To bury their mother's body, they had to sell some of their belongings. Otherwise, they would have to dispose of the body in the river under the cover of night—an emotionally unbearable prospect.
Hannah, the older sister, adjusted the kerosene lamp to make it brighter. The flickering light illuminated the idol of a demon in the corner of the attic. The metal patches on the statue's waist glowed coldly in the dim light—traces of coal ash used by Miryam to repair it, now resembling a gruesome wound.
This was the only valuable item left in the house.
"The whole Rust District is looking for that guy called the Ripper. The police and patroler are everywhere. Last week, they burned three old women in the East District just because their steam spirits sang folk songs." Hannah's fingertips traced some mysterious hieroglyphic engravings on the base of the statue. "If we're found with this, we'll definitely be sent to the stake!"
Her father's rough palm brushed over the unknown metal beard embedded in the statue, making a grinding sound against his lips. "Old Hawk bought half a magic doll's core last month for 15 shillings."
He glanced at Edrick, the man who had been loading cargo at the docks for twenty years, his eyes flashing with desperation. "I'll take it to the general store before dawn tomorrow."
In the end, the two men of the household decided to sell the demon statue. For families like theirs, every penny counted. In this cold season, failing to pay rent meant being evicted, and failing to pay taxes meant being arrested—both were certain paths to ruin.
Every day, people died prematurely for various reasons, but ultimately, it all boiled down to poverty.
Edrick stared at the empty eye sockets of the statue and suddenly remembered the scene three months ago when Miryam knelt in front of it. The little girl used scraps of cloth to sew a cloak for the stone statue, saying, "The deity will only appear when it is warm."
Now the cloak still hung on the statue's shoulders, but it had become the stake they were about to bet on the gambling table. Hannah's objections sounded like rusty gears grinding in her ears, but they couldn't drown out her father's whispers as he calculated the rent: "Ten shillings can buy half a ton of coal, fifteen shillings can buy twenty pounds of beef!"
"I'll go," Edrick said. "Your knees aren't fit for such a long walk in the morning."
Miryam immediately raised her hand: "I'll go too!"
Before Edrick could object, she continued, "Taking me along won't arouse suspicion."
The three adults exchanged glances. Miryam was speaking the truth: first, the likelihood of a child being a heretic was low, and second, even if the child had been abducted, that wasn't the Patroler's jurisdiction—it was the police's job.
"Patrolers would rather kick over a beggar's coal bucket than bend down to question a snotty-nosed kid."
The father's knees creaked in the morning mist, like rusty gears turning with effort. Edrick stared at the old man's knuckles gripping the coal cart handle, where old scars from the dock crane's steel cables still lingered, now turning purple from the dampness.
After sending Edrick and Miryam out of Ashrat Alley, his father pushed the coal cart toward the dock. Every day's wages were crucial to the family.
The brother and sister walked through the early morning streets and reached the riverbank when they were suddenly stopped by a shout.
"Stop!"
"Yes, sir!"
...
Edrick died just like that, falling like an insignificant rat on a dirty little road in the Rust District.
When he opened his eyes again, his fingertips were no longer digging into cold stone slabs, but sticky coal ash from the canal.
Miryam's tears fell onto his wrist, the warm sensation sending shivers down his spine. The wounds on this body were healing at a visible pace, the shattered skull emitting a dull pain like gears grinding together, but it couldn't compete with the sound of a human heart beating once more in his chest.
"Brother... you..." Miryam's voice was like a rusty spring, ready to snap at any moment.
Edrick struggled to sit up, noticing that his palm was still clutching a metal fragment from the statue. The jagged edges had cut through his skin, but there was no blood. The wound glowed faintly, as if countless tiny gears were turning beneath the surface.
"Let's go home first," Edrick said, glancing around. People were already beginning to emerge onto the streets. He pulled Miryam toward their home.
He was in a hurry to get home partly because the healing speed of his injuries was too strange, making it hard not to think of some kind of demonic power, and partly because the words of the patroller had caught his attention. Clearly, their operation had been reported.
On the way home, Edrick tried to comfort his sister distractedly while enduring the excruciating pain of the soul fusion in his mind.
Edrick's original soul was undoubtedly dead, but the Transmigrator had inherited Edrick's body and memories. However, those memories were fragmented and incomplete, giving the Transmigrator a strong sense of alienation. He knew very well that these memories did not belong to him and that he only had the right to read them.
The Transmigrator thought this was for the best. Just as history determines the character of a country, a person's memories determine their character. If the Transmigrator had completely inherited Edrick's memories, then he himself would not be sure if he was Edrick with the memories of the Transmigrator, or a Transmigrator with the memories of a native, and he would be caught in a vortex of self-doubt.
Simply inheriting these fragmented memories already caused him unimaginable pain; who knows how excruciating it would be if he were to fully integrate them.
This was also a highly inconvenient situation. The scattered memories needed to be organized and understood, and he would even have to relearn many basic facts about this world to continue living as Edrick, as his perspective as a statue was severely limited.
The transmigrator's consciousness could still return to that dilapidated temple on the mountain top. The temple had undergone some changes, and the originally broken plaque gradually became clear. It was actually the Chinese characters for "Sanctum of the Village Deity." It was a good thing that he had studied in China for seven years and was able to recognize these ancient characters.
Those three characters symbolized an Eastern deity, a guardian god of a village of low rank. This was somewhat disappointing to the Transmigrator. Since he had traveled through time, he naturally hoped to have a powerful golden finger, but how did he end up as a low-level deity?
However, as a doctor of agriculture and forestry with a thesis titled "Feasibility Study of the 24 Solar Terms in Intelligent Irrigation Systems," the Transmigrator had a natural affinity for agricultural gods such as the Village Deity.
Another change was the TV. He could tune it to the third channel, which was a library listing the Chinese names of various ancient books. However, he could only read a few of these books, and he had to pay Faith Essence Points to unlock them.
The ones that could be read for free were, in the transmigrator's memory, magical but seemingly useless abilities.
Rainmaking, sprouting, fertilizing, Cat Control Spell, Purification Spell, and even a spell to grant children? Could there be anything useful?
Moreover, the prices listed at the back of each book were very unreasonable. The cheapest one, Cat Control Spell, cost 1,000 Faith Essence Points! The most expensive one, Fertilizing, cost a whopping 10,000 Faith Essence Points!
He had only accumulated 1,800 Faith Essence Points in six months through the hard work and devotion of little Miryam, and he had already used 1,000 to revive himself!
Then he remembered that this was the Sanctum of the Village Deity, the deity who protected the farmers and the land. As expected of the Village Deity, the skills of the guardian deity of agricultural civilization were truly simple and unpretentious.
At the same time, the character status on Channel 2 also changed to:
Character: Edrick Croft
Race: Human
Occupation: Village Deity (Apprentice)
Age: 100 days
Lifespan: 9 months
Icon: None
Symbol: None
Manifestation: None
Talent 1: Faith's Bounty
Talent 2: Faith Sense
Faith Essence Points: 1000
Character Status: Injured (Healing), Angry
Skill 1: Cutthroat. Proficiency: Expert (very skilled at using sharp knives, very skilled)
Skill 2: Third Set of Low-Level Civil Servant Broadcast Exercises from the Celestial Theodome. Proficiency: Novice (This is a set of exercises required for low-level civil servants in the Celestial Theodome. It strengthens the body and is recommended to be done for 15 minutes every morning and evening)
Ripper? What kind of skill is that? Why is his skill level so high? And what is the Celestial Theodome Broadcast Calisthenics? Celestial Theodome? Could it be... the Celestial Theodome where gods live in a certain Eastern legend? The Eastern pantheon?
Obtaining Edrick's body was undoubtedly a good thing for the transmigrator, but it was not good news for the Croft family, because the real Edrick was in fact dead.
The transmigrator has mixed feelings about this sister. Edrick's fragmented memories have merged with some of his emotions and are influencing his thoughts. Through some of these fragments, the transmigrator discovers that Miryam is indeed a foundling.
Three years ago, one night, his father brought home a girl who had fainted on the pier and named her Miryam.
He had long suspected that the Croft family's genes couldn't be that strong. How could such an ordinary family give birth to such a beautiful little girl? Every time Miryam went out, they would deliberately dirty her. For a child from a poor family, being too beautiful was a curse.
Fortunately, Miryam was naturally intelligent. Whatever she learned, she mastered quickly. She was also clever and had never caused any trouble in the three years since she was found.
Moreover, since he had obtained Edrick's body, he had to live as Edrick.
The Transmigrator discovered that this parasitic resurrection had consumed an entire candle. Whether it was an accident or fate, he owed the little girl a favor.
As he walked, the Transmigrator sorted through the fragments of his memory in his mind, carefully controlling the speed at which he recalled them, because if the fragments merged too quickly, his brain would hurt terribly.
The scraping sound of a rusty crowbar against the wooden door echoed down the alley. As Edrick turned the corner, he saw a stranger's brass belt buckle collide with the laundry room door.
This good-for-nothing thug was using his greasy fingers to tug at Hannah's apron strings, trying to pull her out through the door crack. The steam whistle of Bella's alarm sounded sharply inside the door.
Edrick was in a bad state. He strained to recall who the man in front of him was while trying to make sense of the scene unfolding before him.
It was Griff, a gangster.
Good, very good, with enough effort, he would be able to remember. Just as the transmigrator was feeling relieved, some memories he hadn't intended to recall also flooded into his mind.
These memories were about Edrick himself.
"Damn, I don't want to see these memories..." The transmigrator helplessly discovered that his new body was actually that of a serial killer wanted by both the police and the patroler—the Ripper of Rust District!