage of his temporal advantage to see if he could be a plagiarist and write Douluo Continent and Battle Through the Heavens.
Later on, however, he discovered that remembering the plot and main storyline was one thing, but having the ability to write them was another matter entirely.
In the end, he gave up on that route because there were too many ways to make money. Back in that era, knowing the future meant even a pig could take flight.
Starting a factory and business to preemptively seize the mid-to-low-end electronic ecosystem and internet ecosystem was much more profitable than writing books.
"Soul Master?"
"Could it really be the one I'm thinking of?"
Lin En felt a sense of foreboding. During his lifetime as a librarian, he had indeed finished reading the Douluo series. The title of Soul Master wasn't necessarily exclusive to the Douluo series, but it was certainly the most famous one.
He stretched out his palm. The hand was exceptionally tender, with fine scars left on the back of his hand and scabs everywhere, signaling just how fragile this body currently was.
His memory was somewhat fuzzy; he truly had no idea what the current situation was. After being sent off by a Maybach, a black-haired girl's panicked face had indeed flashed in his dim vision.
"Number 1518, where is he?"
A person wearing a black robe and a black mask slowly arrived at the door of Lin En's cell. That voice sounded like the buzzing emitted by a broken drum pierced by a steel awl.
This person walked with almost not a sound.
"So he's here."
"He actually woke up? The recovery ability of a three-year-old child is this strong? It seems we've struck gold."
"Come with me to prepare to receive the baptism."
The door and floor cast from an unknown alloy emitted a harsh screeching friction. A large hand clamped tightly around Lin En's neck, forcibly taking him toward the depths of the corridor.
Lin En tried to struggle, but he felt as though there was an entire mountain pressed against his back; the gap in strength was simply too vast.
In the corridor, he finally saw what the person who had spoken to him looked like.
A disheveled man. The man's black pupils held a hint of anger, his voice was very hoarse, and his wrists and feet were covered in sci-fi-looking shackles and chains.
"He's just a child."
The robed man paused for a moment, his shoulders trembling slightly as though he were laughing.
"In order for the Holy Spirit to redeem the world, blood must be used for sacrifice."
"These children would just be beasts of burden for the nobles if they lived anyway, so they might as well contribute their strength to our grand cause."
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