Mystery: When the Lost Homelanders Meet the Lost Homeland Call

Seeing that Jenny had exhausted all her strength, Lynn went back into the alley, helped her up, and helped her to the side to rest.

The girl's strength was ultimately limited, and the bald man was still alive and had not truly fainted.

When he saw Lynn coming over, the horror in his eyes almost overflowed, and he struggled as if to run away.

"You can't just leave like this." Lynn strode up to him, looking down at him. "How much loan sharking has your Hammer Gang done in this area over the years? How much blood and sweat money have you squeezed from countless people?"

The bald man's lips trembled, and he couldn't speak.

"I want you all to vomit it all out, yes, all of it," Lynn said coldly.

"It's not just the money you took from Jenny's house, but all your money."

"I know you obviously don't have that much spare money, that's normal, gangsters' money comes in and goes out."

Lynn bent down and spoke each word carefully, nailing them into the bald man's heart like nails:

"Whether you borrow money or sell yourselves, give back all the money you've exploited from the common people, all of it."

"I...I..." the bald man's voice was hoarse, "I can't make that decision...I have to go back."

"Then tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow if that doesn't work," Lynn said. "One week, all the money."

"Also, deliver the money to her by this time tomorrow. If you're short even a penny, I'll personally come after you. And that won't be as simple as just getting a beating."

He swept his gaze across the thugs lying scattered on the ground, his expression serious: "You can choose to flee Tingen, or even go overseas. But let me give you a piece of advice: if I want to find you, you won't be able to escape to the ends of the earth."

The alleyway was deathly silent, save for the suppressed breathing of the crowd. Lynn slightly raised his chin: "Now, take your men and get out of here."

The bald man scrambled to his feet and called to his brothers on the ground to help each other run towards the alley entrance. They ran faster than rabbits, some even forgetting to pick up their weapons, and limped away, disappearing around the corner of the alley.

The alleyway fell silent.

Jenny leaned against the wall, slowly slid to the floor, covered her face, and cried silently, her shoulders heaving without making a sound.

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After a long while, Jenny raised her head, wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve, and said in a hoarse voice, "Thank you... thank you... I don't know how to repay you..."

"No need for thanks. I just did what I was supposed to do." Lynn waved his hand and then asked, "You know Melissa Moretti, right?"

Jenny was stunned.

"You...you know Melissa?"

"We know each other, you could say we do." Lynn nodded. "Her brother is my friend."

Jenny lowered her head, tears welling up again. She thought of Melissa, of her school days, of the times they went to class together, chatted together, and walked home together. Back then, she was just an ordinary schoolgirl with a complete family and a father who could earn money to support them.

Then everything changed.

Her father's workplace injury, the dockworkers' union's shirking of responsibility, exorbitant medical expenses, the trap of usury, moving from an ordinary neighborhood to a lower street, going from a student to a part-time housewife, going from thinking about where to play after school every day to thinking about where to get the next meal.

She didn't want Melissa to know any of this, so she distanced herself from her. She wouldn't let her come to her house, stopped replying to her letters, and stopped greeting her on the street. She would rather Melissa think she had changed than let Melissa see who she was now.

"You're Melissa's classmate," Lynn's voice pulled her back to reality. "She mentions you often."

Jenny's shoulders trembled slightly.

"Is she...is she alright?"

"It's alright," Lynn said. "Benson is still working, and Klein has found a new job. They're planning to move to a better place."

Jenny remained silent for a long time.

"Help me...help me tell her..." She bit her lip, "Just say...say I'm fine. I've just been too busy lately to visit her. I'll go see her once I'm less busy."

Lynn saw through her bravado but didn't point it out, simply nodding in agreement: "Okay. I'll tell her."

Jenny wiped away her tears, ignored the mud on her skirt, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and stood up.

"Sir," she hesitated for a moment, "what is your name?"

"Lynn," he said.

"Mr. Lynn," Jenny bowed deeply, "thank you."

Lynn waved his hand.

"Don't thank me yet. Thank them after they return the money."

Jenny's lips curved into a stiff smile; she seemed so unfamiliar with the expression of a smile that even the gesture became stiff.

"Will they... really send the money back?"

"Yes," Lynn said, her tone very certain.

Jenny was silent for a moment, then lowered her head and whispered, "But... even if you help me today... what about later? The Hammer Gang won't let this go... they..."

She couldn't continue.

Lynn knew what she wanted to say. He could help Jenny deal with this group of people today, but he couldn't stay by her side forever. After he left, the Hammer Gang would come back, and they would only be angrier and more ruthless.

Saving someone doesn't mean snatching her from the wolf's mouth and throwing her back into the forest.

"Where is your father now?" he asked.

"At home..." Jenny said, "He...he's still injured and can't get out of bed..."

"Take me to see it."

Jenny nodded and turned to walk deeper into the alley. After a few steps, she turned back.

“Mr. Lynn,” she said, “you said you did what you were supposed to do…but why would anyone think that helping others is something they should do?”

Lynn thought for a moment.

"Because the world is bad enough already," he said. "If everyone stops helping, it will get worse."

-

Jenny's home is in an old apartment building on Lower Street.

The building has five floors, and most of the plaster on the exterior walls has peeled away, revealing mottled red bricks underneath. The wooden stairs creak and groan underfoot, and in some places they've even rotted through, revealing holes underneath. The stairwell is cluttered with junk, and the air is filled with a mixture of musty and urine odors.

Jenny lives on the third floor in a small room of less than 15 square meters.

The room was small, so small that it could only fit a bed, a table, and two chairs. A middle-aged man lay on the bed, his face bandaged, his left leg in a cast, dangling from the foot of the bed. His complexion was sallow, his eyes sunken; he clearly hadn't eaten properly in a long time.

Seeing Jenny push the door open and come in, the man's eyes lit up: "Jenny...you're back..."

Then he saw Lynn following behind Jenny, and the light in his eyes instantly dimmed, replaced by fear and anger.

"Who...who are you?! What are you going to do to my daughter?!" The man struggled to sit up, but as soon as he moved, he grimaced in pain and fell back onto the bed.

"Dad! Dad!" Jenny rushed over and held him down. "It's okay! This gentleman is a good person! He helped me!"

The man was breathing heavily, his eyes fixed on Lynn like a wounded beast eyeing a potential threat.

Lynn didn't move forward; he just stood at the doorway, giving the man enough time to observe and judge him.

After a while, the man slowly relaxed.

"How did I help you?" he asked Jenny.

Jenny recounted what had happened in the alley. She described it in great detail, from how the Hammer Gang found her, to how the bald man forced her to "work," to how Lynn appeared, how she subdued the gangsters, and how she tore up the IOU.

As the man listened, tears of shame streamed down his face.

"It's all my fault...it's all my fault..." He pounded the bed with his fists, his voice hoarse. "I'm the one who ruined you...I'm the one who made you live like this...it's all my fault..."

"Dad!" Jenny grabbed his hand. "It's not your fault! It's not your fault!"

Lynn waited silently for the father and daughter to vent their emotions until they stopped before speaking.

"What's your name?" he asked the man.

The man looked up, wiped his tears with his sleeve, and answered in a hoarse voice, "John... John Coron."

"Mr. John," Lynn stepped forward and placed his hand on his leg.

There was no movement, but Jenny sensed an aura as deep and imposing as a mountain emanating from Lynn.

The power of the subspace entered this small room, reality was invaded, the rules were overwritten, and matter was reconstructed according to its will.

Then that aura vanished instantly. Lynn stood up, smiled, and said, "Remember to replenish your nutrition after you recover."

John gave a wry smile: "Nutrition... We're barely able to afford food, where would we get nutrition..."

He subconsciously moved his leg, then exclaimed in surprise, "My goddess, my leg is healed!"

He immediately rolled out of bed, wanting to kneel down and kiss Lynn's shoes, but Lynn stopped him from kneeling.

Even so, John kept thanking him, saying, "Thank you, thank you! You must be a great angel, yes, an angel!"

Ordinary people are unaware of the existence of extraordinary beings, but they genuinely believe in God and the authenticity of church scriptures. Therefore, upon witnessing Lynn's demonstration of healing power, the only thought that crossed their simple minds was:

That was an angel.

"I'm not an angel." Lynn helplessly helped John up and put him back on the bed.

"So... are you a member of the church?" Jenny asked hesitantly.

"No." Lynn shook her head.

"And you are...?"

"Just a sailor passing by," Lynn said, then paused and added, "A sailor who doesn't like seeing people bully others."

As he spoke, he took some change out of his pocket and placed it on the table.

"This..." Jenny's eyes widened. "This is too much... I can't..."

"This is a loan to you. You can pay it back slowly when you grow up and become self-reliant," Lynn said. "It's worth one gold pound. There's no interest, no time limit, and no IOU."

Jenny opened her mouth as if to say something, but her throat felt like it was blocked by something, and she couldn't speak.

John looked at the loose change on the table, then at Lynn, his lips trembling slightly.

He reached out and took Lynn's hand.

"Sir..." His voice trembled.

Lynn held his hand, patted it gently, and said, "Take good care of yourself. Your family still needs you to support them."

He straightened up and looked at Jenny.

"I'll handle things with the Iron Hammer Gang. They won't bother you anymore."

Jenny looked up, but before she could speak, Lynn had already pushed open the door and walked out.

-

Lynn did not leave the street immediately.

He found a simple coffee shop nearby, spent a few pennies on a cup of black coffee, sat by the window, and watched the people coming and going outside.

He just said with certainty that the gangs would return the money, but deep down he didn't believe the gangs would actually return it.

If it were just repaying Jenny's family, they would indeed do it; however, Lynn was talking about all the money, which, frankly, is no different from taking their lives.

So those gangsters either didn't really believe the bald guy and were prepared to fight him to the death, or they believed him and ran away with the money.

There's no option to repay the money, since they genuinely can't come up with that much.

Therefore, Lynn plans to "visit" the Hammer Gang's hideout tonight.

One lesson he learned on the Lost Home was that reasoning with bad people is useless. You have to make them understand that the cost of doing bad things far outweighs the benefits before they will stop doing bad things.

It's hard to make bad people realize they're wrong, but it's easy to make them realize they're going to die.

Smart people know how to calculate costs and benefits, and if they aren't smart, Lynn wouldn't mind being the one to "make them smarter."

He looked out the window at the bustling street below. There were workers hurrying by carrying toolboxes, women begging on street corners with babies in their arms, children squatting by the roadside drawing grids with chalk, and drunkards lying in doorways, still hungover.

These people, in the eyes of the gentlemen and ladies of high society, are the "lower class," the "poor," and "those who need charitable relief."

But in Lynn's eyes, they were human beings.

He is someone just like him.

They experience hunger, pain, tears, and laughter; they grasp at the last glimmer of hope in despair, and they also succumb to utter despair after hope is shattered.

Lynn put down her coffee cup and stood up.

He walked out of the coffee shop and stepped back onto the cobblestone street.

Sunlight streamed through gaps in the clouds, casting irregular patches of light on the dilapidated buildings on the lower street.

Lynn took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

"I'm going to change all of this," he told himself.

Lynn certainly couldn't achieve everything at once, but he would start from what was in front of him, from his feet, from every street, every alley, and every person in need of help that he could reach.

He doesn't want to kill a particular person or gang; he wants to kill the world.

It was already afternoon when Lynn returned to Old Neil's house.

Old Neil was sitting in the living room reading a book when he saw him push the door open and immediately put down his book and stood up.

"Sir, you're back." His gaze lingered on Lynn's face for a moment, as if trying to read something from his expression. "How's things downstairs?"

"Not good." Lynn slumped into the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. "It's worse than I expected."

Old Neil was silent for a moment, then sat down opposite him.

"Sir," he said carefully, choosing his words, "did something happen to you over there?"

"I encountered a group of gangsters harassing a girl." Lynn closed her eyes. "I chased them away, burned the IOU, and lent her a gold pound."

Old Neil paused for a moment.

"One gold pound?"

"Yes. It's from the money you gave me. I'll pay you back later."

"No... I didn't mean that..." Old Neil waved his hand. "I meant... you personally intervened just for... a poor person from the streets?"

Lynn opened his eyes and looked at old Neil.

"You think it's not worth it?"

Old Neil felt a little awkward under his gaze and looked away.

"I...I didn't mean that..." he said softly, "It's just...someone as powerful as you should have more important things to do..."

Lynn sat up and looked at him.

"Old Neil, what do you think I am?"

Old Neil paused for a moment.

"You are... a powerful being..."

"I mean, do you consider me a 'human being'?"

Old Neil opened his mouth, then closed it again.

He didn't know how to answer.

"I'll tell you the answer," Lynn said. "I am human. A person with past traumas, present confusion, and future goals. I've traveled a long way and seen a lot of suffering, but I still feel uneasy about the pain of others and angry about injustice. That's my humanity."

He paused.

"And humanity is the last thing I want to lose."

Old Neil remained silent for a long time.

Then he lowered his head and whispered, "I understand, sir."

"No, you don't understand." Lynn shook her head. "But it's okay, you will understand."

He stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the evening sky over Tingen. The setting sun dyed the clouds golden red, and a few birds returning to their nests flew across the sky, leaving behind a string of clear calls.

"Old Neil."

"exist."

"You said you wanted to resurrect your wife."

Old Neil's body stiffened for a moment.

"Yes..." His voice was a little hoarse.

"I won't give you false hope, nor will I promise success." Lynn turned to look at him. "But I can tell you one thing: I will keep my promise and help you according to my plan. Not because you are my kin, not because of your piety towards me, but because..."

He paused.

"Because Captain Duncan taught me one thing: in this world, what is truly worth pursuing is not power, but what you choose to do with it after you have it."

Old Neil bowed his head deeply: "I understand."

Lynn turned back and continued looking at the sky outside the window.

"Let's go to the pier tonight."

"What do you need me to do?"

Lynn's lips curled up slightly.

"Go and change something."

As the last rays of the setting sun disappeared below the horizon, the city of Tingen sank into a crimson twilight. In the distance, from the direction of the lower street, a long, faint whistle could be heard, like a sigh, or perhaps a bugle call.

Lynn stood by the window, his gaze passing over the spires of the wealthy neighborhood, the chimneys of the middle-class area, and the iron frames of the factory district, finally settling on the dense, gray buildings of Lower Street.