To bury their mother's body, they had to sell some of their belongings. Otherwise, they would have to dispose of the body in the river under the cover of night—an emotionally unbearable prospect.
Hannah, the older sister, adjusted the kerosene lamp to make it brighter. The flickering light illuminated the idol of a demon in the corner of the attic. The metal patches on the statue's waist glowed coldly in the dim light—traces of coal ash used by Miryam to repair it, now resembling a gruesome wound.
This was the only valuable item left in the house.
"The whole Rust District is looking for that guy called the Ripper. The police and patroler are everywhere. Last week, they burned three old women in the East District just because their Steamsprite could sing folk songs." Hannah's fingertips traced some mysterious hieroglyphic engravings on the base of the statue. "If we're found with this thing, we'll definitely be sent to the stake!"
Her father's rough palm brushed over the unknown metal beard embedded in the statue, making a grinding sound against his lips. "Old Hawk bought half a magic doll's core last month for 15 shillings."
He glanced at Edrick, the man who had been loading cargo at the docks for twenty years, his eyes flashing with desperation. "I'll take it to the general store before dawn tomorrow."
In the end, the two men of the household decided to sell the demon statue. For families like theirs, every penny counted. In this cold season, failing to pay rent meant being evicted, and failing to pay taxes meant being arrested—both were certain paths to ruin.
Every day, people died prematurely for various reasons, but ultimately, it all boiled down to poverty.
Edrick stared at the empty eye sockets of the statue and suddenly remembered the scene three months ago when Miryam knelt in front of it. The little girl sewed a cloak for the stone statue with scraps of cloth and said, "The deity will only appear when it is warm."
Now the cloak still hung on the statue's shoulders, but it had become the stake they were about to bet on the gambling table.
Hannah's protests sounded like rusty gears grinding in her ears, but they couldn't drown out her father's mutterings about rent: "Ten shillings can buy half a ton of coal, fifteen shillings can buy twenty pounds of beef!"
"I'll go," Edrick said. "Your knees aren't fit for such a long walk in the morning."
Miryam immediately raised her hand: "I'll go too!"
Before Edrick could object, she continued, "Taking me along won't arouse suspicion."
The three adults exchanged glances. Miryam was speaking the truth: first, the likelihood of a child being a heretic was low, and second, even if the child had been abducted, it wasn't the patroler's responsibility—that was the police's job. "The patroler would rather kick over a beggar's coal bucket than bend down to question a snotty-nosed kid."
The father's knees creaked softly in the morning mist, like rusty gears turning with effort. Edrick stared at the old man's knuckles gripping the coal cart handle, where old scars from the dock crane's steel cables still lingered, now turning purple from the dampness.
After sending Edrick and Miryam out of Grayrat Alley, his father pushed the coal cart toward the dock. Every day's wages were crucial to the family.
The brother and sister walked through the early morning streets and reached the riverbank when they were suddenly stopped by a shout.
"Stop!"
"Yes, sir!"
...
Edrick died there, like an insignificant rat, lying on a dirty, rust-stained alleyway.
When he opened his eyes again, his fingertips were no longer digging into cold stone slabs but into the sticky coal dust by the canal. Miryam's tears fell onto his wrist, the warm sensation sending a shiver down his spine—the wounds on this body were healing at a visible pace, the shattered skull emitting a dull pain like gears grinding together, but it couldn't compete with the sound of a human heart beating once more in his chest.
"Brother... you..." Miryam's voice was like a rusty spring, ready to snap at any moment. Edrick struggled to sit up, discovering that his palm was still clutching a metal fragment from the statue. The jagged edges had cut through his skin, but there was no blood—instead, the wound glowed faintly, as if countless tiny gears were turning beneath the surface.
"Let's go home first." Edrick looked around. People were already starting to come out onto the streets. He pulled Miryam toward their home. He was in a hurry to get home for two reasons.
First, the speed at which his wounds were healing was too strange to be natural, making it hard not to think of some kind of demonic intervention. Second, the words of the patroller had left him deeply concerned; it was clear that their mission had been reported.
The second reason was that his head was splitting with pain.
On the way home, Edrick absentmindedly comforted his sister while enduring the excruciating pain of the fusion of souls in his mind. Edrick's original soul was undoubtedly dead, but the Transmigrator had inherited Edrick's body and memories. However, those memories were fragmented and incomplete, giving the Transmigrator a strong sense of alienation.
He knew very well that these memories did not belong to him and that he only had the right to view them.
The Transmigrator thought this was for the best. Just as history determines the soul of a country, a person's memories determine the soul of that person. If the Transmigrator had completely inherited Edrick's memories, he would surely have fallen into a vortex of self-doubt.
Moreover, just inheriting these fragments of memories had already caused him unprecedented pain. God only knew how painful it would be if these memories were truly fused together.
This is also a highly inconvenient situation. The fragmented memories need to be organized and understood, and he must even relearn many basic facts about this world to continue living as Edrick. After all, as a statue, his perspective was severely limited.
The transmigrator's consciousness could still return to the dilapidated temple on the mountain top. The temple had undergone some changes, and the originally broken plaque gradually became clear, revealing the Chinese characters "Sanctum of the Village Deity."
It was fortunate that he had studied in China for seven years and was able to recognize these ancient characters. Those three characters symbolized an Eastern deity, a guardian god of a village of low rank.
This was somewhat disappointing to the Transmigrator. Since he had traveled through time, he naturally hoped to have a powerful golden finger, so how did he end up as a low-level deity?
However, as a doctor of agriculture and forestry with a thesis titled "Feasibility Study of the 24 Solar Terms in Intelligent Irrigation Systems," the Transmigrator had a natural affinity for agricultural deities such as the Village Deity.
Another change was the TV. He could tune it to the third channel, which was the library, where various books were listed in Chinese. However, he could only read a few of these books, and he had to pay Faith Essence Points to unlock them.
The ones he could read for free were, in the transmigrator's memory, magical but seemingly useless abilities.
Rainmaking Spell, Sprout Spell, Soil Fertilization Spell, Cat Control Spell, Mind Cleansing Spell, and even a Childbestowal Blessing Spell! Was there anything useful?
Moreover, the prices listed at the back of each book were very unreasonable. The cheapest Cat Control Spell cost 1,000 Faith Essence Points! The most expensive Soil Fertilization Spell cost a whopping 10,000 Faith Essence Points!
He had only accumulated 1,800 Faith Essence Points in six months through the hard work and devotion of little Miryam, and he had already used 1,000 to revive himself!
Then he remembered that this was the Sanctum of the Village Deity, the deity who protected farmers and the land. As expected of the Village Deity, the skills of the guardian deity of agricultural civilization were simple and unpretentious.
At the same time, the character status on channel 2 also changed to:
Character: Edrick Croft
Race: Human
Occupation: Village Deity (Apprentice)
Age: 100 days
Lifespan: 9 months
Icon: None
Symbol: None
Manifestation: None
Talent 1: Faith Essence Offering
Talent 2: Divine Sense
Faith Essence Points: 1000
Character Status: Injured (Healing), Angry
Skill 1: Ripper. Proficiency: Senior (Very skilled at using sharp knives, very skilled)
Skill 2: Third Set of Low-Level Civil Servant Broadcast Exercises from the Celestial Theodome. Proficiency: Novice (These exercises are essential for low-level civil servants in the Celestial Theodome. They strengthen the body and are recommended to be done for 15 minutes every morning and evening.）
Cut Throat? What kind of skill is that? Why is his proficiency so high? And what are those Celestial Theodome broadcast exercises? Celestial Theodome? Could it be... the Celestial Theodome where gods live in a certain Eastern legend? The Eastern pantheon?
Obtaining Edrick's body was undoubtedly a good thing for the transmigrator, but it was not good news for the Croft family, because the real Edrick was in fact dead.
The transmigrator had mixed feelings about this sister, because Edrick's fragmented memories had merged with some of his emotions and were influencing his thoughts. Moreover, since he has obtained Edrick's body, he must live on as Edrick.
Because he discovered that this parasitic resurrection consumed an entire candle, whether by accident or by fate, he owes the little girl a favor.
The sound of a rusty crowbar scraping against a wooden door echoed at the end of the alley. As Edrick turned the corner, he just happened to see a stranger's copper-buckled belt collide with the wooden door of the laundry room.
This thug, who was always rummaging through the trash at the docks looking for gears, was using his greasy fingers to hook Hannah's apron strings, trying to pull her out from the door crack. Steamsprite Bella's alarm siren rang sharply from inside the door.
Edrick was not in good shape. He tried his best to recall who this person in front of him was, while trying to understand the scene in front of him.
It was Grif, a gangster.
Good, very good, with enough effort, he would be able to remember. Just as the Transmigrator was feeling relieved, some memories he hadn't intended to recall also flooded into his mind.
These memories were about Edrick himself.
"Damn, I don't want to see these memories..." The Transmigrator helplessly discovered that his new body was actually that of a serial killer — the Ripper of Rust District!