MM Racing Chapter 1 My home is on the outskirts of Nottingham
Chapter 1 My home is on the outskirts of Nottingham
Yan Zu refused to travel through time.
Especially the story of a three-year-old village child who transmigrates into the world of Douluo Continent.
The original owner's cause of death was even more outrageous—chasing butterflies, hitting a stone mill, and dying on the spot.
In his previous life, he was a miserable office worker who died suddenly amidst piles of documents.
He bit down hard on the corner of the blanket to keep himself from cursing out, and it took him half an hour to accept reality.
Then I began to sort through the memories of the original owner of this body—the memories of a three-year-old child, brief and innocent.
Five Souls Village, belonging to the Fasno Province of the Heaven Dou Empire, is about sixty miles from Notting City. It has more than one hundred households, adjacent to the Soul Hunting Forest, living off the land.
The village's name sounds intimidating, but it's actually a legend that fifty years ago, this small village with only about a hundred households had five children with supernatural powers awaken within a year, causing a sensation. Therefore, the village was renamed in the hope of continuing its good fortune.
If the village weren't small and its population small, with limited influence, the Spirit Hall would probably have already pursued the matter of defamation.
Father Yan Hu, thirty-six years old, a level twenty-six Battle Soul Master, with the Martial Soul Iron Axe. He is the village's recognized number one fighter—although the prestige of this "number one" is roughly equivalent to "choosing the best among the worst."
My mother, Su Qing, is thirty-three years old, a level twenty-two auxiliary-type Soul Master, and her Martial Soul is Qinghe. She excels at making crops grow better, wounds heal faster, and her combat power... well, last year when a wild boar got into our house, her hand holding the hoe trembled like a leaf.
As for himself? Yan Zu, three years and seven days old, before he died, had three greatest achievements in life: First, he could urinate independently without wetting his pants; second, he could accurately distinguish which of the five village dogs was the fiercest; third, his name was powerful, and just based on this name, he would at least be handsome and dashing, if not exceptionally handsome and imposing.
"What a hellish start..." Yan Zu sighed silently as he looked at his short, chubby fingers.
He then spent another half hour, with the rigorous attitude of a graduate student reviewing literature, repeatedly confirming the following facts:
1. No system notification sound echoes in my mind.
Second, there was no old man coughing inside the ring.
Third, the painful bruises on his forehead reminded him how fragile his body was.
"So, standard time travel, hellish difficulty, no beginner's gift pack," Yan Zu concluded, his last glimmer of hope completely extinguished.
He knew the plot of Douluo Continent—after all, he had thoroughly studied that set of books in his previous life. He knew Tang San would become a god, that the Spirit Hall would be destroyed, and that countless opportunities were hidden in the Star Dou Great Forest, the City of Slaughter, and Seagod Island…
But what does that have to do with him?
A three-year-old child, parents with soul power levels in the twenties, and a small border village. In the Douluo Continent, this setup is roughly equivalent to a background NPC in a game who doesn't even survive the opening animation, the kind that gets trampled to death by a soul beast and doesn't even have a name.
"Trying to rely on his father?" Yan Zu's mind flashed back to Yan Hu's memories: Last year, his father led a team into the mountains with great fanfare, saying he would hunt down a 400-year-old soul beast to broaden everyone's horizons. Three days later, the group was chased back in a panic by a 160-year-old ironback bear, with Yan Hu running in the lead, even losing one of his shoes in the process.
"Want to rely on your mother?" Memory shifts: Su Qing uses her soul skill on a few wilted cabbages by the field. The green vines sway, and the cabbages... their leaves turn slightly greener. Aunt Wang next door praises her: "With Qing's skill, our village's cabbages will never have to worry about selling again!" — The strongest support from emotions is increased production and income.
"Want to rely on yourself?" Yan Zu moved his short legs. As a three-year-old toddler, living well and not causing trouble for his parents was the greatest contribution he could make to the family.
Despair? A little.
Do you want to cry? Not really.
Having grown up in an orphanage in his previous life, Yan Zu relied on scholarships and social welfare to get into graduate school. His greatest talent was finding a way to survive in a bad situation. Now, his hand is completely rotten, but at least... he's still alive.
"As long as you're alive, you have a chance," he told himself, his voice childish but his tone terrifyingly mature.
But... that's not right.
Yan Zu frowned. He suddenly remembered a detail from the original work—Soul Masters received a monthly subsidy after registering with the Spirit Hall.
A Grand Soul Master earns ten Gold Soul Coins per month, and Yan Hu and Su Qing together earn twenty Gold Soul Coins per month. This is no small amount in Douluo Continent. A family of three can live quite comfortably with one or two Gold Soul Coins per month.
Why is his family so poor?
Where did the problem lie? Yan Zu searched through the original owner's fragmented memories but found nothing—a three-year-old child has no concept of money.
Just as he was considering whether to try hitting the stone again to see if he could trigger some hidden mechanism, there was a commotion outside the courtyard gate.
Yan Zu sat on the threshold, watching the creaking wooden door being pushed open.
The first thing you see when you enter is a "mountain".
To be precise, he was a man as large as a mountain. Yan Hu was nearly two meters tall, with broad shoulders and a thick back, and wore a coarse cloth garment that was torn in many places and stained with dark red blood. On his back, he carried half a bloody corpse of a soul beast, which looked like a wild boar, but was more than twice the size of an ordinary wild boar. One of its two tusks was broken, and the remaining one was cracked.
The man's steps were heavy, each one causing the ground to tremble slightly. He looked exhausted, with several new scratches on his square face and chapped lips, but his fierce eyes lit up instantly when he saw the small figure on the threshold.
"Ah Zu! Why are you sitting here? It's windy, come inside!" Yan Hu's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against wood, but it was filled with undeniable concern.
Following him in was Su Qing.
She was petite and thin, and the hem of her blue cloth dress was torn, stained with mud and a suspicious green sap—presumably the blood of some kind of spirit beast or the sap of a plant.
Upon seeing the conspicuous bruise on Yan Zu's forehead, all his weariness turned into panic.
Su Qing practically lunged forward, cupping Yan Zu's small face in her hands, her eyes visibly reddening. "Does it still hurt? It's all my fault, I shouldn't have left you alone at home..."
Yan Zu could smell the mixture of sweat, herbs, and a faint scent of blood emanating from her, and he could feel the slight trembling and warmth of her hands. In his more than twenty years in his previous life, no one had ever been so concerned for him.
The caregivers at the welfare home are very busy; ensuring they are well-fed and clothed is already a challenge. School teachers care more about grades than whether their children have bumped or bruised themselves. Classmates... everyone has their own life.
In a frozen corner of his heart, a place he himself thought didn't exist, a crack suddenly appeared.
"Mom, I'm fine." He heard himself say in a childish voice, forcing a smile that he thought was "innocent" enough. "It doesn't hurt anymore."
This statement was clearly not very convincing. Su Qing's eyes were already brimming with tears.
"You brat, you scared your mother to death!" Yan Hu had already removed the half of the soul beast and threw it heavily in the corner of the yard, kicking up a cloud of dust.
He strode over, his large, fan-like hand seemingly about to pat Yan Zu on the head, but he stopped abruptly at the last moment and instead gently ruffled Yan Zu's soft hair.
Then, as if remembering something, Yan Hu grinned, revealing a smug smile. He reached into his robes and rummaged around for a moment, pulling out a small package carefully wrapped in oiled paper.
Yan Hu carefully rubbed the oiled paper wrapped around his clothes before presenting it to Yan Zu like a treasure: "Look! What good things did your father bring you back!"
Open the oil paper.
There are three fruits inside.
Bright red, about the size of a child's fist, with a translucent skin, they looked like three hearts condensed from the sunset in the dim twilight, exuding an alluring sweet fragrance.
"Fire Cloud Fruit!" Yan Hu lowered his voice, but couldn't hide his excitement. "Dad climbed three Fire Cloud Trees, each over ten feet tall, and spent ages dealing with two ten-year-old Crimson Flame Birds before finally picking it! I heard it's good for children, quick, try some!"
Yan Zu looked at the three fruits.
He looked up at Yan Hu again.
The man's face was etched with the lines of hardship and weariness, his new wounds still oozing blood, his clothes tattered, and he reeked of sweat and blood. But the look in his eyes as he gazed at the few fruits was astonishingly bright—a pure, unreserved sincerity of wanting to give the best to his child.
Then look at Su Qing. She was still gently stroking the bruise on his forehead when a tear finally fell, sliding down her delicate yet weary face.
Her hands also had small cuts and calluses, her skirt was stained with mud, and the herbs in the basket were gathered from the edge of the forest at great risk, to supplement the family income and to help him recover.
They are weak.
In a world where Soul Emperors, Soul Saints, and Title Douluos are commonplace, they are as weak as ants.
They are very poor.
The patched clothes worn by the parents are proof of this.
They may not be able to give him overwhelming power, endless wealth, or strong protection.
But they gave him everything they could—the prey he brought back from danger, the fruit he risked his life to pick, all his worries and love.
Yan Zu stretched out his small hand and picked up a Fire Cloud Fruit. The fruit was slightly cool and heavy.
He put it in his mouth and took a bite.
"Click."
A crisp sound. The sweet, refreshing juice exploded in my mouth and slid down my throat. Immediately afterwards, a distinct warm current rose from my stomach and quickly spread to my limbs and bones.
"Is it good?" Yan Hu squatted down, staring at him with his tiger-like eyes, full of anticipation.
Yan Zu nodded vigorously, swallowed the fruit, and said in the clearest and most certain tone, "Delicious! Thank you, Father!"
Yan Hu slapped his thigh and burst into laughter, his voice booming so loudly it seemed to shake the eaves, causing dust to fall: "Hahaha! As long as it tastes good! When Dad gets a bit stronger, and his soul power levels up a few more times, I'll hunt down a real hundred-year-old soul beast for you! Then, Dad will want the soul ring, and the soul bone... you can use the soul bone to grind your teeth!"
"Don't talk nonsense again!" Su Qing's sadness was somewhat dispelled by these nonsensical words, and she playfully patted Yan Hu's sturdy back.
Yan Zu ate the fruit in small bites, feeling the warmth continuously nourishing his body, and also feeling the simple yet heartwarming interaction between the couple in front of him.
The courtyard quieted down, with only the sounds of Yan Hu cleaning up the soul beast corpses and washing them with water, and Su Qing picking up herbs and gently asking him about the day's events.
As night fell completely, the simple oil lamp was lit, and its dim yellow light shone through the window paper, casting a warm orange glow over the poor little courtyard.
Late at night.
Yan Zu lay on his own small bed, wide awake. He began to calmly analyze his situation.
The Spirit Hall exists and wields immense power. Every year, a deacon comes to the village to awaken the spirits of eligible children, dating back at least to the timeline of Douluo Continent I. His parents are kind people, providing the greatest emotional support, but their actual strength is negligible. As for himself, at three years old, he is physically weak, his spirit unawakened, and his only unique characteristic is a soul and memories from another world.
But that's not enough, far from enough.
"We must acquire the power to protect ourselves as soon as possible." A sharp light, beyond his years, flashed in his dark eyes. "We cannot place all our hopes on awakening our martial spirit at the age of six."
Countless tropes from online novels he'd read in his past life flashed through his mind. Blood oath? He smeared his blood on the bed frame and the walls—no reaction.
Reciting mantras silently? I tried everything I could remember, including "Prajnaparamita," "Heaven and Earth Without Limits, Borrowing the Law of Heaven and Earth," and even some in English—all I heard was mice running on the beam.
Visualization practice? You end up making yourself dizzy and getting nothing out of it.
After struggling for almost half an hour, Yan Zu was panting heavily, having gained nothing.
"As expected, novels are all lies." He slumped on the bed, a deep sense of powerlessness washing over him.
Was he really supposed to live like a typical three-year-old, eating and sleeping, waiting to be resigned to fate when he turned six? No, he wasn't willing to accept that. In his past life, he had struggled his way up from the bottom of society, relying on an indomitable spirit.
Just before his consciousness was about to sink into darkness, a nearly self-mocking thought flashed through his mind: "If only there were a system or something...it would save so much trouble..."
These are just random thoughts that come to mind when I'm about to fall asleep.
however--
[Host's soul fusion detected; self-awareness clear; will to survive meets requirements. Conditions met. Check-in system officially activated...]
There was no dazzling light, no deafening sound. Just as Yan Zu was drifting off to sleep, a few lines of simple, almost austere, translucent blue text suddenly and clearly appeared inside his eyelids:
[Host: Yan Zu]
Age: 3 years and 7 days
[Dimension: Douluo Continent]
Today's check-in count: 1/1 (unused)
Consecutive days of check-in: 0
[Martial Soul: Not Awakened.]
[System binding successful. You can check in once a day, with no restrictions on time or location.]
Yan Zu's sleepiness vanished instantly!
He suddenly opened his eyes, sat up in bed, and his heart was pounding in his chest!
It's not a hallucination!
system!
There's a system here!
Although the name "check-in system" sounds a bit cheap and the simple interface gives off a "take it or leave it" vibe, it is undoubtedly a lighthouse in the darkness and a rope in a desperate situation!
Yan Zu pinched his thigh hard. Ouch! It wasn't a dream!
Then, with all his might, he suppressed the ecstatic scream that was about to burst from his throat, transforming it into an unwavering thought in his mind:
"Check-in!"