A Movie Date

The next morning, Russell got up and made breakfast. There was juice and milk in the fridge, along with ready ingredients. He fried eggs and ham, and finished with a decent-looking sandwich.

Gladys looked like she'd seen a ghost. She even thought she was still dreaming. The Russell she remembered was a man of few words who never got up early to cook.

"I've been chasing a girl lately. The magic of love is changing me!"

Gladys reluctantly accepted his explanation. After breakfast, she drove to the Mine, and Russell followed along, claiming he loved the town and wanted to contribute to finding new ore sources.

Gladys was deeply gratified. The old Russell had always rejected the Mine. Today's change showed he was maturing.

The mark of a man's maturity wasn't sleeping with a girl and shedding his virgin label, but understanding family responsibility and willingly sweating for it.

Gladys was overjoyed and said she'd increase Russell's allowance, but he flatly refused, declaring he was an adult and could support himself through labor.

That made Gladys even more satisfied. At the mine office, she called over the foreman, Leon, and had him show Russell around the Mine.

Leon had worked at McCormack Mining for twenty years. He was the most senior miner and knew every tunnel like the back of his hand—even the mine maps weren't as accurate as he was.

"Russell, going down the Mine isn't a game. Don't take off your Helmet no matter what. When you go to the lower levels, make sure to bring goggles and a wet towel..." Leon repeated tirelessly: "If I'm not with you and you get lost, don't panic. Follow the overhead wires and you'll find your way out."

"What if some tunnels don't have wires?"

"Tunnels without wires are restricted areas. Either there's a risk of collapse or high concentrations of Poison Gas. If you want to live, don't go in." As he spoke, Leon clamped the Helmet onto Russell's head and pulled a wet cloth from a bucket.

Russell flatly refused. Never mind how many grubby men had used that cloth before—the key issue was it wasn't safe enough.

Wet cloths mainly worked against water-soluble toxic gases in the Mine, like sulfur dioxide, nitrogen dioxide, and hydrogen sulfide, but they were useless against methane and carbon monoxide. So, to keep himself alive, he strapped on a respirator.

Heavier was better than dead!

Leon chuckled and said nothing. With him, an old hand, around, Russell's worries were unnecessary, but he didn't stop him. Having safety awareness was a good thing.

"You don't have a lighter on you, do you?"

"Of course not. I'm young—I don't want to meet God this early!"

"Heh, kid. God doesn't welcome suicides."

The two soon entered the Mine. The tunnels branched in all directions, with over a dozen abandoned entrances alone. Pitch black inside, lit only by bulbs overhead, wandering in without a guide was like exploring an anthill—utterly disorienting.

Decades of extraction had nearly exhausted the veins. With no work, the workers had left one by one, and Leon, the foreman, had few men left to manage.

The only reason McCormack Mining could still operate was that they hadn't sold off their old stock yet. According to Gladys's calculations, if they didn't find a new source, the company would close in three months.

Russell's purpose here was to scout the area. Under his guidance, Leon led him to a spot with an Ironhide door.

"Outside that Ironhide door is the Shopping Center basement. That idiot mayor—his head must be full of dog shit. I can't figure out why he built a Shopping Center here." Speaking of Mayor White, Leon was furious: "When I voted for mayor back then, I actually believed his bullshit and cast my ballot for him."

McCormack Mining was on the verge of collapse, and Prosperity Town was withering along with it. Mayor White, instead of thinking about weathering the crisis with the town, had contacted a chemical company called Vioro and spent his days stirring everyone up to sell their land and move. Because of the Shopping Center, he could pocket a hefty relocation fee, but everyone knew he'd also get a kickback on top of that.

White didn't care where the townspeople moved or how they'd live afterward. He just wanted to cash in, wringing out the town's last bit of value. The guy was scum!

A whole morning passed, and Leon took Russell on a round of the upper levels. According to Leon, they'd only covered a small part—not even a tenth.

During that time, Russell learned that McCormack Mining mainly extracted pyrite and copper ore, with no associated gold deposits found.

After lunch, Leon took a few miners deeper down to find new ore sources as quickly as possible. Russell told Gladys he wasn't feeling well and left.

Walking back home, Russell opened his journal and circled the marked cave and the Shopping Center. Not seeing any chemical drums that could have caused the spider mutation meant the plot hadn't started yet.

Russell could wait for the plot to trigger, but he didn't remember the original story well, so waiting was pointless. As planned, he still needed to work through the male and female leads.

The male lead, Chris McCormack, was the primary heir to the mining company—Russell's cheap older brother—currently living it up in Phoenix City and out of reach. The female lead, town sheriff Samantha Parker, was right in front of him and the first choice.

Russell picked up the phone and dialed the Parker house. After a few rings, a little boy's voice answered.

Mike Parker!

The sheriff's younger son, brother of Big Chest Girl Ashley, and in the original story, a kid with a deep knowledge of spiders who was a close friend of the Spider Keeper.

"This is Russell. Is Ashley home?"

"You're Russell?" Mike's voice carried a hint of schadenfreude.

"Yeah. Something wrong?"

"Ashley said if someone named Russell calls, tell him she's not home."

With that, he hung up.

Russell shook his head with a smile and dialed again. Ashley was mad, but no matter—after five calls at most, she'd listen to his explanation.

Sure enough, on the third try, Ashley picked up. Her tone was furious, like she didn't want to talk to Russell at all, but he wasn't worried... If she didn't want to talk, why answer?

"Ashley, let me explain. After I got home last night, I called a bunch of times but couldn't get the right number. Because the line was always busy, Aunt Gladys chewed me out, punished me by making me pay this month's phone bill, dragged me to the Mine, and made me dig rocks all morning." Russell didn't give Ashley a chance to interrupt, rattling off at top speed to show he valued her and was full of remorse.

"You... you're not lying to me?"

"Of course not. To get in touch with you as fast as possible, I finished a whole day's work in one morning so Aunt Gladys would let me go. The second I got home, I started calling until I finally reached you." Russell looked in the mirror and said with deep feeling: "Ashley, you have no idea what I went through. Last night I dialed the wrong number, and the person said I was disturbing them and threatened to call the cops on me. It took me forever to explain."

"Sorry... I didn't think it'd cause you so much trouble... I shouldn't have played that prank." Ashley's tough tone softened quickly, full of guilt.

"It's not your fault. I was just too clumsy. Ashley, can you forgive me?"

"Of course! I never blamed you!" Ashley answered almost instantly.

Russell was 'overjoyed,' then hesitated and stammered: "So... can I come see you now... There's still the whole afternoon, and I was thinking... maybe we could go to a nearby city and catch a movie."

Chaos erupted on the other end of the line. Russell caught the faint sound of an argument, ending with Mike's scream.

"What's going on over there, Ashley?"

"Nothing, my silly little brother just tripped and fell..." Ashley's sickly sweet voice came through. "There's no problem with watching the movie, but you'll have to come back in half an hour. I need some time."

"Alright, it's settled!"

Failure Diary

If the number of words you update every day is several times that of others, yet you gain no new collections and no clicks, but you still keep at it tirelessly... then rather than saying you're working hard, it's more accurate to say your editor is really good at feeding you motivational nonsense.