Lock felt certain that he had transmigrated.
A moment ago, he had been standing on the award podium. The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself tied up in a dark, damp basement.
A moldy rag was stuffed into his mouth.
As for why he suspected transmigration instead of kidnapping?
Aside from the fact that his body had clearly become smaller, Lock also noticed a set of memories in his mind that did not belong to him.
He was Lock (I tried to keep the same name to avoid confusion)—the sole heir of a prominent noble family with a long history.
Today, he followed the merchant guild protected by his family to Mitras to study, preparing to inherit the vast family estate in the future.
Suddenly, he had been informed by his subordinates that he had a half-brother in the Underground beneath Mitras.
His father was gravely ill. With such an enormous family fortune at stake, who could say whether this brother he had never met would appear in the will?
That child absolutely could not be allowed to remain!
So he had come alone with a knife…
And was subsequently kidnapped by his gang-leader half-brother.
After sorting through the cause and effect, Lock did not know what to say. The original owner had only been thirteen years old.
How bold…
After struggling for a while, Lock realized the rope binding him had been tied with professional skill. It would not be possible to break free in a short time.
It seemed his so-called brother had kidnapped many people before and was quite experienced.
Just as Lock was studying how to loosen the knot, footsteps sounded from above.
Judging by the rhythm, there were at least five people.
Most likely his brother's gang companions.
The wooden floorboards offered poor soundproofing, yet Lock still could not hear the specific conversation upstairs. He could only vaguely tell they were discussing what to do with him.
Fortunately, he had not revealed the other party's identity as an illegitimate son. Otherwise, given the enormous interests involved, there was no telling what extreme measures the fellow might take.
While Lock was considering what rhetoric he should use next, the basement door creaked open.
A group of figures walked down the stairs toward him, their backs framed by the light from the first floor.
There were five in total.
Lock immediately spotted the blond youth with messy hair standing at the rear—the illegitimate son.
The leader was around thirty years old, with brown hair and a scar on his left forehead. He carried the air of a street thug and was idly toying with the dagger Lock had brought.
"Kid, you're awake?"
Lock did not look at him. He merely nodded.
The scarred man glanced back at the blond youth and sneered. "Not as tough as you said."
A lanky man beside him chimed in mockingly, "This brat probably nearly pissed himself. Might've been crying for his mother."
The five of them burst into laughter.
Lock lifted his chin slightly, gesturing toward the cloth stuffed in his mouth.
The scarred man pulled it out and said with a grin, "Go on then. Tell us—who are you? And how did my brother offend you?"
After a brief silence, Lock said, "Do you know the Leon family?"
The scarred man looked confused and turned to his companions.
One freckled lackey suddenly exclaimed, "Leon? That great noble family from inside the Rose? The head of the family used to serve as a councilor in Mitras?"
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
The scarred man frowned and stared at Lock. "Don't tell me you're claiming to be one of those nobles?"
Lock replied calmly, "Yes. I am the only legitimate son of the current head of the Leon family—Ash Leon."
From the memories of both his lives, Lock clearly understood that in this era, nobles of such standing were not people these underground thugs could afford to provoke.
As long as he revealed his identity, unless they were completely brainless, they would at least not dare kill him outright.
Of course, that depended on him not pushing them too far.
The scarred man narrowed his eyes. "How do you prove it?"
Lock rubbed the base of his right index finger. "The ring you took from me has my name engraved inside. You can check."
The scarred man pulled an exquisitely crafted ruby ring from his pocket.
At his signal, the blond youth found a candle in the basement, lit it, and brought it closer.
"Lock… Leon."
"It really is!"
Excitement filled the scarred man's face. His eyes gleamed as he stared at Lock, sending a chill down his spine.
"To think the son of such a big shot would fall into my hands one day!"
The moment Lock heard the tone of his voice, he knew things were turning for the worse.
Sure enough, the scarred man continued, "If we send one of his son's hands to Lord Leon, he'll pay any price to get him back!"
The freckled man paled. "Boss, that's a major noble from the surface. If we do something like that, the Military Police Brigade won't let us off."
Lock quickly searched his memories and added a warning of his own. "My father has connections with the commander of the Military Police Brigade—and people in the Central Military Police."
The scarred man seemed not to hear the threat at all.
With a vicious expression, he turned toward the blond youth, who looked terrified.
"Witte, this noble brat was trying to kill you just now, wasn't he?"
"Ah… I suppose so."
The scarred man roared, "Was he or wasn't he?!"
Witte's body trembled, but he seemed to understand the implication. He answered firmly, "Yes. His knife was aimed at my neck."
The scarred man grinned wickedly. "A big shot like this tried so hard to kill you. If we let him go, do you think he won't come back for revenge?"
Silence fell.
Damn it.
Lock knew that nothing he said now would change their minds. The movements of his hands behind his back quickened as he worked at the rope.
Still, he spoke urgently, "I made a mistake. I thought he was the thief who stole my money a few days ago, so I followed him."
"I only meant to force him to pay it back. I never intended to kill him!"
Smack!
The scarred man backhanded him across the face.
"Noble lords really are born liars. Learning to spin tales at such a young age."
After saying that, he ignored Lock and turned to rally the others.
"This brat is a gift from the Goddess. Do you know how many houses on the surface his life could buy?"
"As long as we're careful, those fools in the Military Police Brigade won't catch us."
"Witte, your legs are already showing symptoms, aren't they? If you keep rotting down here in the Underground, you'll end up crippled like the rest."
"This is our best chance to reach the surface."
Before he could finish, the scarred man noticed the sudden change in everyone's expressions.
He sensed something was wrong and quickly turned around—
Lock's elbow smashed horizontally into his temple!
"Buzz—"
His vision exploded with ringing as the sudden critical strike shattered his thoughts.
Before the scarred man could react, Lock stepped forward and drove an upward elbow into his jaw.
The scarred man fell backward in front of everyone.
Lock's slightly thin figure stood there, etched into their eyes.
The slap mark on his face made the ruthlessness in his expression even more terrifying than the scarred man's had been.
"You bastard—daring to slap your Grandpa Lock. Who gave you the nerve?!"
[Host's adrenaline levels detected rising. System evaluating.]
"I was the runner-up in the National Wushu Competition!"
[Conditions met. System starting.]
"Runner-up! Do you understand that?!"
[Eight Extremes Fist level +3]
[Great Spear Technique level +3]
"You piece of trash—even my own father never slapped my face. Who do you think you are?!"
[Host's base attributes increased]
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