Steampunk Era: Mad Abield

So cold, Malin cautiously avoided the icy streets, clad in tattered clothes, the meager body of its owner surveying this unfamiliar city. It had been seven days since arriving, and the last piece of bread at 'home' was consumed the day before yesterday. After scouring the familiar yet strange abode he resided in, finding no semblance of currency, Malin had no choice but to step outside—if not venturing out meant freezing to death, staying in meant starving to death.

Speaking of the past few days, Malin didn't know whether to consider himself unlucky or lucky—if you talk about bad luck, it indeed was bad luck. Others play the hero saving kids from under a vehicle; when he went to save a child, the car actually sped up, encountering someone who mistook the accelerator for the brake, if that's not misfortune, what is?

But speaking of bad luck... as a forty-year-old corporate drone, dying from a car crash while saving a child but being able to transmigrate to another world, reborn into a body of a child that seemed no older than ten in the mirror, can that be considered misfortune?

This was almost like living once again, so faced with his own incoherent dialectical relationship, Malin didn't know whether to cry or laugh.

Moreover, he had a very big problem—he was so hungry.

For some reason, his tiny body was incredibly voracious, a long loaf of bread could only satisfy one meal, filling him only halfway.

Could it be that after transmigration, he was fated to a tragic end of starvation?

Harboring such sorrowful thoughts, Malin leaned against the wall, feeling completely drained he slid down and sat at the corner of the street—first, let's rest for a bit.

It had been most of the day since this morning, and he hadn't found any work or food.

Although there was a nun on the streets earlier distributing bread, he saw the poor people using a kind of card to receive it, and Malin felt he probably didn't have such a card.

Besides, having arms and legs, why compete with those unfortunate people missing limbs for that piece of dark, murky bread?

Who knows whether it contained more sawdust or flour.

Ah, where are all those kind-hearted young ladies from novels, comics, and animations?

Here's a pitiful child being tormented by hunger, facing the harsh afflictions of cold and starvation.

......

Crossing the street, the middle-aged man carefully avoided the ice on the road, this winter forcing him to tighten his collar. As he rounded the corner, he noticed the small child sitting by the street.

He walked past him.

This damned world, people die every day, some from starvation, some from exhaustion, while others... live and die dreaming.

Fate is so unfair. The young nobility from the north of the city never worry about livelihood from birth, while some bastard from the south can only wear flimsy clothes, which shiver in the autumn wind and falling leaves.

Where are their parents? Carterburg hasn't seen any natural disasters in the recent years, some people yearn for a child and cannot have one, yet the parents of this child throw them onto the street to the mercy of the wind and snow... what a sin.

After a few steps, the middle-aged man gradually slowed down, turned his head, looking back at the child who was lost in thought at the corner.

It was a very quiet-looking child, visibly controlled by hunger, but still, he didn't beg for anything.

For some reason, he walked back to the small child's front, pulled out a piece of black bread from his pocket, and tossed it in front of him.

The child grabbed the bread and looked up at him.

"Here's something to eat, you must be starving," he tried to smile more amicably.

So the child lowered his head and wolfed down the bread... stuffing it into his mouth.

Not bad, the little tyke swallowed it in one go.

"... That didn't choke you, you're really tough," he muttered to himself as he stretched out a hand and picked up the small child.

Very thin, but surprisingly alive, not looking like someone close to death.

Especially those black pupils, very beautiful.

"I already have a daughter, might as well complete the set with a son and a daughter, as the Thanan people say," the middle-aged man mumbled to himself, eventually lifting the small child into his arms.

"Do you have a name?" he asked, with the standard Avelian southern accent.

"Malin," he replied, his voice strange and heavy with an accent, not matching the Thanan appearance he portrayed.

Ha, whatever, as long as he's not a Spirit.

......

"Daddy!" The young girl heard the footsteps, her large beast ears twitched, confirming the identity of the steps' owner; she wriggled out from the cozy armchair and blanket, standing by the door, watching her father open the door.

"Maya, good afternoon," her father smiled as he handed her the paper bag.

"Good afternoon, Daddy. What is that? Can I eat it?" The fluffy little Cat Girl took the paper bag and curiously examined the little thing in her father's arms.

"It's not food, well..." Her father sized up his daughter and then glanced at the little thing in his hand, "He's your brother."

"What's a brother?" Curiosity was instinctive, inherent. Her tail swished back and forth, the silver-gray with circular Spotty large tail, the ears of the same color and pattern trembled too, and the owner of the silver-gray long hair seemed like the embodiment of curiosity itself.

Questioning and seeking.

"Someone to protect you," the middle-aged man put down the little creature, "His name is Malin."

"Malin!" The young girl cheered happily.

Completely oblivious to the panic and confusion in the eyes of the human infant before her.

......

Malin had always thought the concept of a middle-aged corporate slave dying from overwork and being reborn in a different world to walk the path of a winner in life... was nothing but an extravagant imagination completed by authors of web novels.

Where in the world would such good fortune exist, and even if it did, it wouldn't befall a corporate slave.

The middle-aged corporate slave being reborn into a different world as a programmer, not yet middle-aged but already balding and greasy... that was an unexpectedly logical and dramatic development.

Not until such good fortune befell him did he realize that there seemed to be no path ahead of him.

Cold world, dilapidated buildings, streets that reeked so badly they could kill a person, and the most frightening thing was on the way back, a man holding him stepped on an overly large rat and killed it with his foot.

... It was the kind of rat that was about the same size as a Chinese farm dog, with front teeth bigger than Malin's thumb now.

Truly deadly.

As bizarre as it was, at least he now had a home, a bathtub to wash in hot water, even though he could only wear adult shirts and wrap himself in blankets, it was at least better than being homeless, and most importantly, the Leopard Girl had cooked him a big bowl of noodles, which he had devoured entirely.

Between preserving dignity or his life, the ravenous Malin had no choice.

And between eating iron-hard black bread and steaming hot noodles, there was really no choice to be made either.

"Malin!" The little girl with the leopard ears and tail approached Malin.

"Hmm, my name is Malin." Out of respect for the natives, fear of the unknown, and curiosity about this fluffy girl, Malin nodded with a smile, "What's your name?" then he added a question.

"Maya! Daddy said you're my brother. Will you protect Maya?!" As she spoke, the little Leopard Girl grabbed her tail and... bit it in her mouth.

Wait a second! That's not sanitary!

And! Doesn't that hurt to bite?!

With such doubts, Malin nodded.

Because he noticed the doubt and fear in her eyes, just like the child he had picked up when facing the oncoming truck.

Malin thought that if possible, one should respect spirits and keep distance.

If keeping distance wasn't possible... then he would just have to accept it.

So he nodded again with determination, "Yes, I will protect you."

Suddenly, fear was replaced by joy, and the little Leopard Girl screamed and pounced on him.

Like she had found the best toy, like she had seen the best climbing frame, or like she had discovered the best cardboard box.

Malin reached out and touched her ears, they were warm, they were real.

Malin reached out and touched her tail, it was warm and a bit damp, also real.

Malin reached out and touched his own ears... they were a bit square.

A bit square... wait a second, does this mean I'm... no longer human?