Chapter 1
In a dark, damp dungeon.
Dozens of captured and trafficked slaves were imprisoned here.
These slaves served a special purpose.
Every week, they were forced into bloody, brutal gladiatorial matches.
All for the entertainment of certain kingdom nobles.
As a result, the death rate was extremely high.
Every day, someone died on the fighting platform.
"Hahaha! Ahahahaha!"
"I finally survived!"
"Hmph, those damn useless nobles."
"Once I get out..."
"I'll twist their heads off!"
At that moment,
a slave who had just survived the arena
stared at the plate of food and a few fruits placed in front of him.
Ignoring the blood still coating his hands,
he grabbed the food and devoured it ravenously.
He swore to himself: if he ever escaped alive,
he would turn this kingdom upside down.
Watching the prisoner's grotesque eating manner,
the other slaves in their cells showed no disdain—
instead, they drooled with envy.
Their eyes burned with longing as they stared at his plate.
In a remote cell,
a pale-faced young man silently observed the other prisoners.
He listened to their endless curses aimed at the nobles who had locked them here.
He simply held a filthy little girl tightly in his arms.
This young man was named Aitrias Vilin.
He was a transmigrator.
Two days ago, he had died suddenly at home.
When he awoke,
he found his soul had entered a stranger's body.
In his soul form,
he witnessed the original Aitrias Vilin's soul on the verge of dissipating.
With his arrival,
the fragments of the other's soul were drawn to him.
Soon, he realized his soul had fused with the original's.
Memories flooded Vilin's mind,
making him feel as though he had become the other person.
After fully merging with the original memories,
he understood the original owner's background.
The original was an orphan.
From the moment he could remember,
a kind family had taken him in.
They treated him well.
That family had a ten-year-old daughter—
the very dirty little girl now in Vilin's arms.
But good times didn't last.
A month ago, passing pirates slaughtered the entire family.
Fortunately, the original owner had spotted the danger and fled with the girl,
allowing them both to survive.
He had planned to find work to support them,
dreaming of raising Annie and repaying the family's kindness.
But fate had other plans.
The tavern owner who hired him turned out to be a human trafficker.
After drugging him,
the owner sold Vilin and Annie to this noble entertainment gladiator arena.
Upon arrival, the original fought his first match.
By sheer luck,
his opponent was a diseased slave.
He survived by a hair,
but suffered grave injuries.
Sensing his end was near,
he gave all the food to Annie.
That was how Vilin fused with the soul and took over the body.
After absorbing those memories,
Vilin was deeply affected.
An overwhelming urge to protect the girl surged within him.
It left him somewhat helpless.
But one silver lining:
after the soul fusion,
his senses had sharpened dramatically.
He could even feel others' emotions.
Growl~
As Vilin pondered how to escape with Annie,
her stomach suddenly rumbled.
Seeing Vilin look at her,
she shyly buried her small head in his chest.
"How long since you last ate, little Annie?"
Unable to resist her adorable reaction,
Vilin gently rubbed her head.
"One day... I think?"
Annie thought for a moment before replying timidly, still nestled against him.
Vilin stroked her dark hair tenderly.
Though filthy, it couldn't hide her cute features.
Sensing his gaze,
Annie shyly curled tighter into his embrace.
Her cuteness eased some of Vilin's heavy mood.
Clang!
The dungeon's metal gate was flung open from outside.
All prisoners turned toward the entrance.
"Damn it! Let me out!"
"Please! Let me go!"
"I don't want to die here!"
"Give me something to eat!"
A soldier in silver armor stepped inside.
The cells erupted in chaos as inmates shouted at the approaching figure.
"Shut up!"
"Quiet down, all of you!"
The soldier drew his sword with a metallic ring.
"Believe me, I'll cut you down!"
The prisoners shrank back instantly.
Silence fell over the dungeon.
Only then did the armored soldier sheathe his blade
and proceed down the corridor.
Seeing him seemingly selecting someone,
every prisoner held their breath.
Soon, the soldier stopped in front of Vilin.
He pointed at Vilin,
then at the thin middle-aged man in the next cell,
and said indifferently,
"You and you.
You're up next in the match.
I'll be back in ten minutes."
Realizing he had been chosen,
Vilin hugged Annie tighter in fear,
as if that could give him security.
He had never fought anyone in his life,
let alone killed.
He was, frankly, a weakling.
But with no choice,
he accepted his fate.
The helplessness of his life hanging by a thread filled him with unwillingness.
Annie, seeing Vilin selected again,
looked anxious.
Tears welled in her big black eyes.
Her small hands clutched his clothes desperately, afraid to let go.
Vilin sensed her emotions,
which eased some of his own tension.
Holding the trembling girl,
he said firmly,
"Don't worry.
Big brother will be fine.
We'll definitely get out of here alive!"
Seeing his determined expression,
Annie nodded.
"Annie will cheer for big brother Vilin!"
As they encouraged each other,
a cold laugh came from the neighboring cell.
The tall, thin middle-aged slave sneered at Vilin with contempt.
"Kid, give up.
I won't hold back.
But... that little girl in your arms looks nice.
How about handing her over for me to 'take care of'?
Ahahahaha!"
Hearing him target Annie,
Vilin's lingering fear turned to pure rage.
In an instant, he transformed.
Gone was the timidity;
his eyes became feral and vicious.
Staring coldly at the sleazy man,
Vilin roared,
"Anyone who dares harm her—I'll kill them!"
The middle-aged slave faltered under that beast-like glare.
Vilin watched him avert his eyes in fear,
then exhaled deeply to calm himself.
He slowly stood and began warming up his body,
preparing for the coming fight.
Seeing Vilin stretch,
the middle-aged man's face flushed with humiliation.
He had been intimidated by a brat.
His pride stung.
Watching Vilin's awkward movements,
he thought viciously:
I'll kill you soon, then torture that girl to death.
As he imagined it, an evil grin spread across his face.
Meanwhile, the real Vilin sensed a deep malice radiating from the next cell.
He grew alert.
Activating his heightened perception,
he probed the man's inner thoughts.
His eyes snapped open.
Face dark with killing intent,
he glared at the thin middle-aged slave.