"Mr. Lilin, would you like coffee or tea?"
In the luxuriously decorated living room of the Kiramman family, a maid was preparing tea for Lilin.
"Tea, please."
"You're very kind. This is my duty."
The maid placed a cup of faintly fragrant tea on the table in front of Lilin.
"Madam will come to see you soon after she finishes interviewing today's student workers. If you need anything, just call me—I'll be outside." After saying that, the maid bowed to Lilin and left the reception room.
Once alone, Lilin—tense until now—finally let out a sigh of relief and muttered to himself, "Ah… it's really not easy to come to another world."
Lilin was a time traveler who had recently arrived and replaced an Ionian boy of the same name, who had worked odd jobs at a compass repair shop near Sun Gate Pier.
Relying on his "experience" from countless games, movies, and novels—as well as the memories of his body's original owner—he quickly pieced together what kind of world he'd landed in: Runeterra, the setting of League of Legends.
Since his "birthplace" had been randomly assigned to Piltover—the cultural heart of the Valoran continent, renowned for innovation and hailed as the "City of Progress"—Lilin was naturally unwilling to remain a wage earner doomed to eke out a meager existence.
In a city brimming with steampunk aesthetics and arcane fantasy—so divergent from real-world historical development—it wouldn't be hard to rise to the top, as long as one embraced innovation and held onto dreams.
With Evolution Day approaching, Lilin, armed with a modern mindset, swiftly set his goals:
Plagiarize homework.
At first, he'd planned to become a literary counterfeiter—smuggling novels, comic scripts, and other media he remembered into this world.
It was the easiest path to fame. After all, no one from his original world could possibly sue him for copyright infringement here.
But then, an emotionless, mechanical voice inexplicably echoed in his mind…
[Name: Lilin]
[Occupation: Mechanic]
[Level: 1]
HP: 465/465
Mana: 50/50
[Combat Power: 5]
[Skills Mastered: Basic Manufacturing, Data-Driven Thinking]
[Wealth: 0 Blue Essence, 0 Orange Essence]
[Insufficient level—function not unlocked...]
After awakening his "golden finger," the system had assigned him the profession of Mechanic and "thoughtfully" granted him the [Data-Driven Thinking] skill.
This ability allowed him to temporarily digitize the world around him like a video game interface by consuming mana.
For instance, when reading a book, he wouldn't need to pore over every word—a progress bar would appear instead. Once it filled, he'd absorb the entire contents instantly.
It was this very skill that enabled Lilin to craft his "Pledge of Allegiance" to the Kiramman family—a mechanical design born from studying Piltover's engineering principles and fusing them with knowledge from his past life.
At this stage, Piltover's technology hovered around the steam era, with only rudimentary alchemical enhancements. The Industrial Revolution hadn't yet dawned, and high-energy devices still relied on Hextech crystals.
But Lilin knew from lore that Hextech technology was monopolized by the Ferros family—Camille's lineage. It was costly, environmentally damaging, and notoriously unstable.
After careful consideration, he decided to introduce something more practical and sustainable to the world: electricity.
Not only would it help him carve out a place in this forward-thinking city, but it also aligned perfectly with his identity as a Mechanic.
After a brief moment of daze, Lilin took a sip of the slightly cooled tea and began to look around the reception room, which was decorated in a manner that could only be described as luxurious.
The most eye-catching feature was a large family portrait hanging on the wall beside the staircase that led to the second floor, just next to the sofa.
The Kirammans even had a little girl posing with a custom rifle slung over her shoulder.
Caitlyn Kiramman—the daughter of the Kiramman family—was destined to become Sheriff of the Piltover Enforcers in the years to come.
Lilin had come to the Kiramman household specifically because of her.
As one of the champions in League of Legends, Caitlyn was essentially the protagonist of Piltover's lore.
While his gaze lingered on the family portrait, Lilin suddenly noticed a figure at the top of the stairs on the second floor.
Shifting his eyes, he saw a girl who bore a striking resemblance to the child in the photograph—but older now, clearly in her teens.
She had deep blue eyes and dark purple hair tied into a short ponytail that swayed behind her head. She wore a tailored brown hunter's jacket and carried a sleek, Piltover-style rifle across her back.
How come Caitlyn showed up just as I was thinking about her…?
The moment he recognized her, Lilin set down his teacup and stood.
"May the gears turn ever forward, Miss Kiramman."
"May they turn true, sir," Caitlyn replied with a slight nod.
She descended the stairs, stopped beside him, and studied the boy—who appeared to be about her age—with quiet curiosity.
His clothes were crudely stitched from the cheapest fabric available on the market; he clearly wasn't from any noble house.
He looked a bit thin, perhaps even underfed, and didn't seem like he hailed from either Piltover or Zaun. His features, however, suggested he was from the East—and were undeniably striking.
It just so happened that Evolution Day was approaching, and the Kirammans had been recruiting apprentices. He must be one of the candidates.
But interviews were held in the designated chamber—yet here he was, in the reception room, served tea…
That means Mother must have noticed something special in him…
Caitlyn quickly analyzed the information she had just observed and then looked away.
"Congratulations! My mother rarely thinks so highly of someone. The last one was Jayce. You should have met him just now."
"Uh… thank you."
Lilin scratched his head, puzzled—how could Caitlyn know all this when she hadn't even been present?
But then he remembered: Caitlyn was one of the best crime solvers in Piltover. That thought brought him some relief.
"Miss Kiramman, are you going out hunting?"
"Yes," Caitlyn smiled. "I like to track wild deer through the muddy forest fields or practice my shooting on hares. It's one of the few forms of entertainment my mother allows me."
Just as she finished speaking, the door leading to the corridor—on the side of the living room Lilin had passed through earlier—creaked open. The Kiramman couple walked in.
The moment she saw her parents, Caitlyn's expression softened into a sweet smile. "Mom, Dad—did the interview go well today?"
"Oh, the gears are turning," her mother replied. "Except for the first candidate, that young man from Ionia, the inventions presented by the other apprentices were a complete mess. None of them passed the test…"
Caitlyn's father noticed Lilin standing beside the sofa. His previously weary expression brightened instantly, and he laughed.
"Yes—this fine young man right here! It seems you already know him. His intelligence is on par with Jayce's!"
"Really…?" Caitlyn glanced at Lilin again, a strange look in her eyes.
This was the first time she'd heard her father praise someone so highly—not even Jayce had received such acclaim on his first visit.
And Jayce was considered a genius inventor by the instructors at Piltover University; his future achievements were expected to be extraordinary.
What kind of creation had this Ionian teenager produced to earn her father's approval—enough to be compared to Jayce himself?
Caitlyn was full of questions—and deeply intrigued.
"Alright, Cait," her mother said, smoothing her clothes, "if you're heading to the suburbs, best get going. We still have matters to discuss. And remember—don't come back too late."
"I know, Mom."
Caitlyn waved to her parents, nodded to Lilin, and walked out of the house without looking back.
After she left, only Lilin, Cassandra Kiramman, and Tobias Kiramman remained in the living room.
"Lilin—may I call you that?" Cassandra asked. "After all, we'll be spending quite a bit of time together, and I've never cared for excessive formality."
"At home, you may call me Madam Cassandra and my husband Mr. Tobias," she continued, "but outside, you must address me as Councillor Kiramman."
Cassandra and Tobias took their seats across from Lilin.
"Of course, Mrs. Kiramman," Lilin replied respectfully.
"Please, sit. Don't be so reserved. Our household isn't like the Medarda family's—we don't stand on rigid ceremony."
Cassandra crossed her right leg over her left, folded her hands over her lower abdomen, and leaned back slightly against the sofa.
Once Lilin was seated, she adopted a serious expression—though the corners of her mouth twitched upward just slightly—and said slowly:
"I believe you're an intelligent young man, Mr. Lilin. So let's not waste time on pleasantries. Straight to the point, then…"