Chapter 4 The Hook of Trench Literature Still Haunts Me

“Have I traveled through time again, or is this a different planet?” Li Ang hadn’t expected the “Traveler” to whisk him straight from the age of interstellar travel to... the Republican era? Although the architecture before him matched the image he had of that period, he couldn’t be certain just yet.

He glanced down at his body and, upon confirming that the only thing he had brought with him was a pure white prison uniform, began pondering how to find himself a place to stay.

He definitely had no money.

“Or... do I?” Li Ang looked at the prison uniform he wore and began to consider his options. In his former interstellar world, this thing wouldn’t even have been fit for a dog. But context is everything. Just look at this impeccable stitching and the soft, silky texture of the fabric—anyone looking at it in this era would easily mistake it for a high-end garment. Who would dare say otherwise?

With that thought, Li Ang made up his mind. He strode up to a bun shop on the roadside and asked, “Excuse me, sir, could I trouble you for some information? Do you know where the nearest pawnshop is?”

The bun shop owner, busy kneading dough, didn’t even lift his head or respond—he simply continued with his work.

Li Ang would have liked to buy a bun to get directions, but his pockets were empty, so he had no choice but to persist, shamelessly repeating his question about the pawnshop.

Perhaps annoyed by his pestering, the owner finally looked up with a hint of impatience and gestured eastward. “Go two streets over and turn right—you’ll see it.”

“Thank you, thank you.” Li Ang took no offense at the owner’s attitude, instead expressing his gratitude sincerely before heading in the direction indicated.

Not long after he left, a few filthy beggars along the street exchanged glances, then quietly followed him.

The bun shop owner, seeing this, couldn’t help but shake his head. “Another hapless spendthrift about to get what’s coming to him... What miserable days we live in...”

Meanwhile, Li Ang found the pawnshop just as the bun shop owner had described, saving himself the trouble of having to go back and sock the man in the jaw.

As soon as he stepped inside, the manager behind the counter’s eyes lit up, and he greeted Li Ang with a perfectly measured smile. “Young master, what would you like to pawn today?”

Li Ang didn’t bother correcting the address. He pointed to his prison uniform. “How much do you think this is worth?”

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The manager was momentarily taken aback, then leaned out from behind the counter to give Li Ang a thorough once-over. “Surely you’re not joking, young master?”

He had been in the trade for years and could instantly tell that the young man’s clothes were of top quality—pure, unblemished fabric, rare to find.

Li Ang simply nodded and quickly shrugged off his top, handing it over. “Take a look—how much?”

The manager wasted no words, running his hands over the white shirt, appraising it in silence.

After a moment, he asked, “Is it just the shirt, young master?”

“If I pawn the pants too, how much will you give me?” Li Ang replied with a question of his own.

“One silver dollar.”

On hearing this, Li Ang immediately took off his pants, leaving only his underwear. “Deal. But you’ll have to give me another set of clothes—anything will do.”

He knew the offer was a rip-off, but he wasn’t in the mood to haggle. He needed to find a way to survive once he returned to his own world.

The pawnshop manager saw no problem with this and soon handed him a pawn ticket, a set of coarse linen clothes, and a silver dollar.

Donning the scratchy garments, Li Ang turned and left, planning to find a place to put something in his stomach.

He’d had enough of eating “Nutrient Ten” every day.

But Li Ang had barely taken a few steps before his way was blocked.

He frowned at the two beggars before him. “What do you want?”

Even as he spoke, Li Ang turned and bolted. He wasn’t stupid; he knew trouble when he saw it.

But he hadn’t gone far before stopping short, for two more beggars were glaring at him from behind.

A voice sounded from behind. “Hand over the money you just got, kid. Then have some fun with us, and we’ll let you go.”

To be honest, the first half of the sentence didn’t faze Li Ang. But after hearing the latter half, he couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. If it were some voluptuous, fair-skinned rich lady saying that, he might have considered it. But a beggar?

Get lost!

With anger and boldness rising in his heart, Li Ang turned and lunged at the speaker.

The suddenness of it stunned the other three beggars into immobility, and they could only stare as the pale young man tackled their leader to the ground.

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With the beggar beneath him, Li Ang straddled the man’s chest and rained furious blows down upon his head.

“Want some fun, do you?” he spat. “I’ll give you fun!”

The other three beggars finally snapped out of their daze and rushed forward to pull Li Ang off their leader.

But with their skinny arms and legs, they couldn’t budge Li Ang, whose physical strength, enhanced by the “Prisoner” role, now stood at 1.3.

Li Ang had never been in a fight before, but he knew that in a situation like this, all he needed to do was hurt one of them badly enough. A band of beggars had no discipline to speak of.

He ignored their feeble attacks, locking his hands around the neck of the man beneath him.

At last, seeing their leader’s face turn scarlet, on the verge of suffocation, the three beggars were seized by fear.

Who could have guessed that the pale, delicate-looking Li Ang would fight with such reckless ferocity?

They exchanged glances—and fled.

Sensing their retreat, Li Ang released his grip and glared at the beggar beneath him, whose eyes were bulging from lack of air.

“Now, whatever I ask, you answer—understand?”

A mix of relief and lingering dread welled up in Li Ang. If he hadn’t spent time in prison, he doubted he could have been so ruthlessly decisive today.

Did people really think prisons were full of gentlemen?

He felt no guilt, though. He didn’t believe for a second that these beggars would have let him go “after some fun.” If he hadn’t fought back, he’d have ended up as nothing more than a plaything.

Feeling the lingering pain from the scuffle, Li Ang mused, “If the 0.2 physical strength bonus from this gutter-level ‘Prisoner’ class is so noticeable, then the top-tier classes must be absurdly overpowered.”

“Lucky my class slot isn’t limited. I’d better get some useful information out of this guy.”

With that, Li Ang began his interrogation.