Por's knife, anti-virus mask, and waist bag were all confiscated, and he obediently followed the two unscrupulous guards into the mine.
Fortunately, none of the foremen and guards in the mine had ever been to the United Market, so no one recognized him as the personal bodyguard of the Valley of the Wind princess.
The reason he didn't run away was to avoid alerting the enemy; otherwise, given his current skills and physique, the guards in the mine really wouldn't be able to stop him.
Moreover, he was just worried about not having a chance to delve into this den of thieves, and now he could take the opportunity to find out the personnel configuration and defense arrangements of the slave mine, and hopefully find out the mastermind behind it all.
As he walked, Por quickly scanned his surroundings out of the corner of his eye.
The roar of generators and the whooshing sound from the ventilation vents mingled in the enclosed space, but the entire mine did not feel stuffy.
Like the Valley of the Wind, the miners here utilize wind power, employing specially structured vertical shafts to introduce fresh air underground.
Por also noted that the number of armed personnel here seemed to exceed what one would expect from simply guarding the miners.
Besides the ordinary guards wearing leather armor and carrying rifles, there were also many soldiers in armor moving around in the distance.
The armor was quite elaborate, unlike the standard armor commonly seen on Pejite or Pejite. They seemed to be more disciplined, rarely moving around, but silently guarding the area.
"Strange soldier—" Por noted this suspicious point in his mind.
Location.
A group of slave laborers mechanically swung their pickaxes against the rock face under the overseer's whip.
The guard stepped forward, spoke briefly to the yawning overseer, pointed at Por, and said something to the effect of, "We've caught another unlucky bastard who doesn't know the rules; he's yours now."
The foreman nodded lazily and waved his hand to indicate that he understood.
The two guards turned and left, not forgetting to turn back and mock Por as they passed by. "Great explorer, keep digging! You might actually find some treasure! Hahahaha!"
Por simply lowered his head and pretended to be scared, but his heart was completely unmoved; he even felt a little like laughing.
"Go get a pickaxe, and don't try anything funny."
"Oh."
After picking up Ceramic Steel pickaxe that looked suitable from the toolbox of the foreman, Por strode towards the mine to get to work.
His attitude surprised the foreman. Usually, new recruits who were dragged or tricked into coming here would cry and wail, so why did this kid seem quite happy?
The foreman had a bad feeling, then grabbed the short-statured Por and pulled him back. "Do you even know how to dig? Why are you running over there!"
He then "dutifully" explained the precautions, explaining that this place was different from other places; in addition to Ceramic Steel, one could sometimes dig up the core components of ancient engines.
Therefore, the white rock layer must be cleared slowly by manpower; one cannot haphazardly grab picks or use machines for violent mining.
"Got that? If you break anything inside and I dock your pay, I'll kill you!"
Por nodded repeatedly; no wonder so many human slaves were still kept here.
The foreman pointed to the group of slave laborers beside him. "Alright, go over there and work with them. If you see anything shiny or a different color down there, stop and call for help. No slacking off."
"Understood!" Por picked up his gleaming silver pickaxe and joined the mining team.
Seeing a new face join the group, especially a seemingly energetic young man, a hint of sympathy flashed across the numb faces of the nearby slave laborers, but it quickly turned into deep helplessness.
Another poor soul has fallen into this bottomless abyss. When will this suffering ever end?
Por didn't find it torturous; on the contrary, he enjoyed it.
Infiltrating enemy camps, disguising himself as a slave laborer, and gathering intelligence—this was a first for him, and he even felt a little thrill.
He loosened his wrists, grabbed the light Ceramic Steel pickaxe, and brought it down.
puff!
With a muffled thud, the pickaxe tip embedded itself deeply into the grayish-white rock layer, and large chunks of brittle molten ceramic peeled off.
With a flick of his wrist, Por pulled the pickaxe out deftly, bringing with it even more debris. The pickaxe flew up and down in his hand with astonishing efficiency.
For Por, who Erdtree Blessing and has a physique far exceeding that of ordinary people, this level of physical labor is much easier than his daily training in the Valley of the Wind.
It wasn't that he was showing off intentionally; it was simply because the Ceramic Steel pick was so sharp and sturdy that the ceramic mixed with impurities was as soft as a Ceramic Steel in front of it.
Even when he occasionally encounters a particularly hard lump with a high Ceramic Steel content, he can break it open with a single pickaxe with a little extra force.
Although he was already holding back and not daring to act too strangely, he still quickly attracted the attention of several slave laborers nearby.
Taking advantage of the overseer's stroll away to slack off, several nearby slave laborers slowly stopped what they were doing and crept over.
A middle-aged man with sunken cheeks spoke first, "Dude, how did you get in here?"
"Uh—I was tricked into coming here by the mine guards," Por answered honestly, his hands still busy with their work.
Another young man, his eyes lifeless, asked, "Is it day or night outside? What month is it?"
"I came in at night, and it's already October." He remembered the day the Joint Gathering began.
Having received their answer, and seeing that Por didn't seem inclined to continue the conversation, the two silently returned to their positions and continued digging.
They seemed to have become accustomed to the lack of hope and had become completely numb.
Only one burly old man remained, frowning as he examined the area that Por had just dug out.
"Young man," the old man advised in a tone of someone with experience, "You can't dig like that."
"Huh? What's wrong? Did I dig wrong?" Por looked at the rubble he had dug up; there was quite a lot of it.
"It's not that it's wrong, it's that they're working too hard." The old man shook his head and pointed to the slow-moving, almost slacking-off slave laborers around him.
"This place is different from those places where wages are calculated by the weight of ore. This is a black mine run by the town mayor. Whether you dig one cubic meter or ten cubic meters of stone today, as long as you don't die, you have to work for twelve hours straight! The foremen don't care if you're tired or not; they only care if the time is up. If you stop, the whip will immediately come lashing out."
"At the rate you're going to succeed, you'll collapse in two days. Then they'll think you're useless—haha."
Por immediately understood the old man's good intentions and began to slow down, just like the people around him.
Seeing that he listened to advice, the old man said nothing more.
After working for a while, he couldn't contain his curiosity and asked in a low voice, "Grandpa, how do you know so much? And you said this is the mayor's property?"
Upon hearing this, the old man looked around warily, making sure the overseer was still slacking off, before daring to answer Por's question.
"Hmph, what town mayor? That's all for show! Kid, you seem pretty capable, not like some idiot who's just been arrested. Did you sneak in here to investigate something too?"
Por was surprised, but remained outwardly calm, mumbling, "Ahem... I'm just an unlucky explorer..."
"Stop pretending. Any ordinary person would be scared stiff if they were brought to this godforsaken place at gunpoint. Who would work as hard as you and still have the leisure to chat?"
Seeing that Por did not answer, the old man took it as a tacit agreement.
He paused for a moment, seemingly making up his mind, and quickly said, "I used to be an explorer too. I got arrested because I was investigating that bastard Gore."
"On the surface, he's the town mayor sent by the Pejite royal family to manage the mines, but behind the scenes, he's the most greedy smuggler in the Sea of Corruption. Ceramic Steel, rare metals, ancient engines—there's nothing he wouldn't dare to trade!"
"I suspect that Gore's ambitions go beyond simply making money. He's colluding with outsiders, stockpiling weapons, and raking in wealth through this illegal mine—he might be planning to overthrow the Pejite royal family!"
At this point, the old man grabbed Por's arm, his eyes filled with pleading. "Kid, I'm afraid I won't have a chance to leave this godforsaken place, but you're skilled enough to sneak in, you must have a way to get out too."
"I beg you, once we get out, you must find King Deus and tell him about Gore's plot! Pejite cannot be ruined by such a person; this is my last wish!"
Upon hearing the old man's request, Por, who should have felt sympathy or indignation, was at a loss for words.
He hesitated for a moment, but decided to tell the truth anyway.
"Um, sir, how long have you been here?"
"It's been almost half a year, hasn't it? What happened?"
" The Pejite royal family has been gone for several months now; the princes have all fled to the Valley of the Wind."
"Oh----ah?"