"Uwaaaah!"
I stretched as soon as I opened my eyes.
Crack, pop.
The sound of my joints popping echoed crisply through the room.
"Whoa, fuck. My body's in insane shape."
I ran my hands over myself.
Shoulders, waist, arms, legs.
Even after pushing myself to the brink yesterday and crashing on the hard floor without a bed, not a single muscle ache.
Must be thanks to the Earth's Blessing trait I picked up yesterday.
It reduces fatigue, alright. Just sleeping it off brought my condition back to peak.
Normally, your first day of hard labor leaves you bedridden with aches the next morning—that's the rule. This is basically a cheat code.
"Alright, time to make some money."
I splashed some water on my face and headed out.
The slums were already noisy from early morning.
Drunks still half-sloshed were puking their guts out on the street, while scrawny kids darted between them begging for scraps.
What a fucking shithole.
No romance, just a goddamn sewer.
But my steps were light.
I headed straight for the market.
Time to gear up with yesterday's earnings.
Luna had nagged me about gloves.
Without them, my palms would be shredded again today for sure.
The market was already buzzing with people.
Bargaining shouts and brawls echoed everywhere.
I stopped in front of a general store stall.
The shopkeeper was an old geezer missing half his teeth.
He eyed me up and down and spat,
"Buy something or fuck off. Don't loiter."
Hospitality's in short supply around here.
I picked up a pair of leather gloves shoved in the corner of the stall.
Supposed to be tough bullhide, but the stitching was sloppy as hell.
"How much for these?"
"50 lumina."
"Bullshit, make it 30."
"What? You crazy fuck. Trying to haggle like a thief?"
The old man glared.
But I met his eyes without flinching.
"Stitching's all fucked up. That's why it's rotting in the corner—no one's buying it, right? 30 or nothing."
I tossed the gloves down like they were trash and turned away.
Pure acting, of course.
Show even a hint of desperation, and you're marked as a sucker.
Dealing with bottom-feeders like this? Balls of steel is the way.
One, two, three.
"Ah, fuck! Fine! Take 'em, take 'em!"
The old man's yell hit my back.
"Fucking bad-luck punk shows up first thing in the morning."
I inwardly cheered and tossed him 30 lumina.
He grumbled as he pocketed it.
Slipping them on, they fit snug—decent enough.
Prep complete.
Straight to the mine.
The entrance had a long line again today.
Everyone shuffling in with dead-fish faces, like cattle to the slaughter.
"Hey, anchovy."
Familiar voice.
I turned. It was that pockmarked fucker I'd brushed off yesterday right after arriving.
What's his name again?
Didn't even appear in the original story, I think.
Honestly, even if he did, with that ugly mug, I wouldn't remember.
Pockmark-scarred face grinning with yellow teeth.
Two lackeys flanking him.
"Heard you made bank yesterday. Saw you cozying up to that Luna bitch."
Ah, that's why you don't stand out.
Guess he was pissed seeing Luna heal me and chat.
Makes sense—thugs like him never get touched by her.
Jealousy's blinding.
"But listen. This scene's got rules, yeah?"
Pockmark blocked my path, built like a mountain.
"Gotta pay respects to the seniors. We worried about you all night—couldn't sleep. Call it tuition. Hand over half of yesterday's haul. We'll look out for you then."
Classic thug script.
Real life or comics, extortion lines have zero creativity.
The onlookers snickered, closing the circle.
No escape, huh.
Atmosphere screamed: resist and you're done.
Miners glanced over but said nothing.
Whatever.
I'm not yesterday's me anymore.
"Move."
Pockmark's eyebrow twitched.
"What? You lost it? Made a bit yesterday and now you're blind?"
He lunged with a pot-lid hand for my collar.
Slow.
Moves that seemed fast yesterday now crawled in slow-mo.
Smack!
I snatched his wrist, thumb digging into the pressure point.
"Ugh, urk?"
Pockmark's face twisted.
Strength stat 11.
Nearly 12 with decimals—over twice a normal person's grip.
Plus, I'm on solid ground.
Earth's Blessing action buffs fully active.
Not bone-crushing, but it'd hurt like hell.
"Aaaagh! L-let go!"
He screamed, writhing.
My hand clamped like an iron vice.
Lackeys froze in panic.
"Hey! Do something! Grab the fucker!"
Pockmark bellowed.
One lackey swung a fist and charged.
I yanked Pockmark's arm, tripping him.
No judo skills.
Just trusting trait buffs and stats to slam him down.
Thud!
Paid off—Pockmark face-planted pathetically.
I kicked the charging lackey's shin.
Crack!
"Argh!"
He crumpled, clutching his leg and rolling.
Situation cleared in seconds.
Onlookers gawked.
Skinny anchovy dropping beefcakes? Unbelievable.
Fights aren't about size, you idiots—stats and traits.
That's why big dumbasses in comics get wrecked by twig protagonists.
Not just Abyss Miner—all fiction.
Magic, divine power, ether—whatever insane output, yet they rely on bulk? Makes no sense.
Ptoo.
I spat on the ground and hauled Pockmark up by his hair.
Eyes mixed shock and terror—like it couldn't be real.
"Tuition, right?"
I hissed low in his ear.
"Fine, here's yours. Your life, you piece of shit."
"H-hic!"
Pockmark hiccuped in fear.
Enough. I let go.
He scrambled back, ass-planting.
"Scram, fucker. Show your face again, and I'll cave your skull with a pickaxe."
Pockmark and his lackeys bolted like rabbits.
Not even looking back—pathetic sight.
No big deal.
I dusted my hands.
Refreshing.
This is power.
Yesterday I was trembling, watching my step. Now I'm on top.
Wanna just kill the bastard.
But even scum like that—actual murder brings heat.
Miners' Guild seems useless, but intra-miner scuffles? Fine. Killing? Execution squad on your ass.
Speaking of—volume 4, that bitch gets framed for killing a miner, chased by the squad, meets protagonist.
He inexplicably thinks she's alright, blocks the squad.
No basis, what a moron.
Misunderstanding clears, she joins as heroine.
Name's Erika.
Tits smaller than Luna's but perfect handfuls—prim and proper.
Long black hair suits her like Yamato Nadeshiko.
Classic Japanese schoolgirl vibe.
She's probably in Lumina Mine Village by now.
She's hot as hell too, but...
After Luna's reaction, she's no easy mark.
Need at least the Love and Peace first reward: Charm +50 to normalize.
Extortionists fucked off, I strolled into the mine.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Clang! Clang! Claaang!
The sounds were different from yesterday.
New gloves cut the recoil, better form hit true.
Above all, Earth's Blessing—no fatigue.
On the ground? Stamina infinite.
Every swing sliced rock like tofu... not quite, but no more grunting.
One swing cracks, two shatters, three yields ore.
Massive speed boost over yesterday.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙[Current Iron Ore Mined: 245/1000]
Over 100 mined by morning.
This pace? Goal in days.
"Hup!"
I smashed the rock with a shout.
Red-glowing iron ore chunks tumbled out.
"Nice, perfect."
Money duplicating.
All cash and XP.
Never thought labor could be this fun.
No pain, no distractions—pure focus.
⚔ STATUS ⚔📝 Repetitive Labor: Agility slightly increased💨 Agility: +0.1
Stat ups were bonuses.
Now Strength 11.8, Agility 11.4.
Seems slow? Nah.
Hunter Gallery pros bleed months for +1. 0.8 and 0.4 in two days? Huge.
Deep in the grind.
"Pbuu?"
Clueless jelly blob rubbed my ankle.
Cute, but...
Squish.
"Sorry, bro. Busy."
Stepped on it mercilessly.
Pocketed the moss stone, back to swinging.
Dunno what for, but it'll come up—hoard it.
Infinite loop.
Lunch passed.
Others ate or napped; I didn't stop.
Trait kept hunger low, energy high.
Work while they rest to pull ahead.
Went deeper.
Remote corners folks avoid.
Rich veins, but dark and damp—shunned.
Light stones didn't reach the gloom.
Didn't matter.
Quiet—perfect focus.
Then.
A deep hum from within.
Wind? No, machinery?
Curiosity piqued.
Gripped pickaxe, crept toward it.
Long walk—faint purple glow leaked through rock cracks.
What the?
No mention of this in the comic's first floor.
Tutorial zone, right?
Hidden reward protagonist missed?
Heart raced.
Chance to snag protagonist's secret honey pot first.
Peeked through the gap.
Spacious cavern.
Center:
"...What the hell is that?"
A massive crystal emitting purple light, floating and slowly spinning.
Beneath it.
Something writhed.
Moss slime?
Size wrong.
Ten times normal—huge lump.
Color not drab green: dark purple.
Sharp ore shards embedded everywhere.
⚠️ DANGER ⚠️
[Variant: Polluted Ore Slime]
Name floated red.
Gamers know: extreme danger.
Fucked.
Backpedaled instinctively.
Can't take that with my specs.
Pickaxe? Bounce off.
Look at those ore shards.
Graze and lose flesh.
Run.
Still lowbie.
Reckless death is pointless.
Backing away quietly—super quiet.
Crack.
Foot hit a stone.
Fuck.
Cliché hits now?
Crystal stopped spinning.
Slime mass turned toward me.
No eyes, but I felt stared at.
"Grrr..."
Slime growling like a beast.
Body quivered, launched an ore shard at me.
Whoosh!
Bullet speed.
Grazed my cheek, smashed rear rock.
Boom!—shattered.
"Crazy fuck!"
Direct hit? Instant death.
Bolted without looking.
Embarrassing? Survive first.
Luckily, Earth's Blessing sped my feet.
Mad dash to main path.
Thuds behind, but not pursuing.
Collapsed, gasping.
"Hah... hah... fuck... what was that?"
No such thing in comic.
First floor's peaceful, just slimes!
Author held back? Or my entry changed vars?
Key: floor 1 ain't safe.
I'll kill it someday.
That crystal, variant slime.
Something huge.
Now? Pants-shitting retreat.
Get Steel Body, then different story.
Come back, devour that crystal.
Mind set.
Goals clearer.
Means: pickaxe time.
Forget fear with labor.
Afternoon: insane swinging.
Stray thoughts? Smash rock.
Sunset: sack full again.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙[Current Iron Ore Mined: 362/1000]
113 yesterday, so 249 today?
More than yesterday, but unsatisfied.
Wasted time on that monster.
No detour, +40 easy. Damn.
This pace: 3 days to 1000, claim Steel Body.
Heading out, entrance rowdy.
What? Looked up—familiar face.
Pockmark?
The one I wrecked earlier.
Not alone.
Beside him: meaner mug.
Arm scarred with knife gash.
Notorious gangster: Viper.
Mid-boss name-brand.
Early threat to protagonist.
Threatens tough protag? Means I can't take him yet.
"Big bro, that's him! That anchovy fuck did this to me!"
Pockmark whined, pointing with bandaged hand—steam from my ears.
Should've beaten him worse earlier, fuck.