Ordinary Person, No Mother Named Kafka

Splash~!!

A basin of cold water was poured over his head in the darkness.

As the bone-chilling cold assaulted him, Night's body's consciousness began to awaken.

But before he could open his eyes, an aversive and indifferent voice echoed in his ears.

"If you're not dead, get up quickly and pull yourself together, you Servus (Latin for slave, also known as a speaking tool)."

What… voice?

Hearing these words, consciousness gradually became clear.

However, before he could grasp the situation,

Smack~!!

A whip lashed out and a searing pain shot through his back.

Night awoke abruptly, gasping sharply.

At the same time, clear memories flooded his mind.

Simply put, he had transmigrated… to a strange, barbaric, ancient Western world.

The exact time was unclear, but it had been about two weeks since he arrived in this world.

He had such a clear understanding thanks to his body's keen biological clock, seemingly altered due to the transmigration.

His senses had become sharper, allowing him to perceive the passage of time clearly.

He had a feeling that from now on, he would never lose track of time or himself in its flow.

However, this change was currently only useful for keeping track of how long he had been in this world.

Transmigrated for two weeks, he spent a week and a half wandering in the desert and finally finding a town, only to discover it was a civilization similar to the medieval Western Europe.

He hadn't yet determined the exact era or if it was a completely fictional world.

When, because of his distinctly handsome features, he was captured by slave traders with ill intentions and was sold to a slave owner.

Due to a long-term lack of food and dehydration, he fell into a coma and had been sleeping for three days.

Thankfully, his body seemed to have been strengthened during the transmigration, with a resilient life force that helped him survive without severe danger.

During his slumber, no one came to check on him.

Until—the slave owner who bought him, seemingly remembering the rare Eastern slave he had, decided to check on him personally.

Though his body didn't look strong or burly, his handsome face and unique exotic charm were likely to be favoured by wealthy ladies or eccentric noblemen.

The slave owner, intending to sell him to nobles for a good price, hadn't tormented him much after the high-priced purchase.

But with Night in a coma for three days, the slave owner was worried that he might die.

Hence, the scene just now with the slave owner checking on him and whipping him.

After the whip cracked, the slave owner paused;

Seeing that Night's body wasn't as resilient as those of the stronger slaves, he feared he might kill him with another lash.

This weak fellow..

"Be grateful for my mercy. I only whipped you once this time. Next time, you won't be so lucky.

Get up, you wretch… don't make me repeat myself."

At this moment—having fully recalled what had happened,

Upon hearing those arrogant, degrading words, Night repressed the overwhelming fury within and raised his head.

Seeing the slave owner's cold expression, every cell in his body trembled as he slowly lowered his head, indicating submission.

He had previously noticed the other party's armed presence, with a towering, muscular frame, standing at least six-foot-three.

Although Night was also around six feet, in his current weakened state, even a child could easily knock him over, leaving him with no means to resist.

'Can't resist—'

While it wouldn't be fatal, any resistance would likely lead to severe torment.

Having some understanding of how dark ancient Western European slavery was, Night knew that resisting now would be an utterly foolish decision.

To escape, he would have to wait for the right moment… for now, the priority was to address his hunger.

As Night obediently stood up,

"Good…"

"This is your reward." As if thinking and receiving were synonymous, the slave owner nodded in satisfaction.

He then took out the food and water he had brought.

After all, high-end slaves were inherently valuable, just like the walking bags of money.

So, who would be overly harsh or stingy with their money?

When the slave owner bought Night, he already knew that he had just been captured and had not undergone any conditioning or training.

For freemen suddenly reduced to slavery, the initial resistance was typically very intense.

But Night's current obedience greatly exceeded his expectations.

If it were those Greeks captured from the nearby battlefield, they would inevitably cause unpleasant disturbances daily, requiring strict discipline.

After all, no one likes a rabid dog or a troublemaker.

Conversely...

For those who know their place, even a cold-blooded slave owner wouldn't withhold a pretence of kindness.

The meal prepared for Night was quite sumptuous, with both meat and vegetables…and the food was not only not bad but quite good.

This was clearly not the standard fare for ordinary slaves.

To prevent slaves from regaining too much strength and thus having the means to rebel, and given the expense of meat, hardly any slave owner would waste it on their slaves.

Except for those specifically trained to be gladiators.

But Night was not in this category and did not look particularly strong, even if he ate and drank his fill, the slave owner wasn't worried about his ability to escape.

And, to sell him for a good price,

the slave owner needed him to quickly regain his physical appearance and spirit.

After two weeks of hardship, Night, despite having a good base, had skin weathered by wind and sand.

This did not make for a proper commodity.

A healthy and handsome slave should fetch a significantly higher price.

So, watching him devour the food ravenously, the slave owner didn't wait around, but rather, closed the cell and went to check on the other slaves.

It was at this moment when Night, who was furiously eating, suddenly froze, and stopped abruptly.

As if he had discovered something, his body shook all over.

'System?!'

It seemed not...

There was no response...

But within his soul, he sensed a vast, galaxy-like, cosmic, mysterious entity.

As his spirit slightly recovered from the meal, that dormant presence seemed to awaken as well, sweeping away his recent weakness, filling him with a swelling sensation that felt like his soul might explode from containing such immense energy.

It was as if the core of a planet had been placed inside an ordinary person.

An even more remarkable and astonishing scene than stuffing an elephant into an ant's body was happening right before his eyes.

But Night was certain that he had been just an ordinary person before this, with no mother named Kafka, no white hair or golden eyes, and no magical powers...

So,

What the heck is this?!

A transmigration bonus?