Chapter 1: A Miner Once Again
Xing Yan rubbed the growing lump on his forehead, cursing the flying pickaxe that reintroduced him to gravity.
"This is it," he muttered. "Reincarnated by a furnace only to get K.O'd by a damn tool."
The bulky man above him—arms like tree trunks, face like a boulder carved by an angry sculptor—didn't look impressed. He huffed like a bull ready to charge.
"You done lying there like a stunned Iron-Headed Rat?" the man barked.
"Five more minutes." Xing Yan croaked.
Another vein popped. This guy looked one insult away from throwing Xing Yan back into whatever furnace rebirthed him.
"Name's Foreman Tie. You're part of Section 9 now. That means dig, haul, and shut up. Ask questions and I'll stuff this pickaxe where light don't shine."
"Good to meet you too," Xing Yan muttered, dragging himself up.
His body ached. Not the sore muscles of a twelve-hour shift, no—this was the type of ache that screamed 'new body, who dis?' Every joint popped like it was wrapped in bubble wrap. He glanced down at his arms—thinner than his past life's—but lean. Strong, even. He estimated that he must be 12 to 15 years old.
His uniform was made from some coarse, rough-spun cloth. On the left chest was stitched a barely legible name: "Xing Yan."
So it wasn't a joke. That bull-man was calling him by name.
"I'm really someone else now... and still a miner. Of all the damn jobs in the multiverse."
A part of him had hoped for "sword saint" or "cultivation prodigy." Hell, even "demon tamer" sounded better than "manual laborer in a hole."
"Pickaxe's yours," Foreman Tie grunted, pointing to the weapon of forehead destruction. "You've got one hour. Fill that ore cart or fill your grave. Your choice."
With that cheerful declaration, the foreman stomped away.
Xing Yan picked up the pickaxe with a sigh. It was heavy but balanced, its edge slightly curved and worn—clearly well-used. He gave it a test swing and nearly knocked himself off balance.
"Right… strength's not maxed out yet. Got it."
All around him, miners dug in eerie synchronization. Young men and women, some barely older than teenagers, chipped away at the cave walls with practiced rhythm. Sparks danced in the air. Occasionally, someone would shout, "Strike!" and a foreman would examine their haul before either nodding or cursing them out.
The walls weren't ordinary stone. Pulsing veins of glowing ore shimmered like bioluminescent veins—blue, red, and gold streaks ran through the rock like rivers of fire and starlight.
'What in the Minecraft hell is this place?'
Xing Yan glanced around and noticed a small sign hanging above their tunnel.
Trial Shaft 27 – Rookie Evaluation Zone
Ore Type: Softsteel (Grade: Mortal-Grade Low Tier)
Mining Depth: 92.3 meters
"Trial shaft?" he whispered.
This was indeed a test.
But a test for what?
"Well, if there's one thing I know how to do... it's mining."
Xing Yan grinned bitterly. "Let's see what furnace-god genetics got me."
He approached the wall and took a swing.
CLANG!
Pain shot up his arm like a bolt of lightning.
"…Ow."
The wall didn't even dent.
"The sign must be wrong, this thing is not soft unlike it's name!"
A few miners nearby snickered.
"Fresh meat," one of them whispered.
"Look at his stance. My grandma swings better than him."
'Is your grandma a gorilla?' Xing Yan reacted to one of the comments in his mind. He didn't said it out loud, afraid if another pickaxe will going flying in his direction.
Xing Yan sucked in a breath. Okay, okay. Calm down. This isn't Earth. This isn't a union job. If I don't perform, I'm done.
He adjusted his grip and studied the ore. The Softsteel vein gave off a low warmth, and its glow pulsed slightly, like it was… alive?
"Alright. Just like my old man taught me." He narrowed his eyes and aimed for a weak point—the natural crack of the ore.
This time, he drove the pickaxe with a clean arc.
CRACK!
A fist-sized chunk of ore dislodged and dropped with a satisfying clink.
"...Heh."
That felt good.
For the next hour, Xing Yan settled into a rhythm. Swing. Crack. Collect. Haul to cart. Swing again. Sweat poured down his back, his muscles screamed—but something inside him stirred. Not just effort, but… instinct.
The ore responded to his strikes, like he could feel the fault lines behind the rock. He had a talent for identifying the weakness of the ores, maybe this is the result of working nonstop for 15 years.
By the time Foreman Tie returned, Xing Yan had nearly filled his cart.
The foreman raised a bushy eyebrow. "Huh. You might not be completely worthless."
Xing Yan grinned, leaning on his pickaxe like a shovel-wielding hero. "Did I pass? Praise me more."
Tie grunted. "For now. But don't get cocky, that was Softsteel. The softest of all the ores. Tomorrow's Cold Quartz. If your swing's even slightly off, you'll shatter your own bones."
Xing Yan grin faltered.
Foreman Tie walked off again, leaving the young miner to his exhaustion.
---
Later that night, Xing Yan sat around a flickering fire inside a cave dormitory, surrounded by snoring miners and creaking bunk beds.
He held a small piece of Softsteel in his hand. The glow had dimmed, but it could still create a small glow.
He brought the ore closer. Near his chest to examine it clearly.
And then—
Ding.
A chime sounded beside his ear, his palm glowed faintly. No, not his palm, but the space above it.
Words shimmered in the air.
>[Primordial Forge]
(Access Granted)
Function Available: SoulForge Level 1, Soul Essence Absorption
SoulForge Capacity: 3 slots | Heat Level: Low
[Insert material to begin refining.]
His jaw dropped. "Wait... I can smelt inside my mind?!"
No, more like inside a personal dimension?
He concentrated, and the Softsteel chunk hovered into the air and vanished with a soft glow.
Inside his vision, a small black void appeared. Three circular slots. One now flickered with reddish-gold light.
A timer ticked down: 3 Minutes – Smelting
Xing Yan sat motionless.
"…Holy sh*t."
He wasn't just reincarnated as a miner. He was a miner with a cheat code.
---
Three minutes later, a soft chime echoed in his ears.
> Refinement Complete: Softsteel Ingot (Stabilized)
Purity: 6% | Soul Essence: 21
Effect: None.
- Found in almost every shaft. The most abundant and basic ore. This is basically a harder version of rocks.
He stared at the hovering ingot.
It floated gently in the void, almost singing. As it materialized in his hand, it pulsed like a heartbeat.
This wasn't normal forging. This was alchemical. Spiritual.
"This..." he whispered, awe creeping in. "This is the real deal."
Suddenly, he heard a snore to his left. One of the miners shifted in bed.
Xing Yan quickly shoved the ingot under his pillow.
Can't let them know yet. Not until I understand how this works.
He lay back down, heart pounding.
He had died. Been burned alive. Reborn in a world of glowing rocks and screaming foremen.
But now… he had a power no one else had. A forge embedded in his soul.
He grinned in the dark, unable to stop the crooked smile from spreading across his face.
"Looks like I'm a miner again… but this time, not just any miner."