A rare magical miracle in the world

What is this thing, Bailuo didn't know.

The only thing he could be sure of was that this book had appeared when his leg got broken by a wild boar, and he then awoke from unconsciousness.

Bailuo didn't know the origin of this black leather book, nor did he understand its purpose.

Yet, as a transmigrator, after 20 years, Bailuo subconsciously felt, 'Could this be the golden finger I have been waiting for?'

If being injured by a boar was the way to awaken the golden finger.

Bailuo regretted, 'Why didn't I get gored by a boar sooner?'

"Bro?"

Inya was puzzled, "What resources?"

"Nothing."

Bailuo truly didn't know; he couldn't grasp what exactly this black leather book was.

Perhaps his knowledgeable uncle knew, but Bailuo had the subconscious feeling that he couldn't tell anyone about the existence of this book.

Just like the matter of soul transmigration, it was Bailuo's biggest secret, something he had never directly revealed even to his family.

For those strange occurrences, Bailuo often brushed them off by saying he 'dreamt' about them.

However, he was no longer the Bailuo of his previous life.

In this life, he was Bailuo Yatun, Inya's big brother, and the chief of Yatun Village, their new leader.

"Let's go home."

Bailuo didn't linger outside; he was just taking a walk today, not yet fully recovered.

"Big brother, let me help you."

"Stop messing around, it's just a minor injury, hiss~~~~"

Just as he tried to talk tough, that extremely sour and intense pain made Bailuo swallow his words, "Help me, help me, hiss, tonight keep that brute's pig trotter for me, the Yatun family must cleanse our shame with the enemy's pig trotter!"

"Okay, bro, hehe."

Trying to suppress her laughter, Inya gently supported Bailuo back to their cottage.

"Creak."

Soon after, a tall figure walked in.

"Uncle."

His hair was completely white, and his beard silver. His face was resolute and, despite the signs of age, inspired trust and dependability.

"Could Xiao Luo go outside today?"

"To be bedridden for a week from just a minor injury," Bailuo said with a smile, "it's embarrassing."

"Did you save the pig trotter?"

The uncle smiled and changed the subject, "The shame of the Yatun family must be washed away with the enemy's pig trotter!"

"It's being stewed; we'll have pig trotters to eat soon~~"

In the corner, a girl with an apron was busily stirring the pig trotters in the pot with a huge wooden spoon.

Truth be told, the People of Yatun weren't great cooks, and they didn't have much in terms of spices.

Boar meat that couldn't have the gamey taste removed wasn't very delicious.

But Bailuo wasn't picky. For the People of Yatun, having a meal to eat was good enough; there was no room to be choosy.

At lunch, at the dining table.

"Sss huff sss huff~~"

Inya was fiercely gnawing on the pig trotter, while the uncle and Bailuo also ate, but only a little.

"Eat slowly, no one's competing with you."

Bailuo said affectionately. He was eating air-dried venison, which tasted average but had a decent chew.

The uncle sat opposite him, turned sideways, silently smoking.

Bailuo knew the current situation of the village.

There were 80 people in the village, most of whom were women and children.

The Yatun Clan didn't use to live here; they had a much larger settlement elsewhere.

It was just that the local lord had persecuted the People of Yatun, forcing the entire clan's adults to resist with their lives through wars and campaigns time and again.

In the end, only a very few survived by escaping into the mountains under the uncle's leadership.

In a village of 80 people, half were children under the age of 13.

The uncle used to be the village chief, as well as the former leader of the Yatun Clan. He had to take responsibility for the villagers of Yatun Village.

After all, practically speaking, almost everyone in the village was related by blood.

The most complicated relations could trace three, four, or five generations back to find a common great-grandfather or great-great-grandfather.

Therefore, the relationships among the People of Yatun were extremely close, like one big family. They had weathered many storms together over the years.

"How are things going?"

Now, Bailuo was the new leader. He had taken up the mantle from Saros, so these matters should normally be his responsibility, had he not been injured.

"The same as before, no changes. We play along when we can, and we drag things out as much as possible," said the uncle, not disclosing much, perhaps not wishing to worry Bailuo.

Right now, his recovery was the priority.

"Something on your mind?"

The uncle noticed Bailuo had something troubling him; he had seemed hesitant to speak for the past half month.

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Considering that the young people had their own secrets, the old uncle didn't ask further.

But this time, Bailuo clearly had a question written all over his face, so the old uncle had no choice but to ask.

"There's something..."

Bailuo said, "Just a bit of doubt."

"Is it about the soldiers today? Or the merchants from a couple of days ago?"

"After all these years, we should be used to it by now. If someone really starved to death in the village, I'd make sure they'd be buried with them."

Bailuo spoke lightly, but the resolve in his words made Inya, who was gnawing on a pig's trotter, eyes light up.

They were the People of Yatun, a synonym for evil and ferocity in the eyes of outsiders.

"Count me in! Count me in! I'll blow their heads off!"

"Just eat your pig's trotter, children should not interrupt when adults are talking."

Annoyed, Bailuo slapped Inya's little head and then turned to the old uncle, "Just saying, Uncle, don't be mad."

"Why should I be mad?"

"If you really think it's okay," the old uncle said, taking a puff of smoke and speaking gravely, "then go ahead and do it, you're the leader now."

Bailuo was no weakling, incapable of trussing a chicken.

When the old uncle used to wander outside, fighting numerous battles, he was not only capable himself, but also taught Bailuo and the members of his tribe various skills, turning them into exceptionally outstanding warriors.

Unfortunately, due to health reasons, the old uncle had been in decline for many years.

In terms of combat, the old uncle had taught Bailuo everything he could—there was nothing left to teach.

"I'm getting old, and the legacy of our Yatun Clan, the future of this village, now depends on you."

The old uncle said casually, whatever Bailuo did, whether good or bad, it was all Bailuo's choice.

"At worst, we just face extinction."

"If we're really forced to a point where we can't survive," the old uncle said calmly, "remember, be sure to save a head for me!"

Despite its simplicity, the statement was charged with immense hatred and dissatisfaction.

"Uncle..."

The old uncle supported Bailuo, no matter what decision he made, even if it meant leading them to their deaths, the old man would follow without hesitation.

Lifesaving gratitude, upbringing gratitude.

If there was one person in this world for whom Bailuo felt the deepest gratitude, it was definitely the old man before him.

"Mmm mmm mmm!"

Inya quickly swallowed the wild boar meat, "For me! Leave one for me too!"

"......."

The previously harmonious atmosphere was disrupted by Inya's sudden outburst.

Bailuo calmly looked at Inya.

"Well..."

The girl backed down immediately, burying her face in the pig's trotter, "I'm eating, just eating."

"Go on, what's on your mind?"

The old uncle said, "When I was young, I had my share of experiences outside, I'm not all-knowing, but I do have a bit of knowledge about ordinary matters, Xiao Luo what do you want to ask?"

The old uncle couldn't truly be considered knowledgeable, and having lived with the old man for nearly twenty years, Bailuo knew full well the old man's bluster.

"Is there magic in this world?"

"Cough!"

"Cough cough cough..."

The sudden question made the old uncle choke; he looked at Bailuo puzzled, "Magic, what's that? I haven't heard the word before. Why do you ask?"

The word magic was coined by Bailuo himself.

The language of this world was different from his previous life; it was neither Chinese nor English, but a previously unknown language.

So, it's true that the old uncle had never heard the word 'magic.'

But he understood its implied meaning, it must refer to some kind of miraculous power.

"You've never heard of it either, Uncle?"

In the dimly lit room, the old and the young sat facing each other across an old, gray-black stone table.

Bailuo always regarded the old uncle as a pioneer of this world; all his knowledge and understanding of the world came from this old man.

But even Saros had never seen magic, so either this world truly lacked magic, or magic was extremely rare.

'But if it's not magic...' Bailuo looked contemplatively at the Black Leather Book in his mind, 'then what is it?'

"Why do you ask?"

The old uncle's brow furrowed as he asked, "Have you encountered something?"

When asking this, the old uncle's voice contained a hint of anticipation.

However, Bailuo could sense the old uncle's fear; he feared being wrong and thus disappointed.

"No."

Bailuo shifted his attention away from the notebook in his mind, "It might have been a hallucination."

The old uncle noticed, but didn't inquire further; if Bailuo wanted to keep a secret, he would help him protect it, "I don't know what this magic you speak of is, but if it's a power beyond ordinary people..."

The old man exhaled clouds of smoke and said with a deep voice, "There is!"

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