Mackduff adopted us for one reason: to make money off us. He taught the orphans how to steal and beg. Sometimes, to make the children look even more pitiful, he’d break their arms or legs and send them out onto the streets to tug at people’s heartstrings.
Everything we got from begging, stealing, or scavenging had to be handed over to Mackduff. In return, he gave the orphans only the bare minimum of food. We never got enough to fill our stomachs.
Of course. If we were full, how would we look gaunt and sickly enough to win people’s sympathy? That also meant we couldn’t leave him—not without ending up like me, thrown out and all but certain to die.
Still, there were exceptions. The thieves got a little more to eat. It was still black bread mixed with dirt and ash, and a lot of it was moldy, but at least it kept them a little healthier. After all, thieves needed to be able to move around.
Everyone had a daily quota to meet. If a child fell short, Mackduff beat and berated them without mercy. But if one of us got caught stealing, he wouldn’t lift a finger to help—even if the child was beaten to death. He’d just act as though they’d never existed.
But even under such harsh treatment, some of us orphans had it better than the rest. That was Jayard, our big brother. He might not actually have been the oldest—we weren’t even sure how old we were—but he was the one who’d made it furthest among us.
He had a gift for thievery: a quick mind and nimble hands. In less than a second, he could lift something from someone’s pocket without them noticing. He exceeded his quota every day and had never once been caught.
So even the brutal Mackduff rarely hit Jayard. He was even pretty good to him, making sure he had enough to eat and warm clothes to wear. After all, Jayard was a gold mine.
But Mackduff wasn’t treating him well out of kindness. Jayard was simply useful to him. If Jayard ever defied him, he’d get beaten just like everyone else.
The memory that came to mind was of the last time Jayard got caught hiding food. Mackduff beat him savagely. He really did beat him as if he meant to kill him.
It started because Jayard knew Mackduff would never give us anything good to eat. Mackduff kept all the money for himself, so whenever Jayard went out to steal, he’d deliberately snatch some tasty food, hide it, then share it with the brothers and sisters who were still hungry.
In the memories of this body, that seemed to be the happiest one: getting to eat the delicious food Big Brother Jayard brought back.
By the standards of my past life, it was nothing more than ordinary bread or flatbread. But to a little beggar girl, it was the best food she could ever hope to eat.
Somehow, Mackduff found out. He beat Jayard badly and forced him to promise never to hide food—or anything else of value—again. Jayard only stopped getting beaten once he agreed to hand over everything he earned without a fuss.
Even after that, Mackduff didn’t trust him. He secretly followed Jayard when he went out to steal, and only let the matter drop after confirming Jayard wasn’t hiding anything. It showed just how little Mackduff would tolerate any child disobeying him.
Parula’s simple little mind couldn’t figure out how Mackduff had found out about Big Brother Jayard. But I could make a guess: one of the children had probably betrayed him and told Mackduff he was hiding food.
Mackduff didn’t even bother to hide it. He rewarded one of the children afterward, though he never said so outright. And after that, the child did their best to avoid Jayard and keep their distance.
The reason was even more ridiculous: the food wasn’t being divided fairly. Jayard was only one person, and no matter how good a thief he was, he couldn’t feed more than a dozen brothers and sisters every day. Besides, he was closer to some of them than others, so he naturally favored them. He was only a kid, after all.
So the child who’d already been jealous of Jayard went and informed on him. Jayard got beaten, and the other children lost their chance to eat their fill.
Those were the memories of this body that had just come back to me. This was basically a Western version of the Beggars’ Guild—except the leaders of these beggars, thugs, and thieves were never the chivalrous heroes you’d find in a novel.
On the contrary, they might’ve been the worst people in society, with no moral floor at all. They’d do anything for money, using the vilest and dirtiest methods just to stay alive. There’s no point talking about morality with someone who’s poor and has never had an education.
Just like now. Mackduff had abandoned Parula without a second thought—me, the original owner of this body—just because I was no longer useful to him.
“Get rid of her! She’s sick and there’s no saving her. Keeping her around is just a waste of food. Take her far away and stop bothering me!” Mackduff said coldly.
“She’s still alive! Please, let her come back. Maybe she can still make it!” Jayard pleaded desperately. Of course, he didn’t expect to be able to find a doctor. He could only hope I’d pull through on my own.
What he might not have realized was that the original owner of this body, Parula, had probably died of her illness not long ago. I’d taken her place—a person who didn’t belong in this world.
I’d managed to piece together a few thoughts from the jumble of memories. I hadn’t been reincarnated. I’d crossed into another world. That Big Fly had no idea what its reason was, but it had stuffed my head full of information and then dumped me here—in the body of a poor young beggar.
I was sure this wasn’t my old world. For one thing, I’d never heard this language before. The surroundings were also clearly different from anything back home, to the point that I couldn’t even tell what era I was in.
The alley where I was lying was narrow and cramped, and the buildings around me blocked most of the view. They looked a little like Western buildings from the Renaissance: black stone, tiled pointed roofs, and stained-glass windows. Some even had a Gothic feel.
The strange thing was, almost every window had been boarded up. The boards weren’t nailed on very securely, though. And neat rows of brass-colored pipes ran along the walls of the buildings. I couldn’t tell what they were for, but they didn’t look like water pipes.
The most eye-catching thing was a clean, imposing building outside the alley. It was far grander than the homes around here. A huge golden gear was mounted on the wall of the five-story building, slowly turning. It was at least three stories tall, and I could see plenty of smaller gears turning along with it.
That definitely wasn’t something you’d find in my old world. What the heck was it?
That settled it: I’d actually crossed into another world. But what kind of treatment did other people get when they transmigrated—and what kind had I gotten?
My body felt so heavy. My brain was like lead, and I felt feverishly hot and freezing cold at the same time. I was clearly still seriously ill, and this was the body of an orphan girl.
Figures. I’d never had any luck with mobile game gacha in my past life, and now I’d pulled the worst possible draw of all. My African luck was ironclad.
