"Oh! So you're asking who I am?" "That's a good question, my friend!" He stood before her, spat out the yellow sand from his mouth, raised both hands shoulder-high, and proudly proclaimed, "I am a big shot in Zaun's Undercity, the ninth councilor of Piltover. I am the honored hero of Bilgewater." "What have I done?" "I once set fire to the Petricite Grove in Demacia and competed in height with the Yordles in Bandle City." "..." Standing in front of her, he spoke confidently. "And now, I've encountered you in the swirling sands of Shurima." "Alright, lady, I've said my piece. Could you please put away your weapon now?" ////This is a translation, I do not own this story or any character in it. The original author is [子梓木] ZiXingMu and the link to this book is https://www.69shuba.com/book/39724.htm Gonna update 1 or 2 chapters a day cuz I got another book I'm translating.////
Beneath winding ravines and valleys—
It's dark, it's damp.
Gigantic pipes transport industrial wastewater recklessly, filling and polluting this place.
Amidst the foul odor of underground drains, in this harsh environment, stands a steel behemoth.
Covered in rust, shrouded in haze, green alchemical gas continuously spews from its body.
These are pots standing atop factories.
And in this underground city with its strange sights, outside a shop named "Old Zoran Repair Shop," a young man in a linen robe is currently holding an oil-stained wrench, bending over a massive mechanical arm in front of him.
Three strange glass tubes filled with eerie green liquid are inserted into the central slot of the metal arm.
As the young man keeps tinkering, bubbles rise in the glass tubes, and the green liquid gradually turns red, like boiling blood.
Seeing this, the young man steps back cautiously, then squints at the metal arm in front of him.
The arm, nearly half his size, begins to move on its own under the burning red liquid, accompanied by a thunderous sound. The young man chuckles and wipes the sweat from his forehead.
"Well, it looks like it can still be repaired, but how did it get damaged like this? No, he'll have to pay me extra for this. A small piece of Boro-iron should be around seven copper coins... so he'll need to add at least ten more copper coins."
"I won't scam him; adding the time and material cost, I should get at least two more coppers."
Linwin taps the center of the arm with his boot, then presses the red button on the central panel of the arm with his leather boot. The bubbles in the glass tubes dissipate, and the liquid's color changes from red to green.
Then, the massive metal arm becomes quiet.
Linwin reaches out, effortlessly lifts the huge metal arm, and walks into Zoran Repair Shop.
"You brat, how many times have I told you? You're not allowed to take on private jobs without my permission! Do you want to get into trouble? I've said it so many times, you're not allowed to take on those thugs' or gangsters' work without my consent!"
Just as Linwin enters the shop wearing his gloves, there's a clattering sound, and a short, smelly middle-aged men with an unpleasant odor appear in front of Linwin, as if emerging from a pile of iron.
That's the smell of machine oil, mixed with the scent of burning metal shavings.
Walking straight to the cashier's counter, he first notices a pile of "junk" on the table and angrily sweeps them off.
"Be more careful, Zoran. Those are all my treasures!" Linwin complains.
"Shut up, you troublemaking kid, you idiot, blockhead, you filthy, ya stinking stone crab, you solitary stone who only knows how to eat..."
Without stopping, he continues to spew these words at Linwin.
Ignoring Old Zoran, Linwin walks into a room. First, he hangs the metal arm on the wall, then he walks out of the room and looks at Old Zoran, saying, "To repair this gauntlet, I can charge one silver coin and twenty copper coins."
"That price is not bad..." Old Zoran suddenly changes his tone from scolding to a more favorable one, stroking his chin.
"I can give you fifty copper coins, and the rest will go to..."
Linwin tentatively says.
"Get lost!!! I've been raising you, teaching you for five years, and you dare to haggle with me? Is your thick skin itching again?" Zoran roars loudly, even grabbing a heavy object in front of him and throwing it straight at Linwin.
Seeing this, Linwin easily dodges, then stretches out his hands toward Zoran, with four fingers raised on each hand, and says, "Alright, alright, to thank you for raising me, Old Zoran, I'll split eighty coppers with you."
"No, you brat, I want that silver coin."
"Haha, you're quite the greedy old man..."
"Pot calling the kettle black, you stinking brat." Seeing Linwin standing there in frustration, Old Zoran laughs triumphantly.
Linwin didn't resist.
One silver coin is just one silver coin, even though Zoran can be a bit irritable and greedy. But Linwin knows the kindness that Zoran has shown him.
Zoran is simply not good at expressing himself; the reason he wants one silver coin is because of protocol.
As Linwin, an "apprentice," took on the job from the gangsters without permission, and they promised to pay one silver coin, it might be questionable whether they would actually pay. But if Zoran gets involved in this matter, things would be different. It would be seen as Linwin taking the job under Zoran's guidance, and if the other party refuses to pay later, Zoran can step in.
In this dark street, Zoran is quite a tough character.
Otherwise, how could he run a repair shop in a place like this?
"By the way, Vander wants to see you."
After laughing for a while, Zoran suddenly turned serious. He looked at Linwin and grumbled, "You haven't gotten yourself into trouble again, have you? Linwin Lorant, I've warned you countless times. You're not supposed to hang out with those kids in his tavern. You need to understand, you're different from them!"
"Yes, yes, yes, I know."
Here it goes again, the familiar lecture from Zoran.
Linwin lowers his head, picks up the "junk" that Zoran swept off the table earlier, and says, "Because they have no brains, they only have fists, but I'm different, I'm a thinker, I'm smart. So if there's a chance, I can try to climb that golden city of splendor. I can escape from this place covered in smog, this bottomless pit of darkness. I can stop being called a gutter rat by the topside people and become an aristocrat. That way, you, my foster father, can also benefit."
"And their future can only be as gangsters in the lower city or as drug peddlers, doing dangerous jobs. If they want something better, they have to go to the upper city's docks to work as exploited laborers, but they must learn to endure the condescending looks and words of the Pilties."
"Enough, Zoran, you've said this countless times, and I've answered you countless times."
Linwin rolls his eyes, bags up his belongings.
The topside huh. When Linwin first arrived in this world, he had a strong aversion to the undercity and longed for it.
It was bright, safe, with fresh air, a place of greatness and freedom.
It was full of academic vitality. And what about the undercity? Filled with toxic green alchemical gas that permeated the entire city, it was dark, cramped, and damp. People here breathed toxic gas laden with metal particles every day. It was incomparable to life in the top city.
But that was Linwin's thinking five years ago.
Why is Zaun in this situation? It's all because of the "great" Piltover.
Now, Linwin really likes it here.
Although it has always been shrouded in smog, Linwin sees the vibrancy of this place as on par with, if not surpassing, the top city. The residents here are diverse, and there's a rich cultural tapestry.
Linwin has embraced this place.
And this place has now embraced him.
"But you need to understand, I'm doing this for your own good," Zoran grumbles.
"Yes, yes, yes, old man, are you done? If you're done, I'm leaving."
Linwin tuts and, with his bag in hand, pushes open the iron gate.
Zoran watched Linwin walk away and angrily cursed, "You ungrateful, ignorant brat who doesn't know what's good for you! You'll spend your whole life as a gutter rat in this place!"
Linwin waved his hand and quickly disappeared into the thick smog.
As Linwin walks away, Zoran, who was furious a moment ago, puts up a helpless smile.
"If I were to leave, what would you do, old man? You have no children, and I'm the only apprentice you have. Do you expect someone to take care of you in your old age? The people here might not come to rob you, but if I were to leave, you might end up inhaling smog until you die in this shop, and no one would know. Someone has to come collect your body, right?"
"Besides,"
"I'm a Zaunite, you ungrateful old man."