[The Great Gambler's System has been activated.]
- - -
Name: Leonard Runesforth
Age: 19
Status: A Lowly Beggar
Wealth: 0
Luck: 0
Mystery Box: 0
Skills:—
- - -
A holographic screen suddenly appeared in front of Leonard. His name, age, and stats were written on it.
"A lowly Beggar…" Leonard muttered under his breath, his mouth twisting in disgust.
"Wow. Fantastic. Just what I wanted to see after dying."
[This is your status, Host. All of your progress will be recorded here. Your wealth, your luck, and the number of Mystery Boxes in your possession.]
"Mystery Boxes? What the hell is this? Is this like some kind of slot machine scam?" Leonard narrowed his eyes.
[Correct.]
"Wait, what?"
[The Mystery Box function is the core of the Great Gambler's System. You can gain one as a reward or you may use your hard-earned money to purchase Mystery Boxes. There are three types: Bronze, Silver, and Gold.]
[The higher the grade of the box, the more valuable its potential rewards.]
"Potential?" Leonard repeated the word, suspicious of it.
"Don't tell me—"
[Yes. Each Mystery Box may contain powerful rewards, useful skills, or rare treasures. However, there are also useless items, duds, traps, and curses. Everything is random.]
Leonard's jaw dropped.
[That is the nature of gambling, Host.]
"Are you shitting me?! You're telling me I can literally throw my money away for garbage?!"
[Correct, Host.]
He clutched his head, half laughing and half losing his mind.
"Holy shit… this isn't even gambling anymore. This is next level gambling! It's like you made a casino out of my life!"
[Correct, Host.]
"God, I hate how honest you are." Leonard groaned.
The screen flashed again.
[Ding!]
[New Mission Generated.]
[Mission: Earn 10 Gold Coins or 50 silver coins in equivalent.]
[Details: Earn coins with your own hands. Show me your worth, Host.]
[Reward: 1x Bronze Mystery Box]
"You're kidding me." Leonard froze as he pointed to his filthy-looking body.
"You want me, while looking like this, to earn 10 gold coins? I don't even know this world!"
[Correct, Host.]
"And how the hell am I supposed to do that?! Do you expect me to walk around and beg for money?" His voice cracked.
[That is up to you, Host. Whether you beg, steal, or work, only you can decide how to earn your fortune. Good luck.]
Leonard's lips trembled, his hands shaking as he stared at the empty streets around him.
"You've gotta be kidding me…" He dropped his head into his hands. "I died and transmigrated to this unknown world… and now I need to work hard again…"
Leonard exhaled slowly, his breath shaky.
"I guess I have no choice, then…" he muttered. His words felt heavy in the empty street. It was as if even the silence wanted to mock him.
With a grunt, he pushed himself up and started walking. His bare feet scraped against the cobblestones. Each step reminded him of how pathetic his new life was.
At least, in his old world, he could waste money on booze and cards.
Here? He didn't even have a damn coin.
The first thing he noticed as he walked was the air.
It smelled… different.
It smelled fresher and more earth-like.
When he looked around, the buildings that lined the street weren't skyscrapers or even shabby modern apartments. Instead, they were wooden houses, crudely built but sturdy.
"It looks like the medieval era, huh?" Leonard muttered, scratching the back of his filthy head. "Perfect…"
People walked by him in pairs or groups. Men wore plain tunics and trousers, with some even wearing coats that looked like they belonged in a fair. On the other hand, women wore long dresses, some plain while some were with floral patterns.
Their clothes looked bulky and clean.
Leonard slowed his steps as his eyes scanned for opportunities. He noticed workers hauling lumber, blacksmiths hammering metal, and farmers unloading carts of grain at the edge of the street.
There was just pure labor everywhere he turned.
"Uh huh. Swinging hammers, lifting sacks, and bending your back till you snap," Leonard muttered. "Just what I needed…"
He tried approaching a group of workers carrying crates. But as soon as he got too close, they wrinkled their noses and moved faster, avoiding him. It was as if his presence alone poisoned the air.
A woman even pulled her child closer to her side, giving him a wary look.
Leonard frowned and sniffed his arm.
"Ugh." He gagged again.
"Oh God, I really do smell like shit…" He glanced at his ragged clothes. They were stained and tattered from who knows what.
No wonder people avoided him.
He looked like a disease walking around in human skin.
"This shitty place… but I can't blame them." He chuckled bitterly, "If I saw me, I'd avoid me too."
He wandered for what felt like hours, his eyes scanning desperately for something familiar. Just anything. But the longer he walked, the more horrifying the truth sank in.
The place was just different and so serious.
There were no taverns around with drunken fools spilling alcohol. There were no smoky gambling dens filled with dice and cards. There were no place where a man could waste his life away for fun.
Here, the people just worked hard. They woke up, walked around, worked diligently, and then they went home.
Leonard's jaw tightened as he leaned against a wooden fence, watching a group of men push a cart uphill.
"You're telling me… there's no gambling here? No drinking spot?" His voice cracked with disbelief. "How do people live their lives here?"
Leonard threw his head back and laughed.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me! I reincarnated in the one place where people don't gamble?!"
It was like pulling life out of him! It was even more painful than the stab he received.
"So what the hell am I supposed to do now?" he muttered. His eyes darted across the street, watching the men lifting heavy sacks of grain, their muscles bulging as they worked without pause.
Everywhere he looked, people were busy. Everyone had something to do.
Everyone except him.
"Ten golden coins, huh?" Leonard's eyes roamed the ground aimlessly, until he noticed something..
Scraps.
All around, there were broken planks. Rusted nails, scraps of metal.
"Wait." Leonard froze. Slowly, his lips parted.
He crouched, picking up a bent piece of copper. It was ugly, but it was still solid metal. He turned it over in his hand, his mind spinning.
"Should I just… sell scraps?"