As Mel Carlo hesitated, the scar-faced man beside him secretly slipped a handful of copper coins into his hand.
“20 Oren, take it.”
“Thank you.”
Mel Carlo still hadn’t reacted, but he gripped the money and walked toward the gang’s minor boss standing before him.
In the game, the currency was all gold coins, but now the money in his hand was copper coins.
This world was very similar to the game, yet not entirely the same.
He walked forward slowly.
He couldn’t say he was afraid.
Instead, he found it interesting—a strange feeling.
The Elite Monster that he could instantly kill in the game was now the boss deciding his fate.
“Did you steal any money? Or do you want to taste the whip, kid!”
The fat gang boss scratched his belly with one hand and gripped a whip in the other.
A boy who’d just been whipped was kneeling before him.
Mel Carlo didn’t say a word, just handed over the twenty copper coins in his hand.
He still wasn’t sure what the purchasing power of these twenty coins was, or whether they could save him from a whipping.
“Only 20 Oren? Are you kidding me!”
Mel Carlo was kicked aside but spared a whipping.
Though he staggered to the ground, it was much more comfortable than being lashed.
By falling back upon impact, he could dissipate the force.
Though he didn’t raise his head, it wasn’t out of fear.
He just wanted to avoid making eye contact with this kind of person, lest he draw their anger.
The moment the man kicked, he was already prepared to roll with the blow.
A few more children were brought into the courtyard.
Judging by their appearance, they too had been forced to beg or steal.
Each handed over money, and those who didn’t received a whipping.
A small boy tried to shield a little girl and got extra lashes for it.
He curled up on the ground.
Mel Carlo couldn’t help in this situation—he could barely protect himself.
Mel Carlo sat in a corner of the courtyard, trying to make himself less noticeable.
Ank slowly walked over and stood beside him.
He looked at Ank.
This scar-faced man didn’t seem as bad as he’d thought.
“Uncle Ank, why did you help me?”
If he wanted to understand this world, he had to start with the people around the body’s original owner.
At least for now, the scarred man didn’t seem so bad.
“I just thought it’d be a shame if a kid who worked so hard to survive got whipped to death.”
“Oh.”
Mel Carlo felt a bit moved.
Being able to live again, dying would be a pity.
“Do you know? People under gang control have only one path—blend in completely like me and become the kind of person you once hated.”
“No other choices?”
Mel Carlo didn’t think he had to stay in this hellhole.
With his previous life’s memories, if he could just save up some funds, he was sure he could live better elsewhere.
“You can also choose to die. Never think about running. If you’re caught, you’ll wish you were dead.”
Ank seemed to see through Mel Carlo’s calm facade.
“Thank you.”
Mel Carlo stood up.
If you want to survive, you must adapt to the rules on your own—like a cockroach, adapt as fast as possible, instead of clinging to your old values in this world.
—
At night, Mel Carlo was locked in a room with other children.
There were no beds inside—only patches of straw and empty rice sacks to serve as makeshift bedding.
Various strange smells mixed together, making it hard to bear.
A gang enforcer distributed dinner—a small, hard piece of black bread that smelled sour and looked utterly unappetizing.
It was so hard and dry that it was difficult not to spit it out.
Staring at the iron-like black bread in his hand, he couldn’t help but wonder,
“Is this even food for humans?”
He’d done some good deeds in his past life—so why was he reincarnated as a beggar?
But the other children in the room didn’t seem to care.
Even this piece of dry, hard, black bread was a rare treat to them.
Some of the whipped children lay on the straw.
They hadn’t managed to get money, so they had no dinner.
A filthy little girl crouched beside the straw.
The injured boy had been whipped extra for protecting her, and now her stomach was growling with hunger.
But in a room full of beggars, no one would share the food they’d fought so hard to get.
“Hey, kid, you guys eat it. I can’t swallow it anyway.”
Mel Carlo handed the black bread to the little girl beside him.
The girl hesitated, but took the bread.
This also drew the eyes of others in the room—some children without dinner already looked hungry enough to fight.
Robbing food was a real possibility.
“Thank you.”
The girl’s voice was weak.
It seemed they weren’t familiar with each other.
There were many children locked in here.
A bigger boy lunged to snatch the bread.
Mel Carlo moved quickly.
Facing an opponent a size larger, direct confrontation would mean trouble.
The best choice was to choke him from behind—once the enemy lost balance, it was easy to bring them down.
“Give me the bread! Or I’ll hit you!”
The chubby boy swung his fist menacingly.
But Mel Carlo suddenly grabbed the boy’s neck from behind, using all his weight to pull him back.
Even though he was thin, this technique was still useful in a fight.
No matter how the chubby boy struggled, Mel Carlo easily pinned him, then punched him in the face twice.
“Stop! I was wrong!”
“You’re sorry, but will you steal again?”
Mel Carlo raised his fist.
He knew how to fight.
Because of unreliable parents in his previous life, he had to be even fiercer so as not to be bullied.
“I won’t! I won’t!”
Seeing their leader defeated, the other beggar children who wanted to snatch food didn’t dare move.
“Remember! My name is Mel Carlo. In here, I make the rules. Whoever I give bread to, it’s theirs. If I don’t give it to you, you can’t steal it!”
Mel Carlo punched twice more before letting go.
The reason for the extra punches was that many little punks would counterattack after begging for mercy.
He raised his voice so everyone in the room would know he wasn’t easy to mess with.
Even among the weakest, there’s a hierarchy.
The room quieted again.
Mel Carlo lay back on the straw.
The little girl beside him tore off a piece of bread and fed it to the boy.
Once he’d eaten enough, the girl shoved the rest of the bread into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed.
She turned to look at Mel Carlo.
“Hello, my name is Lily. Thank you so much…”
Her voice was soft, but sincere.
“It’s nothing. I couldn’t swallow that stuff anyway. That kid took the lashes to protect you, right? I saw it in the courtyard.”
“Yes, it was to protect me…”
The girl sounded guilty.
“What’s his name?”
“His name is Arkay.”
Lily’s hair was a dull gray, not quite white—probably from malnutrition.
The boy named Arkay had bright golden hair—a conspicuous color for a thief, so he was probably only good for begging.
He looked only six or seven—first or second grade in elementary school—but already suffering like this.
“What about that chubby kid? How is he so fat in a place like this? Does he steal food often?”
“Yes, but didn’t you know?”
Lily scratched her head and continued,
“Before, we all thought you couldn’t speak. They said you were sick and about to die, so you might not come back after today.”
Mel listened.
By this logic, the original owner died from illness, and he reincarnated into this body.
Now, the only information he could access was the Red and Blue Bar and level.
The lottery function had no points to use, and he didn’t even know how to get points.