We were adopted by MacDuff with the purpose of making money for him. He would teach orphans skills in theft or begging, even breaking their hands and feet to make the children appear more pitiful, so they could gain sympathy on the streets.
All the earnings from our begging, stealing, and scavenging had to be turned over to MacDuff, who would only give the orphans a minimal amount of food, never enough to eat their fill at any meal.
That was only natural. If we were full, how could we look emaciated and gain sympathy? In this way, we couldn’t even leave him. Just like me, being thrown out was practically a death sentence.
However, there were exceptions. The members of the thief group ate a little more. Although it was still black bread mixed with dirt and ash, and much of it was moldy, it at least allowed them to be a bit healthier, as thieves needed more mobility.
There was a quota for daily earnings. Children who failed to meet the quota would be cruelly beaten and scolded by him. But if the children were caught stealing, he would never save them. Even if they were beaten to death, he would act as if that child never existed.
Yet, even amidst such harsh treatment, among us orphans, there was one who fared better: Older Brother Jayad. He wasn’t necessarily the oldest, and we weren’t entirely sure of our ages, but he was the one who was doing the best among us.
He had a talent for thievery, a sharp mind, and agile hands and feet. In less than a second, he could stealthily pickpocket someone without being discovered. He always exceeded his daily quota and was never caught.
So, even the brutal MacDuff rarely hit Jayad and was even quite good to him, ensuring he was well-fed and clothed, as he was his cash cow.
But MacDuff was by no means being kind to him; it was simply because Jayad had exploitable value. If Jayad disobeyed him, he would still receive a severe beating.
The memory I recall is the last time Jayad was severely beaten by MacDuff for hiding food. It was a beating that seemed intended to kill.
The reason was that Jayad knew MacDuff wouldn’t give them good food, and all the money was hoarded by him. So, when stealing, he would deliberately steal some good food to hide and then share it with his hungry Brothers and Sisters.
In the memory of this body, this seemed to be the most beautiful memory: being able to eat the delicious food Older Brother Jayad brought back.
Although, in my previous life’s memory, it was just ordinary bread or flatbread, for a beggar little girl, this was the most delicious thing she could ever eat in her lifetime.
Then, somehow, MacDuff found out about it. Jayad was beaten severely and forced to promise not to hoard any food or other valuables again. Only after honestly handing over all his earnings to MacDuff did the beating stop.
Afterward, MacDuff remained uneasy and secretly followed Jayad while he was stealing to confirm he wasn’t hiding anything before letting it go. This shows that MacDuff didn’t allow any child to disobey his commands.
Of course, in Parul’s simple mind, she couldn’t figure out why MacDuff found out about Older Brother Jayad. I, however, could speculate that it was very likely that one of the children betrayed him, informing MacDuff about his hidden food.
Because MacDuff didn’t hide his actions at all and later rewarded a child, though not explicitly stated. That child then tried to avoid and distance themselves from Jayad.
The reason was even more ridiculous: it was due to unequal food distribution. Jayad, after all, was just one person. No matter how skilled he was at stealing, he couldn’t satisfy more than a dozen Brothers and Sisters every day. Furthermore, some relationships might lead Jayad to show favoritism, as he was still just a child.
So, the child who had previously been jealous of Jayad went and reported him, leading to his severe beating. The other children also lost the opportunity to have their fill.
This is what I just recalled from this body’s memory. This is a Western version of a beggar’s union, except that the leader of these beggar hoodlums and thieves would never be chivalrous like in novels.
Instead, they might be the most wicked and morally bankrupt people in society, capable of any despicable and dirty means for money, just to survive. It’s meaningless to talk about morality with a poor and uneducated person.
Just like now, MacDuff unhesitatingly abandoned Parul, the original owner of this body, simply because she had no more use for him.
“Get out! She’s already sick and beyond saving. Keeping her is just a waste of food. Throw her far away and don’t bother me!” MacDuff said coldly.
“She’s still alive. Please, let her come back. Maybe she can still survive?” Jayad pleaded desperately. Of course, he didn’t expect to be able to find a doctor, only hoping that I could recover on my own.
Unfortunately, he probably didn’t realize that the original owner of this body, Parul, might have died of illness not long ago. I replaced her, someone who does not belong to this world.
I have also roughly organized some thoughts from the jumbled memories. I didn’t reincarnate; I transmigrated. That Great Fly, for whatever reason, after bombarding my brain, threw me into this world, into the body of a pathetic beggar girl.
I have confirmed that this is not my original world. For one thing, I don’t recognize the language, and the surrounding environment is also noticeably different from my original world’s style, to the point where I can’t even determine the era.
The alley I’m lying in now is narrow and cramped. The surrounding buildings block most of the distant view. These buildings resemble Western architecture from the Renaissance period, with black stone, tiled pointed roofs, and some stained-glass windows, even giving a Gothic feel.
What’s strange is that many windows are boarded up with wood. Every house is like this, although the boards aren’t nailed very tightly. Also, many neat brass-colored pipes snake up the walls of the houses. I can’t figure out their purpose; they don’t seem like water pipes.
Then, the most striking thing is a neat, tall building outside the alley, much grander than the surrounding residences. On the wall of that five-story building, there’s a huge golden gear, occupying at least three floors, slowly turning. Smaller gears can be seen interacting with it.
This is definitely not something from my original world. What is this thing?
From this, I confirmed that I had actually transmigrated. The question is, what kind of treatment do others get when they transmigrate, and what is my situation?
My body feels heavy, my brain feels like it’s filled with lead, and my body feels both hot and cold. This is clearly the aftermath of a serious illness, and it’s in the body of an orphaned girl.
As expected, I was never lucky playing mobile games in my previous life, and this time I drew the worst possible hand. Truly iron-clad African heritage.
