章 1: Chapter 1: The Transmigrator, Hastur Campbell
Chapter 1: The Transmigrator, Hastur Campbell
With slightly curled fluffy blond hair, pale blue eyes, and delicately chiseled features on a somewhat youthful face, he was a slender and well-proportioned young man, a blend of handsomeness and greenness.
His complexion was pale and bloodless, his forehead beaded with cold sweat, and his body trembled slightly, as if he had just survived a great calamity.
Indeed, he had transmigrated.
Russell looked at the face in the mirror, so different from his own, and sighed deeply.
Just by waking up, he had become someone else, a poor soul who had just died in a mysterious incident.
After enduring a severe headache and mental storm, he finally gasped for air and fully assimilated the memories of this body.
Hastur Campbell, the name of the body's true owner.
He was a down-and-out noble living in the western district of Runebeckland, just turned eighteen, with yesterday marking his eighteenth birthday.
On the night of his eighteenth birthday, he returned to his room, closed the door, arranged various materials, and conducted a mystical ritual said to bring the dead back to life.
Not having even stepped into the extraordinary starting sequence 9, he naturally failed to complete the ritual, was backfired by it, and thus perished, only to be replaced by Russell.
Such a pitiful child.
He risked the resurrection ritual to bring back his mother, who had been dead for ten years.
The Campbell family ancestors once had a period of glory; his grandfather, Dorn Campbell, was a senator in the upper house and amassed a considerable fortune.
But when it came to his father, Voltaire Campbell, due to his gambling addiction and foolishness, he not only lost the senatorship but also sold off the titles one after another, leaving only a baronetcy for inheritance, and nearly squandered the manor's estate.
He was akin to a rich child in another world.
Faced with such a hopeless gambler father, his mother succumbed to depression when he was eight.
Fortunately, his father also drained his health with alcohol and women, and one night, he accidentally fell into a river and left this world, or else he certainly wouldn't have lived to this age.
He was raised by the loyal old butler, Robert Jones.
A month before his eighteenth birthday, the old butler, Robert Jones, passed away due to old age and overwork.
Already despairing of the future, he clung to the last bit of faint hope, spent all his remaining cash to buy mystical materials, and attempted the resurrection ritual.
If successful, he could reunite with his mother; if not, he could join them, rather than live alone in this world.
In the end, he failed.
"May the goddess bless you to find your mother and old butler in the world of death, so you are no longer alone."
Russell's face was solemn as he sighed, his fingers tracing a crimson moon on his chest.
Yes, the original owner was also a devout follower of the goddess of the night.
Russell gazed at the person in the mirror, bowed slightly, and whispered, "Although I cannot fulfill the wish to revive your mother, I will help you restore the glory of the Campbell family."
"From now on, I am Hastur Campbell."
"Hastur, that name doesn't sound very auspicious…"
Hastur frowned slightly. In a world where mysticism thrived and mysterious incidents occurred frequently, to take a name identical to the King in Yellow was either audacious or ignorant.
Based on his memory of Voltaire Campbell, choosing such a name would likely be due to the latter.
In this mysterious world, there probably wasn't an Old God known as the King in Yellow, right?
Hastur felt an inexplicable emptiness in his heart and looked around.
The mysterious world was full of dangers and pitfalls. If he were to have any connection with the King in Yellow, he wouldn't live long.
But now, he could only live on as Hastur Campbell, even if it meant facing an unavoidable fate.
Gurgle, gurgle…
Hastur looked down, embarrassed at the source of the noise—his stomach protesting, for he hadn't eaten a grain of rice since last night.
Sigh, compared to the potential appearance of the King in Yellow, the current hunger was more pressing.
Life is not easy, Hastur sighed.
Before leaving the room, Hastur tidied up the aftermath of the failed ritual, wrapping some discarded or useless materials in a few newspapers, then walked to the window, opened the shutters to let in some air.
In the distance, tall chimneys stood, continuously emitting black smoke. Near the chimneys, rows of terraced houses lined the streets, with stalls selling goods and passersby stopping to buy food and daily necessities.
Compared to the quiet and bourgeois west district, life there was obviously much livelier and bustling.
Whoo! Whoo!
The sound of a steam whistle echoed at the platform, as a monstrous steam train with more than twenty carriages shuttled between the platforms.
Beckland, the capital of Rune, known as the city of myriad, the land of hope, was also the most diverse metropolis.
Since Hastur assimilated the original owner's memories, he realized he had transmigrated into the world of "Lord of Mysteries," and the timeline was even a few months ahead of Zhou Mingrui.
After admiring Beckland's local customs for a while, the overwhelming hunger made Hastur decide not to delay any longer.
The scenery was beautiful, but the stomach was more important.
Since the original owner had already dismissed all the servants, the three-story house was now silent, with only the sound of his footsteps on the floor.
The third floor was previously occupied by Voltaire Campbell alone, with three bedrooms, two living rooms, two cloakrooms, a sunroom, a study, four washrooms, and a large balcony.
The second floor was where Hastur and the old butler lived, with two bedrooms for them and four for guests, a living room, a cloakroom, four washrooms, two studies, and a moderately-sized balcony.
The ground floor had a large living room, two kitchens, two dining rooms of different sizes, three washrooms, and four servant rooms for the staff to rest.
There was also a sizable garden, stables, storage rooms, and a basement.
This was the last property of the Campbell family.
Voltaire Campbell had also wanted to sell this house and buy a smaller one, but was dissuaded by the old butler.
He argued that this was the last dignity of the Campbell family, which couldn't be sold, and as a noble, there had to be a suitable place to interact with other nobles.
The old butler, also citing the preservation of the Campbell family's last dignity, helped Hastur keep a large manor in the suburbs for leisure and enjoyment, as well as a plantation for growing cotton and vineyards.
These three properties were the last fig leaf of the Campbell family, and the little inheritance the old butler had strived to save for Hastur.
A camel, even when skinny, is still larger than a horse! These three properties were all owned by the Campbell family, unlike a certain impoverished deity who had to rely on renting to maintain appearances.
But compared to real nobility, this was quite poor, almost on the verge of bankruptcy.
If Hastur didn't make an effort, the noble surname Campbell would no longer exist in Rune.
Hastur went downstairs, crossed the large living room, and entered the kitchen on the right.
First to catch his eye were the dazzling array of kitchen utensils and a variety of seasonings. As for vegetables, meats, fruits, there were none; the only edible thing was two pounds of oat bread on the table.
"Thank goodness it's not the hard-to-swallow black bread."
Hastur breathed a sigh of relief; eating such food would be too much for his stomach to handle.
He went to the stove, filled a kettle with water, turned on the gas, and prepared to boil the water, then add some honey to pair with the oat bread for breakfast.
Gurgle…
The hunger returned, and Hastur couldn't wait for the water to boil. He pulled up a chair, sat at the table, and tore off a small piece of oat bread to eat.
It had a strong wheat flavor, was soft to eat, but only moderately sweet.
Well, he was a firm sweet tooth, only eating sweet tofu pudding, never touching the salty kind, and liked to eat cream puffs, pastries, White Rabbit milk candy, and a series of sweeter snacks.
But as the saying goes, when you're hungry enough, everything tastes delicious.
Unknowingly, Hastur had eaten a third of a pound of oat bread, his mouth dry and choked.
Fortunately, the water had boiled.
He went to the seasoning area, found a jar of honey that was still mostly full, took a bowl, scooped a spoonful, and then brewed it with boiling water.
After letting it cool slightly, he blew on the edge of the bowl, took a small sip to ensure it wasn't too hot, and then drank it in large gulps, continuing to eat another third of a pound of oat bread with the honey water.
After eating his fill, Hastur leaned back in his chair, right hand gently patting his bulging belly, burping contentedly, left hand resting on the table, fingers tapping rhythmically.
It was time for him to ponder what to do next.
(End of Chapter)
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