"Leo, this is my last warning."
"If you can't pay back what you owe, then get ready to fight for our Eye-Stabbing Gang. I really don't have time to waste on you anymore. How many times have I given you an extension?"
Leo got up from the hard wooden plank bed, rubbing his head and vaguely looking forward, only to hear the tall, thin man in front of him still talking incessantly.
"We've been friends since childhood, that's true, but money is money, and friends are friends."
"My words are done here, Leo. Think about it yourself." The man paused, his tone no longer sharp, but a little sorrowful as he said, "Leo, the era that belonged to us in the Black Alley is over. Joining them... it's nothing. Everyone's just trying to survive. The Black Alley isn't the Black Alley anymore."(T/N"I tried to search this black ally but there's none of it in arcane")
After saying this, the man turned and took two steps to push open the door without waiting for Leo's reaction. But before leaving, he tossed a clinking bag onto the table.
Leo finally snapped out of his daze, rubbing his throbbing temples. He looked up, his gaze confused as he surveyed his surroundings.
It was a small tin shack, probably only a few square meters in size. Besides a wooden plank bed, a small table, and a few clothes on it, there was nothing else to be found in the room.
"Zaun..."
"Marsen, Eye-Stabbing Gang..."
His memories gradually became clearer, and the headache-like pain dissipated. Leo's mouth widened as his memories flooded in.
"What the hell are you kidding me?!"
"I'm in Zaun? Piltover is above? This is Runeterra?!"
He sprung up from the wooden plank bed, dropping his gaze to his hands.
"I, wasn't I just playing Riven at home? How is this possible?"
"Transmigration?"
"I've transmigrated to Runeterra?"
"And it's to Zaun, of all places?!"
An expletive involuntarily burst out as Leo struggled to maintain his composure.
As his memories fully assimilated, Leo gained a new understanding of "the real Zaun."
Unlike the online bragging and joking about being a "Zaunese mom-killer," the actual Zaun, especially at this time, could only be described as dangerous and chaotic. No, perhaps calling it hell wouldn't be far off?
At least for him, a youth who had received nine years of compulsory education and was well-rounded in ethics, intelligence, and aesthetics, life in Zaun... was truly not fit for humans. This was an abyss, a bottomless pit, and very few who fell into it could ever climb back out.
But soon, Leo displayed an extraordinary ability to adapt. He first picked up the bag Marsen had left. Opening it, he found a pouch of coins, not many, but enough to sustain him for the next few days.
"Marsen..."
Leo showed a complex expression.
Recalling Marsen's earlier words, Leo felt a touch of emotion. The original owner of this body had disliked Marsen, believing he had abandoned his ideals and forgotten Vander. But in reality, Marsen had already done more than enough, because if not for him, Leo would have long since been caught by those Eye-Stabbing Gang thugs and thrown into the sumps to pick up trash.
No one would willingly become a scavenger in the sumps unless absolutely desperate. Wastewater flowing down from Piltover filled Zaun's underground world, and the toxic gases emitted from metal sewage and industrial processing wastewater could kill a person in minutes if they didn't have protective gear.
"Hmph."
Pushing open the door, Leo stepped out of the shack. His dwelling was a large tin-framed house, squeezed into an alley with a bunch of other dilapidated structures. He gripped the rusty handrail and descended the rickety iron ladder that creaked with every step. Leo walked out of the alley and then saw Zaun.
The grey-green smog was acrid and foul-smelling. Leo couldn't help but hold his breath. If not for the flickering neon lights, he would truly struggle to see the path ahead in such conditions.
Not to mention... this smog also contained tiny metallic particles. When the air was inhaled into his lungs, there was an unbearable burning sensation.
How did Zaunites even survive in this environment?!
Had they all evolved a second lung? Leo couldn't help but wonder.
But right now... what he should be thinking about more was how to earn money. As Marsen said, this was the last time. If Leo couldn't repay the gang's debt again, only two paths awaited him: voluntarily becoming a sump scavenger, or becoming the mangled corpse of a lost fighter, picked up by sump scavengers.
Taking a deep breath, the transmigrator Leo, following his memories, tried to find a temporary job in Zaun...
As night fell, the streets of Zaun became even more chaotic. Ever since Vander of the Black Alley died, the entire Black Alley had descended into madness. Silco had taken over the area and brought with him various forms of nightlife.
These nightlife activities did not improve the Black Alley; instead, they made it even more disordered. You could see drug addicts on the streets, as well as drunk old men thrown out of bars and being frisked by a group of hooligans by the roadside. Under the flashing neon signs, gaudily dressed women loudly hailed passersby.
Leo walked back to his house from such a street.
No need for locks, no need for keys. Just leave the door wide open. Locking it would only make you a target for the gangs. Leaving the door open, letting them come in and rummage, would instead cut off their ideas, since there was nothing to find anyway.
This was life in Zaun.
Leo lay on the wooden plank bed, his expression blank.
His adaptability was truly strong; it had taken him less than half a day to accept everything before him. But even so, Leo still felt uneasy.
His identity as a transmigrator, knowing part of the future's development, brought him no help whatsoever. In Zaun, it was a place where fists and money spoke, a place dominated by violence and chaos. Wisdom and technology struggled to take root and grow.
Could he really survive in this place?
All day long, Leo hadn't found a suitable job. There were no stable jobs left in Zaun. Violence had taken over everything, industry was falling behind, and everything was devolving into savagery.
The timeline he had transmigrated into was the "Double Cities War," which the designers explicitly stated was the main world timeline. He had arrived a few years after Vander's death, during the era when Silco officially took over the Black Alley and began to control Zaun.
What would happen in the future was a great war between Piltover and Zaun. Leo remembered that at the end of the first season, Jinx launched a rocket, so there was no doubt that only Piltover's frenzied retaliation awaited Zaun.
Retaliation from Piltover... it would be a miracle if Zaun could withstand it.
High-tech against cold weapons, the rich against the poor. Thinking of this, Leo honestly couldn't imagine how Zaun could win this war.
Maybe he should just run away early?
Run to Demacia. If there was any country in Runeterra that was best for commoners, it could only be Demacia. Its national power was strong, and it didn't exploit the common people. Although there was little room for upward mobility for commoners, at least they wouldn't be forced onto the battlefield as cannon fodder to die, right?
Leo knew his limits. He really didn't know how an ordinary person like him, relying on some hero stories from the internet and a bit of future knowledge, could survive in this chaotic and dangerous world.
As he pondered, Leo gradually felt sleepy.
Lying on the bed, Leo closed his eyes.
He wished he could wake up and find that everything he experienced today was just a dream.
He drifted off to sleep,
And in his dream, Leo faintly heard some muffled sounds.
The sounds gradually grew louder, then clearer.
[Game loading...] [Soul Blossom game loaded successfully.] [Entering Soul Blossom——] [Entry successful!] [Good luck, Summoner.]