Mystery: When the Lost Homelanders Meet the Lost Homeland Call

(This chapter begins the subplot of Lynn changing society. Basically, Lynn starts conducting social investigations, discovers and takes down a gang, and then rebuilds order in the dock area according to his own rules. Readers who are not interested in this part can skip directly to Chapter 28. Also, in Chapter 28, Lynn summarizes this experience during his conversation with Little K, so don't worry about missing anything in the story.)

Lynn ended up spending the night at Old Neil's house, just like on the first day.

It's absurd that a demigod like him would actually try to get a seat on the sofa of a Sequence Nine Seeker.

But reality is so unfair; he didn't have a single sulphur on him, and his only possession was in Klein's pocket.

Klein sneezed, then continued muttering Lynn: Damn it, give me back my money.

"Sir, you really don't need it—" Old Neil tried for the third time before going to bed to give up his bedroom.

"No need." Lynn had already sprawled out on the living room sofa, in a position like a stranded fish. "I'll sleep here; the sofa is quite comfortable."

Old Neil opened his mouth as if to say something, but seeing that Lynn had already closed her eyes, he swallowed his words and silently retreated back to the bedroom with the blanket in his arms.

The living room quieted down.

The gas lamp was turned off, leaving only the crimson moonlight filtering through the thin curtains and casting a pale red halo on the wooden floor. Occasionally, the sound of a carriage could be heard in the distance, interspersed with a few barks of dogs, before everything fell silent again.

Lynn lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling with her eyes open.

He can't sleep.

Although the sofa wasn't very comfortable, he had slept in much harder and colder places on the Lost Home. He couldn't sleep because he was thinking.

During the day, Old Neil treated him with an almost pious attitude, as if he were some kind of god descended to earth.

But Lynn could see something deep in his eyes: a fear of "hope."

Old Neil was afraid to believe him.

Because Old Neil had believed in something else and was then deceived. The "revelation" the Hidden Sage gave him—those words about resurrecting his wife, those seemingly within-reach hopes—were all lies, all a net used by an evil god to capture its prey.

Old Neil was almost dragged into the abyss by that net. If Lynn hadn't appeared at that moment, his fate would have been to completely lose control one day, become a monster who only knew how to mutter to himself, and then be executed by the Night Watchers.

Once bitten by a snake, twice shy; it's normal to be wary and fearful.

"Sigh, we have to take it slow. Friends aren't made in a day."

Lynn rolled over, buried her face in the sofa cushions, closed her eyes, and forced herself to fall asleep.

He had a lot to do tomorrow: he needed to find a way to make money, continue researching the secrets of his body, keep an eye on Klein's growth trajectory, and also—

He suddenly opened his eyes.

We still need to find that ship.

Lynn: My boat!

The lifeboat that brought him to this world, the small boat burning with eerie green flames. It vanished after he reached the shore, disappeared as if it had never existed. But Lynn could vaguely sense its presence; it had simply hidden itself, not truly disappeared.

Where is it hiding? Why is it hiding? Is it hiding on its own, or is something helping it hide?

  

These questions swirled in his mind, then swirled again, and finally tangled up with all the other questions, becoming an unsolvable mess.

Lynn sighed and closed his eyes again.

This time, he finally fell asleep.

The next morning, Lynn was awakened by the aroma of coffee.

He opened his eyes and saw old Neil standing in the kitchen, wearing his faded old bathrobe, heating water into the hand-grind coffee pot.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating his gray hair and the rising steam from the coffee pot.

"Good morning." Lynn sat up and rubbed her neck; sleeping on the sofa was indeed a sure way to get a stiff neck.

"Good morning, sir." Old Neil turned his head, a slightly awkward smile on his face. "Did you sleep well?"

"It's alright." Lynn stood up, folded the blanket, and placed it on the sofa armrest. "Do you get up this early every day?"

"I'm used to it." Old Neil poured coffee into two cups, handing one to him. "I'm getting old, I can't sleep for long anymore."

Lynn took the coffee and took a sip.

"yee——"

Lynn's face instantly contorted, and he almost spat out the coffee in his mouth.

Old Neil was so startled that his hand trembled, and he almost spilled his coffee. "Sir, are you alright? Is it not to your taste? Shall I make you another cup, one that's weaker?"

"It's nothing, it's nothing." Lynn waved her hand, then her eyes lit up when she saw the sugar jar on the table.

What happened next was something that old Neil would never forget.

Lynn unscrewed the lid of the sugar jar and began adding sugar—one spoonful, two spoonfuls, three spoonfuls, four spoonfuls… The sugar in the jar visibly decreased, and old Neil's heart clenched with each drop. That was sugar he had spent half a month obtaining from the night watchmen!

Lynn added a full twelve spoonfuls of sugar until the coffee level rose quite a bit before stopping, satisfied. He picked up a spoon, stirred it, and then... began to eat his coffee with the spoon.

Old Neil froze as he watched him spoonful by spoonful of the "coffee-flavored syrup" into his mouth. He had lived for over sixty years and seen countless strange and extraordinary people—people who drank blood, people who ate candles—but this was the first time he had ever seen anyone drink coffee like this.

"Sir," Old Neil said, sitting down opposite him with his coffee cup in hand. Watching him work, he hesitated for a moment, "What are your plans for today?"

"Yes." Lynn put down her cup. "I want to go down to the street and take a look."

Lynn is now a very proactive person. As a member of a major Eastern power and an activist, Lynn has never forgotten his oath. Even in another world, he still cannot bear the suffering of ordinary people.

Moreover, in Lynn's plan, the people are of paramount importance.

This is an essential component of the anti-divine anchor.

So after dealing with Klein's matter, Lynn set about changing the kingdom's order, and he happened to think of the Lower Street mentioned in the original work.

Old Neil paused for a moment.

"...Go down to the street?"

"Yes." Lynn nodded. "I want to see the real, other side of this city, and also collect some data."

Without investigation and research, one has no right to speak. A person who wants to change the world should first understand just how bad the world really is.

And it wasn't just a superficial attempt; Lynn wanted to conduct statistical research and obtain firsthand data.

Old Neil was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.

“Lower Street…is not a good place,” he said in a low voice. “It’s chaotic and dirty. The night watchmen occasionally get reports from there, but most of the time, their voices don’t even get through. When someone dies there, it’s like a rat has died; nobody cares.”

"I know." Lynn stood up and placed the empty glass on the table. "So I can go by myself. You can stay home and rest; you don't need to come with me."

Old Neil opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he just nodded.

"Sir," Old Neil suddenly took out a cloth bag and said as Lynn reached the door, "You need some money to carry with you when you're traveling. I have some savings here, please take it and use it."

"Thank you, Neil." Lynn didn't refuse, putting the cloth bag into his pocket. "I'll pay you back."

"No need, no need," Old Neil quickly waved his hand. "It's my honor to serve you."

Lynn smiled and said nothing more. He pushed open the door and stepped into the morning sunlight of Tingen.

Lynn walked along Narcissus Street, crossed Iron Cross Street, and passed the boundary between the middle-class and the slums. The buildings on both sides of the street began to grow older, shorter, and more cramped. The smell in the air was also changing, turning into a pungent stench of soot, sewage, rotting garbage, and cheap alcohol.

The clothing worn by pedestrians on the street is also changing.

In the middle-class areas, people wear neatly ironed suits, top hats, and ebony canes. Here, they wear patched old coats, faded coarse cloth shirts, and worn-out shoes with toes peeking out. Their faces lack the composure and leisure of the wealthy areas; instead, they display a weariness and numbness born from the relentless pressures of life.

Lynn slowed down and carefully observed everything around him.

A barefoot little boy ran past Lynn, clutching half a moldy loaf of bread, followed by several equally emaciated stray dogs. A woman sat on the doorstep washing clothes, the icy water making her hands red and numb, a crying baby on her back. Several ragged children rummaged through the garbage, hoping to find something to eat.

This was the first time he had truly seen the underworld's secrets.

He read the relevant descriptions in the original work and also read historical books, but there was an insurmountable barrier between words and reality.

You can use a thousand words to describe hunger, but you'll never know what hunger feels like until your stomach aches so badly in the middle of the night that you can't sleep.

Lynn knew what hunger felt like. Back then, when the Lost Home was traveling in the Warp, the jerky had an iron will and refused to let him eat it. Even knives and other steel objects, once they had a will, weren't very cooperative with Lynn.

But what he saw now was not his own hunger, but the hunger of the city. Tens of thousands of people were crammed into dilapidated apartments where even sunlight couldn't penetrate, struggling every day for a few pennies a job, willing to sell their health, dignity, and even their souls just to survive.

And all of this is considered "normal" by people in this world.

Lynn took out his notebook and began to conduct research, recording data on the environment, population density, income, and living standards.

The further down the street he went, the worse the environment became. There was more and more trash, the stench grew stronger, and the faces of the pedestrians became increasingly gloomy. Lynn could sense the wary, calculating looks people were giving him, as if they were assessing how much money he had in his pocket.

Lynn continued walking forward without a care in the world. With his current strength, nothing on the street could threaten him. Not to mention a few street thugs, even if all the Night Watchmen were to come out, they would hardly be able to harm a hair on his head.

Perhaps intimidated by Lynn's confidence, no one came to cause trouble for her.

The shops on both sides of the street were very dilapidated, mostly cheap general stores, pawnshops, taverns, and some houses with faded red lanterns hanging on them, with heavily made-up women standing at the door with empty eyes.

Lynn walked past a pub and heard a cacophony of laughter, shouts, and the clinking of glasses coming from inside. It was only nine in the morning, and people were already drinking. They were using alcohol to numb themselves, to escape this hopeless life.

Suddenly Lynn heard a young girl's voice, trembling with sobs, coming from a narrow alley.

"Please... I really have no money left... I will pay it back, I promise I will... Please give me a few more days..."

Lynn stopped, put away her notebook and pen, walked to the alley entrance, and looked inside.

The alley was dark and damp, with puddles and garbage everywhere. Five or six men were blocking the alleyway, surrounding a young girl.

The group of men was led by a burly, bald man with two thick, tattooed arms and a menacing scar on his face. Behind him stood four or five younger men, all with menacing expressions. Some were holding wooden sticks, while others had bulging waistbands, clearly concealing weapons.

The girl looked about fifteen or sixteen years old, wearing a faded gray dress with mud and stains on the hem. Her hair was disheveled, her face was pale, her eyes were red and swollen, and there were still traces of tears on her face. She looked like she had just been caught here after school, and she was carrying a patched schoolbag on her back.

"A few days' grace?" The bald man laughed. "Jenny, you've already asked for three 'days' graces. The money your father owes us, with interest, has now ballooned to twenty gold pounds. How do you think you'll pay it back?"

Lynn narrowed his eyes, and a dialogue from the original work suddenly flashed through his mind.

"After moving down the street, Jenny refused to let me visit her at her house anymore..."

"Hopefully, her father can recover from the trauma of his injuries and find stable employment again..."

Is it Melissa's classmate Jenny?

The girl who moved from an ordinary neighborhood to a lower street because her father was injured and her family was in trouble.

"I...I'll find a job...I'll work in a factory, I'll wash dishes, I'll do anything..." Jenny's lips trembled, and tears streamed down her face like a broken string of pearls. "Please give me a little more time..."

"Looking for a job?" the bald man interrupted her, his gaze sweeping over her with an undisguised greed.

"How much does a factory earn in a month? Two pounds? Three pounds? By the time you've earned twenty gold pounds, your father will be rotting in the ground! But you do have a job that's readily available. There's a boss in the East End who's hiring 'female workers' recently, with room and board included, for five pounds a month. If you go, you can not only pay off your debts, but also have extra money to treat your father's illness."

The men behind him let out a knowing chuckle, their eyes filled with lewdness and malice.

Jenny's face turned deathly pale instantly, completely devoid of color.

At fifteen, she certainly knew what they meant by "female worker".

"No...no..." She took a step back, her back slamming heavily against the cold wall, with nowhere left to retreat. Her body trembled like a leaf in the autumn wind, her voice filled with despair and fear, "I won't go...I'd rather die than go..."

"Dead?" The bald man's smile vanished. He took a step forward, his massive shadow looming over Jenny's small frame. "Your death is easy, but what about your father? No one in the Iron Hammer Gang ever dares to renege on their debts. If you don't give us an explanation today, don't even think about leaving this alley. Either you come with us, or... we'll drag your father to feed the dogs!"

The men behind him also took a step forward, tapping their wooden sticks against their palms, making a "snap snap" sound.

Jenny was trembling all over, and tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.

"I...I'll go..." Her voice was so soft it was like a mosquito's buzz, almost carried away by the wind.

"Speak louder! I can't hear you!" the bald man said impatiently, picking at his ear.

"Wow!"

Jenny practically screamed it out, her voice filled with despair and humiliation. After she finished shouting, she seemed to have all her strength drained away, sliding down the wall to the floor, covering her face and sobbing uncontrollably.

The bald man smiled with satisfaction.

"That's more like it." He turned to his men and said, "Take her back and 'treat' her well. Wait for the boss to come and pick her up."

Two men immediately stepped forward, grabbed Jenny's arms on either side, and tried to pull her up from the ground.

"Wait a moment."

Lynn stood at the alley entrance, his hands in his pockets, wearing the sailor uniform.

"Who are you?" The bald man frowned, looking Lynn up and down. His elfin face was quite unusual, and he was wearing a sailor's uniform, so he was probably a foreign sailor from the docks.

"Just a passerby," Lynn said, his tone as flat as if he were commenting on the weather. "I'm just a little curious, what kind of skill is it for so many grown men to bully a fifteen-year-old girl?"

"What's it to you?" A young man stepped forward from behind the bald man, holding a wooden stick, and pointed at Lynn, shouting menacingly, "Get lost! Mind your own business! Or I'll beat you up too!"

Lynn glanced at him.

His eyes were calm, devoid of any emotion, yet he inexplicably felt a chill. But emboldened by his numbers, he charged forward, swinging a wooden stick at Lynn's head.

"You little brat, you're asking for it!"

The next second, he felt as if he had been hit head-on by a galloping steam carriage.

He didn't even see how Lynn moved before he felt a sharp pain in his chest, and he was sent flying backward, crashing heavily against the alley wall with a dull thud, before sliding to the ground like a lump of mud. The wooden stick in his hand rolled far away, and he clutched his chest, his mouth wide open, but he couldn't breathe, his face turning ashen.

Then the bald man realized what was happening. He took two steps back abruptly, reached behind his waist with his right hand, pulled out a revolver, and aimed it at Lynn.

"You fucking—" He raised his gun and pointed it at Lynn, but there wasn't much force in his voice.

The opponent's movements were too fast; the bald man felt it was unlikely he could hit them.

"I hope I've just misjudged things, and that you're all actually good people. So, could you explain the situation?"

Lynn completely ignored the gun and questioned the leader.

Sweat rolled down the bald man's forehead.

"I...I'm from the Iron Hammer Gang..." The bald man's voice trembled slightly. "Our boss is...is..."

"I don't care who your boss is," Lynn interrupted him. "I just want to know, is that debt you were talking about real or fake?"

The bald man paused for a moment, then said, "Of course—of course—"

"I suggest you think it through before you speak. Because I have a problem: I hate being lied to. And I can see through lies."

Can he see through lies?

It wouldn't have been possible the day before yesterday, but it is possible today.

The night before last, at Old Neil's house, Lynn studied the use of "vision" and "celestial bodies" under Old Neil's demonstration.

Old Neil is a Sequence Nine Seeker. Beyonders of this pathway are skilled in ritual magic and spiritual communication. Their spiritual vision is more acute than that of Beyonders of the same level from other pathways, and their perception of spirituality is also more refined.

Lynn certainly didn't take the Seer's potion, but he could directly create a powerful enough celestial being to perform divination.

Once he understood divination, it became easy to discern the lies of ordinary people, so he could confidently say: I can see through lies.

"I...I'm telling the truth..." The bald man's voice was uncertain. "His dad did borrow money...we do have an IOU..."

Lynn nodded and turned to look at Jenny.

Is he telling the truth?

Jenny looked up at Lynn with teary eyes, a faint glimmer of hope burning in them.

"No!" Her voice was hoarse and shrill, filled with endless grievance and anger. "They approached my dad first! After my dad was injured at the dock, they came to our door, saying they wanted to lend him money for his medical treatment! They said the interest rate was very low, that many of their coworkers had lent him money before, and that they wouldn't chase after him for repayment... My dad can't read, so he signed the document! But after he signed it, they produced the real contract!"

At this point, she could no longer control her emotions and burst into tears.

"My dad was scammed and injured, and he's bedridden... They come to our house every day, causing trouble, smashing things, and threatening us... I really have no other choice..."

Jenny couldn't continue speaking; her sobs echoed through the narrow alley, cutting into the nerves of everyone present like a knife.

Lynn turned to the bald man, her voice as cold as ice.

Is it true?

The bald man didn't speak, but gripped the gun tightly in his hand, sweat pouring down his forehead. His spirit trembled wildly as his lie was exposed.

"No answer is needed," Lynn said. "I already know the answer."

He took a step forward.

The bald man instinctively took a step back, his gun still pointed at Lynn, but the gun was trembling.

"You...you stay away..."

Lynn's tone was icy: "Now, you have two choices."

He held up one finger.

"First, I'll beat you all up now, then find and destroy the IOUs, and from today onwards, don't bother this family."

He then raised his second finger.

"Second, you take out the IOU and destroy it on the spot. Then I'll beat you up, and from today onwards, don't bother this family again."

He smiled.

"Personally, I think the second option is more efficient because you can proactively hand over the IOUs first, saving me the trouble of searching. Of course, getting beaten up is unavoidable; it's just a matter of degree."

"Do you know how many people are in the Iron Hammer Gang?" the bald man still tried to sound tough, but his voice had completely lost its confidence. "Do you know who our boss knows?"

"I don't know," Lynn answered honestly, "and I don't want to know."

"Brothers!" the bald man shouted through gritted teeth, "Attack him all together! He's all alone!"

The group looked at each other, hesitated for a couple of seconds, and then two young men drew daggers from their waists and pounced on Lynn from the left and right.

Lynn sighed.

"It seems you chose the first option."

Lynn stopped, looked at the gun in his hand, and a mocking smile curled at the corner of his mouth:

"A gun is a good thing. Unfortunately, in your hands, it's just scrap metal."

Lynn moved with lightning speed; before the bald man could even fire, Lynn struck his wrist with a chop to the wrist.

"what!"

A crisp sound of bones breaking rang out.

The bald man watched helplessly as his hand was folded into a V-shape.

The two young men who made the move took advantage of Lynn's exposed back and simultaneously swung their daggers.

Lynn dodged the dagger that was thrust at him and slapped the man across the face with his right hand.

"Snapped!"

A crisp, loud slap echoed through the alley.

The man spun 360 degrees on the spot, then fell straight down, a bright red handprint swelling on his face, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, and two of his teeth falling out.

At the same time, the dagger on the right was already in front of Lynn.

Lynn reached out and precisely gripped the blade.

The man was overjoyed and thrust forward with all his might, trying to pierce Lynn's palm.

Then he froze.

The dagger remained motionless, as if welded to Lynn's hand. He strained with all his might, his face turning red, but he couldn't push it forward an inch.

Lynn gently squeezed his hand.

"Click—"

The tip of the steel dagger was twisted into a tangled lump of iron, and iron filings fell from between his fingers.

The man stared at the bare hilt of the knife in his hand, then at the lump of iron on the ground that had once been the tip of the dagger. His mouth gaped open, wide enough to fit a fist, and his eyes were filled with terror.

Lynn threw the lump of metal on the ground with a crisp clang. Then he punched the man in the stomach.

The man knelt down, bent over, and vomited a pool of sour water before collapsing to the ground and losing consciousness.

The bald man was terrified as he watched his men being taken down in seconds. He threw away the deformed pistol in his hand and turned to run.

But as soon as he turned around, he found Lynn already standing in front of him.

The bald man's legs buckled, and he collapsed to his knees with a thud.

"My lord! Spare me! My lord!" He kowtowed repeatedly, his forehead slamming against the cold stone floor with a thud. "I was blind to your greatness! I was out of my mind! I'll never do it again! Please forgive me this time!"

"Where's the IOU?" Lynn asked.

"Here! Here!" The bald man hurriedly pulled a folded piece of paper from his inner pocket, his hands trembling as he handed it to Lynn. "This is the IOU! Please take it!"

Lynn took it, unfolded it, and glanced at it. It was covered in harsh terms: outrageously high interest rates, unreasonably short repayment periods, and default clauses that could drive a person to despair. A standard "death contract" designed to squeeze the last drop of blood from the poor.

He handed the IOU to Jenny: "Please confirm, is this the one?"

Jenny got up from the floor, wiped away her tears, took the IOU, looked at it carefully, and nodded vigorously: "Yes... this is it."

"Okay." Lynn took the IOU back and tore it into pieces.

As the bald man watched the IOU crumble into pieces, the last trace of color drained from his face.

"To be honest, I'm not some kind of devil." Lynn clapped his hands, looked at the bald man kneeling on the ground trembling, and said calmly, "But, to bully a fifteen-year-old girl and force her to do that kind of thing, you really can do it?"

The calmer his tone, the more frightened the bald man became. He kept kowtowing, until his head bled.

"My lord! I was wrong! I was really wrong! I'll never do it again! Please forgive me!"

"Spare you?" Lynn smiled, a smile devoid of any warmth. "If I hadn't passed by today, her life would be ruined. Who would spare her then?"

Lynn slapped the bald man across the face, knocking him to the ground. Then, like a ghost, he appeared in front of the last two gang members, punching them both to the ground with lightning speed. He then picked them up and threw them onto the bald man.

He then picked up the two men who had attacked him first and threw them up as well.

Lynn turned to look at Jenny, her tone much gentler: "Jenny, if you could, would you like to try beating them up yourself? To vent all the pent-up frustration you've suffered."

Jenny paused for a moment, then looked up into Lynn's eyes. Those eyes were clear and warm, devoid of any malice, only offering sincere encouragement.

She looked at the bald man kneeling on the ground, then at the thugs lying on the ground groaning, and remembered all the grievances and pain she had suffered during this time, her father lying on the bed on his deathbed, and the abyss she had almost fallen into.

A flame reignited in her eyes.

Jenny nodded vigorously, her voice still trembling slightly, but incredibly firm: "Yes!"

Lynn stepped aside.

Jenny took a deep breath, walked up to the bald man, raised her hand, and slapped him across the face with all her might.

"Snapped!"

The slap was loud and crisp.

The bald man dared not dodge or resist, and could only endure the slap.

"This slap was for my dad!"

Jenny slapped her again.

"This slap is for those you've deceived!"

"This slap was for myself!"

Slap after slap, Jenny's hands turned red and swollen, but she didn't stop. Tears mixed with anger slid down her face and dripped to the ground.

Screams echoed through the alley for a very long time.

As the sun rose higher, its rays finally shone into the dark alley.

Lynn leaned against the wall at the alley entrance, watching Jenny finally vent her anger, slump to the ground panting heavily, and a slight smile appeared on her face.

"Local gangs, whatever, gangs are all the same, the underworld is disgusting," he muttered to himself.