Ding-
The moment I pushed open the door to the Miners' Guild, that familiar smell hit me like a wave.
Same old scene every day.
Drunken miners shouting their heads off, merchants counting their coin purses and smacking their lips.
I headed straight for the counter.
The sack slung over my shoulder felt heavy, but my steps were light.
Because I'd cleaned out that Viper bastard's wallet, too.
The prick had about 2,000 Lumina on him. Felt like I finally had some financial breathing room.
"Welcome... Huh?"
Luna looked up from her ledger.
Her expression had been neutral at first, but the second she saw my face—more precisely, my forehead—her brows furrowed tight.
"...You, what's with that again?"
"Oh, this?"
I wiped my forehead, and fresh blood smeared across the back of my hand.
A gash from when my helmet cracked earlier.
Earth's Blessing had stopped the bleeding quick, but the scab probably looked pretty nasty.
"It's nothing. Just tripped over a rock."
"Liar."
Luna said it flat-out.
She flipped open the counter gate, came around, and grabbed my arm.
"Come here."
Familiar routine.
She sat me down in a quiet corner chair and cracked open the first-aid kit.
"Ow! Easy there!"
"Hold still. It's pretty deep, seriously."
She pressed a cotton swab soaked in antiseptic against the wound.
It stung like hell, and I winced.
"What the heck do you do in the mines? Yesterday you shredded your palms, today you crack your skull open."
"Accidents happen on the job."
"What kind of accident? Rockfall?"
Luna's hands moved busily as she peppered me with questions.
Worried eyes.
Guess her affinity had gone up for real.
"Ran into some loudmouths."
"Loudmouths?"
"This morning, some pockmarked punk picked a fight, so I gave him a lesson. Then today, he shows up with his 'big brother.'"
Luna's hands froze.
"Pockmark... You mean Gal?"
"Dunno his name. Face full of craters. Had this Viper guy with him, too."
"...Viper?"
Luna's blue eyes went wide.
Her reaction said Viper was a big deal around here.
"You got mixed up with Viper's crew? That guy with the scar on his face?"
"Yeah. Guy with the knife scar on his arm. Came at me to kill me out of nowhere, so I beat his ass and came straight here. Head took a hit, though."
"...Ha."
Luna let out a disbelieving scoff.
She wasn't buying it.
"Cut the bragging. That guy's infamous for being ruthless. No upside to messing with him."
Made sense, in a way.
Local tough guy, and here's a second-day newbie claiming he thrashed him.
My stats had bumped up some, but I was still a skinny twig—hard to believe.
"It's true."
"Sure, sure. Guess you dodged like a pro. Forehead's the only casualty."
She wasn't even pretending to listen, just clucked her tongue with worry in her eyes.
"Anyway, be careful. Viper doesn't let go once he bites. Turning someone into a cripple for skipping tribute? Piece of cake for him."
"Nah, he wasn't trying to cripple me—he wanted me dead."
"Pardon?"
"Tried to smash my skull in with his fist. Dead serious kill vibe."
Luna tilted her head at my words.
"No way..."
"What? Can't you see my busted forehead?"
"No, Viper's a scumbag, but he doesn't kill. At most, he beats you down for cash or cripples you to scare you. He knows the guild's extermination squad moves on murders in the mines. Why risk it for one newbie?"
Huh.
Now that she mentioned it...
In the comic, Viper was a mid-boss who bullied the protagonist and shook him down, not a murderer.
Even in this hellhole setting, outright killing in the mines would cause problems.
'Did the setting change? Damn author's fault as always.'
These locals' rotten personalities? One hundred percent the original author's doing.
In a dangerous mine full of monsters, you'd think they'd band together.
Instead, backstabbing, extortion, attempted murder?
Doesn't add up economically or survival-wise.
Just forced cancer characters to prop up the protagonist.
"Lucky you dodged and ran."
Luna applied more antiseptic.
As she leaned in close, a glimpse of white skin peeked from her shirt collar.
Supposed to focus, but my eyes kept drifting down.
'Whew.'
Her scent wafted over—sweet like flowers, or maybe soap. Something intoxicating.
Then Luna sniffed toward me.
"...?"
"What's that smell?"
Her face came right up to mine.
Breath-touching distance.
"Y-Yeah?"
"You smell nice. What is it? Lavender? No, fresher."
Oh.
The body wash I'd used before coming here.
The fancy stuff Yi Ah-rin brought from the real world.
A refined artificial scent you couldn't find in this sweaty, stale fantasy dump.
"Probably from washing up yesterday."
"For just a wash... Kinda like fancy soap. High-end vibe."
She sniffed again.
Her full breasts brushed and bounced off my arm.
Soft, heavy feel.
'Driving me nuts, fuck.'
My dick twitched.
Did the same with my sister. This thing stands at the worst times.
Face heated up.
"S-Stop sniffing already."
"Getting shy? Anyway, good thing. You finally smell human."
I backed away flustered, and Luna chuckled.
"All done."
She slapped on a bandage and pulled back.
Regret and relief hit at once.
"Thanks."
I jumped up and hustled to the counter.
Luna followed, flipping open the ledger.
"Time to settle up? Sack up."
Clank.
I upended the sack, and red ores spilled out.
Luna's eyes went wide.
"...You mined all this today?"
"Yeah."
She whistled.
She sorted and counted with practiced ease.
"Total 249. Minus the impure ones."
She appraised them expertly.
"230 mid-grade, 19 low-grade. Way better quality than yesterday. Almost all low-grade then."
Definitely getting the hang of it—ore quality up.
Proof I was becoming a real miner who didn't touch low-grade trash.
249 in one day.
362 total with yesterday.
A third of the goal in two days.
Stats up, so tomorrow even faster.
One or two more days for Steel Body.
"This output qualifies for a rank-up. Congrats. Lower fees from now on."
Luna handed over a coin pouch and a new ID tag with a silver border.
"Thanks."
"Rank-up in two days? Who are you, really?"
"Just got talent?"
I shrugged, and Luna smirked.
"Annoying."
Her eyes were smiling, though.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙Miner rank increased: F → E Acquired 'Skill: Mining (F)' Ore quality from mining slightly improved. Heroine 'Luna' affinity increased. Current affinity: 10 / 100 (Status: Indifferent) Previous affinity: 5
Sucks, kinda.
Skill's nice, but affinity barely budged.
I pocketed the coin pouch and left the guild.
The hefty weight felt great.
Plus Viper's cash—decent sum now.
"Finally done with that chicken-coop dump."
Straight to the village bustling district.
[Golden Pickaxe Inn].
Best facilities and food in town.
Door opened to a bald innkeeper at the counter.
"Room available?"
"200 Lumina a night. Meals extra."
"...200?"
District 4 dorm was 10 a day.
Twenty times more.
Facilities looked nicer, but price was robbery.
"Ain't that steep?"
"Don't like it, leave. Plenty other places. Crash in a pigsty down the street."
Baldy scratched his gut, bored.
Asshole attitude.
Everyone here had trashed personalities.
'Does the original comic's author hate humans or what?'
No normal people anywhere.
Definitely force-placed villains to grind the protagonist. Ruins plausibility.
"Fine, I'll take it. Filthy cheapskate."
Tossed four silver coins from the pouch.
His eyes lit up.
"Welcome, honored guest! Second floor, end room!"
Instant attitude flip.
Fuck, baldy. That's why you're bald.
Grabbed the key and headed up.
Room had a plush bed and—jackpot—private bath.
Pricey, but worth it.
Flopped onto the warm bed.
Gotta mine more tomorrow.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Next morning.
Up and to the market first thing.
Top priority with yesterday's earnings.
Blacksmith shop, hammers clanging loud.
Time for a new pickaxe.
Guild loans were rusted and chipped—lame.
Craftsmen don't blame tools, but good gear boosts output, fact.
"Come on in!"
Muscular dwarf smith paused mid-swing to greet.
World had dwarves.
Males short with beards like uncles.
Females shortstacks—petite but hot.
"Decent pickaxe. Sturdy one."
"Ho, got an eye. How's this? Black iron. Cuts rock like tofu."
Smith offered a glossy black pickaxe.
Felt heavy, solid grip.
Sharp tip—sink deep with a tap.
"How much?"
"2500 Lumina."
"..."
Ridiculously pricey.
But invest right.
This'd double my speed.
"Here."
Paid up, slung the new pick over my shoulder.
Felt pro now.
On the way to the mine entrance.
Miners who'd mocked me yesterday still clustered.
But vibe different.
"Hey, check that guy. Beat Viper yesterday?"
"Bull. That shrimp?"
"For real. Guards saw. Viper carted off, eyes rolled back."
Whispers reached me.
Gazes mixed wariness, fear.
No one picking fights—in fact, they'd look away if I met eyes.
'Power rules.'
Simple street logic.
Strong = boss, weak = mark.
And good miners get respect.
Money is power.
'Or the Charm stat?'
-20 to -2. Ten times less ugly.
Still negative, but less repulsive—maybe why.
Either way, easier.
Into the mine.
Test the new gear.
Clang-!
Clear, crisp sound.
Rocks shatter easier after a few swings.
"Damn, should've bought sooner."
Tofu-cutting hype was BS.
But gear makes a difference.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙Strength slightly increased from repeated labor. Strength +0.1
Mining on, watching stats tick up.
Current Iron Ore mined: 410/1000Current Iron Ore mined: 550/1000
Passed 500 before lunch.
'800 today easy.'
By dusk, sack bursting.
Current Iron Ore mined: 827/1000
465 today.
Insane efficiency.
Earth's Blessing no fatigue, Mining (F), new pick—makes sense.
"Heh heh heh."
Grin crept up.
This pace, Steel Body tomorrow for sure.
'Nah, finish today? Late night, maybe dawn.'
Thought it over, decided tomorrow.
No rush.
Wiped sweat from brow, tied the sack.
Red iron ores glimmered.
Faint vibrating red glow.
Comic lore: trace mana infused.
Stronger than normal iron, magic tool material.
Random thought hit.
'Take this to reality?'
Inventory brings real stuff here, so reverse?
Mana stones, special ores fetch fortunes back home.
One haul could make bank.
'Or craft weapons, sell to real hunters.'
Money vibes.
Test later.
For now, 800 done—head home.
That's when.
"Kyaaah-!!"
Scream echoed.
From deep in the cave—a woman's shriek.
"...?"
Grip tightened on pickaxe.
Pretty close.
"Please! Spare me! Kyaaak!"
Getting closer.
Heading this way.
"Fuck, just wanna clock out. What now."
Irritation surged.
Enjoying small joys, and this shit.
Ignore? But screams grated.
Resettled pickaxe grip, ready to smash whatever head popped out, glaring into the dark.