"Valeria?"

Valeria entered hastily, then slapped Evran's cheek lightly. Her eyes glistened with tears, and her voice trembled.

"You bastard! You said you wouldn’t fight in the underground arena again! Do you have any idea how worried I was? I thought you were really dead!"

Evran looked at her for a moment before asking curiously, "You watched it? What were you doing there?"

As she examined Evran’s wounds, Valeria answered, "Yeah, Madam Lynette sent me to handle something there."

Evran clicked his tongue in irritation. "Tch, stay away from that woman. She’s dangerous. You should keep a low profile and avoid drawing her attention, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Valeria sighed. "But why are you still fighting in the underground arena, Evran? Didn’t we agree to escape from this hell together? If you die before that happens, I’ll never forgive you!"

Even as she scolded him, Valeria quickly took out her medical supplies and began treating his wounds.

"Precisely because I want to escape, I joined Gregor’s ranks and started fighting there," Evran replied calmly. "We need a higher position, or we won’t have the slightest chance. Besides, fighting there hones my strength."

Valeria glared at him as she cleaned a wound on his head. "And what if you die before that? You know better than anyone how close death is in that place."

Evran gave a faint smile. "If I die, so be it. But if I survive, I’ll grow stronger. Better to die there than live forever as a slave. Someone has to take the risk."

Suddenly, a sharp pain spread through his wounded head, making Evran groan. "Ahh! What the hell, Vale?!"

Valeria snorted. "You talk about death like it’s nothing. Have you ever thought about how others would feel if you died? If you don’t care about your own life, then don’t act all wise next time when you stop me from killing myself!"

Evran fell silent. Her words struck deep. He remembered a few months ago when he had stopped Valeria from ending her own life. Back then, he had spoken with conviction, saying that if someone wanted to die, they should at least do it in a way that would hurt the mafia. And now, here he was, speaking as if his own life had no value.

Irony. He laughed bitterly at himself.

After treating the wound on his head, Valeria moved on to the rest of his injuries. Her hands were skilled, her touch gentle. Evran’s abdominal muscles, though not well-defined, were at least noticeable—dry and lean, the result of both hard labor and malnutrition.

As she treated a wound on his stomach, Valeria asked, "Since when did your body start looking like this? I remember just two months ago, you were still a scrawny beggar."

Evran smirked. "So, you like it? If you do, you can be the first to touch it anytime you want."

Valeria glanced at him with an unimpressed look. "The first? Haha, your opponents in the arena touch it every day before me."

Evran shuddered at the thought. Teasing Valeria was not easy. She was too sharp and always had a quick comeback. In the four months he had known her, he had lost to her more times than he could count.

After finishing the treatment, Valeria looked at him seriously. "Alright, I’ve patched you up. Now get some rest. And one more thing, Evran… don’t do everything alone. You can always rely on me."

With that, she stood up and left, leaving Evran alone in his room. As he lay down on the cold, thin mattress, he began reflecting on the past four months of his life.

From what I can remember, I was just an ordinary chemical engineering student on Earth. I had a happy family, a peaceful life, and nothing truly remarkable about me.

I lived in a country where people were a bit ridiculous, but life was comfortable. That’s why I was so shocked when I suddenly got thrown into this harsh and brutal world. I still don’t know exactly how or when I was transported here.

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Did I die in my previous world and reincarnate into this one? Or was this transmigration? Because I wasn’t reborn—I simply took over another body in a different world.

I... miss my old world. I miss the comfort of home, the feeling of living without constant fear. I want to go back. I want to see my family again. I want to joke around with my college friends like I used to.

But that’s just an empty dream.

Ever since I woke up in this body four months ago, I haven’t found a single clue about this transmigration.

This body belongs to a fifteen-year-old slave named Evran Eldrake. His name is even similar to mine—Evan. It seems he had just died, and somehow, I took over his body. When I first woke up, my head throbbed from the flood of memories of this body’s previous owner.

From those memories, I learned that Evran was an orphan. His mother died in a war in another country, while his father and older brother fled as refugees to the Kingdom of Westland.

As they tried to escape by ship, pirates attacked. His nineteen-year-old brother was gravely injured in the battle and fell into the dark ocean, which was filled with anomalies and monsters. Evran and his father barely managed to reach Marisol Isle, a stopover before reaching the Westland mainland.

However, shortly after arriving, his father met a tragic end—not due to war or a great disaster, but simply bad luck. He happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time during a mafia skirmish.

What a tragic life. I used to complain about my so-called misfortunes, but compared to the previous owner of this body, I had no right to complain at all.

In this world, the weak don’t even own their fate.

After losing his father, Evran ended up as a street kid and eventually fell into the hands of the mafia, becoming a slave. He was forced to beg, steal, and endure brutal punishment if he failed to meet his daily quota. In the end, his body gave up. He died from the unbearable labor and abuse.

And then I woke up in this body.

This body was incredibly frail at first, barely 163 cm tall—shorter than Valeria. His eyes were gray, his black hair dull and messy. His pale skin stretched over a thin, malnourished frame covered in bruises and scars.

I was forced to live through the hell that the previous Evran left behind. Begging, stealing, and if I failed to collect at least two silver coins per day, I would be taken to the torture room.

I still remember it vividly—the searing pain when my fingernails were ripped out one by one. The suffocating sensation when they held me underwater, my lungs screaming for air. Every lash of the whip on my back left scars that reminded me just how cheap a slave’s life was.

I had never experienced such suffering in my previous life.

Each day felt like hell. I had to beg, get beaten, and endure torture. When I was on the verge of giving up, my fellow beggars helped me.

Valeria, Dorn, and Kai—they were the ones who kept me going. Now, Dorn and Kai had become mid-tier fighters in the underground arena. This world may be cruel, but there are still good people.

Nothing from my previous life could help me in this ruthless world.

People in my old world often fantasized about how fun it would be to start a new life in a magical world. Adventuring, having romantic encounters, and experiencing all sorts of exciting things.

"IT’S ALL BULLSHIT!"

They were merely indulging in fantasies to satisfy their imagination. In reality, life never goes according to our expectations. Did they think they were the main characters? That the world revolved around them, as if it was created solely for them to look cool and impress girls, like in the stories they read?

Evran felt emotions swirling in his head as he thought about this.

"Ungrateful fools. Living peacefully on Earth is an invaluable blessing."

The truth is, the world never cares about us. Whether we live, die, suffer, or rejoice, the world remains indifferent. If you are sad and despair, the world will not stop spinning to wait for you to rise again. If you live or die, the world continues to turn as usual.

The odds of survival for modern Earth humans in this new world are incredibly slim. Imagine—those who once enjoyed a safe, comfortable life, pampered by technology, suddenly thrown into this world, alone and without any knowledge. A world where civilization has taken a different path due to the existence of magic, a world filled with monsters and unknown dangers.

That is exactly what I am experiencing now.

I am not a warrior, not an adventurer, and I do not even have the talent for combat. But there is one thing I believe—my freedom and fate lie in my own hands. If I want to escape this place, I must fight for it.

From that moment on, I began training my body and fighting in underground arenas. It was risky, but I had no other choice.

The underground arena in Black Hollow, the capital of Marisol Isle, was divided into four main classes based on the level of brutality and the rewards.

Iron Class was the lowest level, where children and weaklings were forced to fight. They were only allowed to use their bare hands or light blunt weapons. The prize money was small, ranging from five to twenty silver coins per fight.

Above that was the Bronze Class, where more experienced fighters began to battle with blunt weapons and engage in free combat. The rewards in this class were greater, ranging from five to twenty gold coins. I was currently in this class.

Then there were Silver Class and Gold Class. Dorn was a fighter in the Silver Class.

And that was everything that had happened since I woke up in this body. Until now, I was still a slave.

As Evran reflected on his life over the past four months, he unconsciously felt tears streaming down his cheeks.

He encouraged himself in his heart. You’ve done well, Evran. Just hold on a little longer. Surely, after hardship comes ease.

“Damn it, I’m crying… How pathetic.”

Men don’t talk. They always appear strong in front of others, but when they’re alone, they always overthink.

Eventually, Evran fell into a deep sleep, preparing himself for the next day—one that might be even worse than today.