My mom is waiting for treatment, and you're summoning me to be a hero?

Time flies by.

Late the next night, heavy footsteps echoed through the prison passageway.

Lin Mo slowly opened his eyes.

Two jailers stood outside the cage, one of them holding an oil lamp and waving it around. The dim light cast long, slanted shadows on Lin Mo's face through the iron bars.

"Wow, you've been starving for two days and you still have so much energy?"

The jailer grinned, took two dry, hard steamed buns from his companion, and tossed them through the gaps in the iron bars. The buns rolled twice on the ground, getting covered in dust.

"Here, this is your last meal. After you finish eating, it's time to go."

Lin Mo glanced down at the steamed buns on the ground, unmoved.

The two jailers didn't care and turned around to the next cell, repeating the same action.

Then the sound of the heart being severed exploded, carrying the irrationality unique to a dying person.

"Do you have any rules in this place of debauchery?! A death banquet must have wine! It must have wine!"

The jailer was stunned by his shout. After regaining his senses, he threw the steamed bun on the ground, said "Eat it or leave it" and walked away cursing.

The sound of Zhanxin gradually faded, eventually turning into a muffled sigh.

The passageway returned to silence.

Lin Mo stood up and moved his wrists and ankles, his joints making a crisp cracking sound.

He turned his head to look at Mianmian, who was perched on his shoulder, and the little girl immediately understood.

It tapped the spatial ring hanging around its neck with one of its front paws.

A faint light flashed, and the ground was filled with things.

The bread was toasted until golden brown, the steak was cut into thick slices, the whole roast chicken was cooked, there were some pieces of cheese, a bunch of grapes, and even an unopened bottle of wine.

Hungry?

nonexistent.

Mianmian's ring was mostly filled with food.

This little girl never stopped plundering back in the human empire, sweeping from the imperial chefs' stoves all the way to the street vendors' stalls, and even taking the desserts that were taken away from the palace banquets.

Lin Mo grabbed a loaf of bread, tore it in half, and ate it with his steak.

He needs to be in top condition before the execution; physical strength, mental strength, and reaction speed are all essential.

Yin Xue didn't know when he would arrive, but he had to be at full strength when the opportunity presented itself.

Mianmian transformed back into her white-haired girl form, sitting cross-legged on the ground, holding a chicken leg in each hand, taking a bite from the left and then the right, her cheeks puffing out like two little balls.

Just then, Zhanxin's voice came from next door, his tone carrying a hint of dazedness induced by the aroma.

"Bro, I think I'm hallucinating. I can smell steak~ Mmm, this smells so good, it's black pepper... Oh no, I'm dying and my mind is starting to deceive myself."

Lin Mo still ignored him.

Zhanxin didn't seem to care about the response and continued speaking, his voice a little softer than when he was telling stories before.

"Would you like to hear my story?"

In the dim light, Lin Mo glanced at the stone wall separating the two cells, then continued drinking.

Zhanxin continued talking to himself, listlessly, as if he were talking to the ceiling.

"Actually, I'm a hero too."

These words made Lin Mo hesitate for a moment as he picked up his wine glass.

"It was probably 250 years ago. At that time, I was running a caravan in the capital... not the capital of this world, but my hometown. I still remember that day a group of foreigners came to the palace, bringing a bunch of iron things, some that could tell time, some that could weave cloth, and some that could blow steam, saying they were some kind of steam contraptions."

Lin Mo silently did the math in his mind.

Two hundred and fifty years ago, during the Qing Dynasty.

The Industrial Revolution had begun, and foreigners brought steam engines into the Forbidden City.

Zhanxin seemed to have taken a bite of a steamed bun, his voice muffled.

"Those things are indeed amazing, but the emperor said they are useless and just a bunch of strange tricks."

Lin Mo couldn't help but snort coldly and finished the last sip of wine in his glass.

"But some people said those things were very valuable, and there was a huge argument about it. I was just a Han Chinese bodyguard, I didn't know anything about these things, I only knew how to run escorts, and not long after, I was summoned here."

Zhanxin paused for a moment, as if recalling the blue light array beneath his feet that day.

"At that time, I..."

He began to tell his story in this world from the beginning.

Summoned to the border church of the Holy Tower Kingdom, I was given a Holy Sword of Light and followed the Holy Knights to hunt monsters in the wasteland.

His swordsmanship talent quickly became apparent, and he rose from an ordinary paladin to a paladin commander, making him a notable figure in the papacy at that time.

Later, he led a team to hunt down a demigod-level monster, and the entire team was almost wiped out.

He survived alone in the monster's lair for seven days, and finally, on the verge of death, he comprehended a fragment of the Sword God's laws, using it to kill the monster. That's how the Sword God's legacy came about.

It wasn't given to him by someone; he pulled himself back from the brink of death.

"I got arrogant after receiving the Sword God's inheritance."

The sound of Zhan Xin carrying a hint of bitterness.

"I thought I was the leader of the Holy Knights and had obtained the laws of the Sword God, so there were few people in the world who could defeat me. Then I went to challenge the Demon King, but I lost miserably and lost the Holy Armor of Light. Later, the Pope said that I was courageous and introduced me directly to the God, which is how I came to be here."

When he said this, his voice suddenly became very soft.

"The Pope also wrote me a letter, saying that this was a gift from God."

Then the two-meter-tall, burly man fell silent.

Only the intermittent sound of chewing steamed buns came from the other side of the stone wall, mixed with a few suppressed sobs.

He spoke again after a long time, his voice hoarse and calm, as if he were telling someone else's story.

"Even after entering this place, I remained arrogant. After all, I was sent by the gods, and all the creatures here are afraid of me. I killed a lot of people, and then I unknowingly ended up here. At first, I wanted to escape, but I became numb as I won more and more. I fought from the first match to the 60,000th match, from a rookie to a veteran, from the holder of the Sword God's legacy to an old good-for-nothing in a cage teaching newcomers how to build popularity."

He sighed, his voice filled with weariness, not resentment.

"Do you know what's most ridiculous? I've only had this many stories from the past two hundred years, it's like I've lived in vain."

After saying that, he didn't speak again.

The passageway had been quiet for a long time, with only the soft rustling of rats gnawing on moldy straw in the corner.

Lin Mo swallowed the last piece of steak, picked up his wine glass and took a sip, but remained silent.

He couldn't tell Zhanxin what he was waiting for; walls have ears, and the soldiers of Huanyu might patrol the passageway at any moment.

Until the sound of jailers' footsteps came again at the end of the passageway.

Heavier and more numerous than before, the footsteps of at least six people mingled together, the scraping sound of chains dragging on the ground rising and falling.

The footsteps grew closer.

Mianmian suddenly shrank away from Lin Mo's shoulder and disappeared, quickly putting the remaining food back into her spatial ring.

The jailer stood outside the cell, unlocked the heavy padlock on the iron gate, and said in a rough, impatient voice, "Time's up. Go on your way."