As much as I wanted to stay up and grind all night, the tutorial slimes probably wouldn’t give much experience anymore, and I needed better gear before I could hunt efficiently in Viridian Basin.

I logged out and spent another hour reading the arthropod biology book on my computer. Earlier, I had rushed through it because I only needed enough information to carve the spider without ruining anything valuable, but Project Babel allowed players to download copies of in-game books for offline reading.

The creatures and ecosystems were fictional, yet their biology was detailed and internally consistent enough to feel real. Babel wasn’t merely a collection of monsters and quests. It was an entirely new world to study.

I woke around noon the next day, ate something, then settled onto my bed and connected the Neural-X cable to the port at the base of my neck.

A moment later, I was standing in Babel again.

Sunday afternoon had brought even more players into the city. The plaza was packed, and several wooden job boards had appeared near the fountain. Players and locals had posted all kinds of work: deliveries, gathering requests, hunting contracts, crafting commissions, and purchase orders for specific materials.

One order offered more for slime cores than the alchemy shop, so I accepted it as a test. The required cores disappeared directly from my inventory, and the payment appeared in my balance a second later.

“Man, I love technology.”

Since I was still nearly broke, I accepted a few simple odd jobs from the board. One had me deliver a package to a shop across the plaza, while another paid me to carry a crate of supplies from the market to a nearby café. They weren’t exciting, but they only took a few minutes and gave me enough quick cash to work with.

As I returned to the board to look for another job, a message from Kevin appeared.

Kevin: Meet me at the east gate in thirty minutes. Buy a mining helmet and a pickaxe from the general store first.

Luckily, the odd jobs had given me enough to afford both.

After buying the cheapest mining helmet and pickaxe available, I found Kevin waiting beside the east gate dressed like he was preparing to spend a week underground.

A lamp was mounted to the front of his helmet. Blue denim overalls covered most of his clothes, thick work gloves hung from his belt, and a polished pickaxe rested across one shoulder. Even his boots had reinforced metal toes.

“Wow. I feel underdressed for a mining trip.”

“Nah, dude. You’re fine,” Kevin said. “Most of this only gives me a couple of small stat bonuses. All you really need is a pickaxe.”

“Says you.” I looked him up and down again.

He ignored that. “You came with an empty inventory like I said in the message, right?”

“Totally. I never had much in there to begin with.”

“Perfect. Let’s head to the mine.”

I followed him through the gate before remembering one important concern.

“There isn’t a mining entrance fee, is there? I’m trying to save money.”

“Nothing like that. You can only enter once per day, and the first time you go in, you have to register and sign some paperwork.”

“So the mine is free?”

“Yeah.”

“I love this game.”

The city mine was built into the base of a rocky hill east of the walls. A wide glass-and-metal canopy covered two escalators descending underground, while glowing signs directed miners toward separate registration lanes. Polished stone floors reflected the overhead lights, and metal railings divided the steady stream of workers moving in and out.

Several enormous cargo elevators occupied the far side of the entrance. Locals and players pushed loaded mining carts onto the platforms while empty carts rolled back underground. Bells rang whenever an elevator arrived, followed by grinding chains and the clatter of iron wheels.

The place was busier than the market.

A uniformed attendant stood beside a row of machines resembling ticket kiosks. Kevin approached an empty one, opened his portable UI, and scanned the registration code displayed on the screen. The gate beside him opened immediately.

When I approached, the attendant transferred a registration form to my portable UI.

The document contained several pages of rules, safety notices, and liability warnings. I skimmed the first paragraph, scrolled to the bottom, and signed with the confidence of someone who definitely understood the consequences.

[You have registered as a miner with the City.]

The attendant inspected my helmet and pickaxe, then glanced at my clothes.

“Protective gloves and reinforced footwear are strongly recommended,” he said. “Your current equipment is sufficient for the upper level, but avoid unstable tunnels and any excavation areas marked as restricted.”

“Got it.”

He stepped aside and allowed me through.

Beyond the gates, the mine opened into a vast vertical cavern whose bottom disappeared into darkness. Terraced levels had been carved into the stone walls, stacked one beneath another and linked by bridges, ramps, elevators, and rail lines. Mining carts rolled along the ledges like traffic through a sprawling underground city, their lamps tracing moving paths across the rock. Far below, machinery flashed between the lower levels while the steady rhythm of pickaxes and drills echoed from countless tunnels.

Kevin leaned over the railing. “Only B1 is open to beginners right now. The deeper levels require a higher Mining skill and better permits.”

We boarded an elevator with a group of miners and several empty carts. The platform descended past the upper rings of the cavern, chains rattling above us while cold air rose from below.

“There’s a whole city down here,” I said, unable to hide my excitement.

“I know, right?” Kevin leaned over the railing beside me. “It’s way more impressive than I expected. I thought we’d be walking into a hole in the side of a mountain.”

At B1, Kevin led me onto a passenger cart connected to the mining rail network. We climbed inside, and the cart carried us away from the central station through a broad reinforced tunnel. Electric lights and metal supports lined the first section, but the farther we traveled, the less polished everything became.

Concrete gave way to rough stone. Metal beams became timber braces, and the bright overhead lights were eventually replaced by oily lamps hanging from wooden posts.

When the cart finally stopped, we stepped onto a narrow platform facing a network of dark tunnels cut directly into the rock. Pickaxes rang in the distance, and the air smelled of damp earth, dust, and old wood.

Now it looked like a proper mine.

Other miners were already working along the main branch. Pickaxes struck stone in a steady rhythm while players and locals loaded broken rock into empty carts. Whenever one filled, someone pushed it back toward the rail line and replaced it with another.

Kevin stopped beside a rusty-red vein running through the wall.

“First thing,” he said. “Don’t just smash the shiny part.”

“That was exactly what I was going to do.”

“I know.” He pointed toward the dull stone surrounding the ore. “Clear around the edges first. If you hit the deposit badly, you lose yield or break it into low-quality fragments.”

“So if I mess up, I get nothing?”

“Pretty much.”

“That’s harsh.”

Kevin demonstrated with two controlled swings, chipping away the stone surrounding the vein before prying loose a clean piece of ore. I copied him, though my first strike landed too close to the center.

A small fragment shattered and dropped at my feet.

[Mining XP +4]

[Hammer XP +1]

I stared at the second notification. “Why am I getting Hammer XP from mining?”

Kevin rested the pickaxe against his shoulder. “Because it’s basically the same motion. Heavy swing, controlled impact, follow-through. The game counts the technique, not just what tool you’re holding.”

“So I can level a combat skill by hitting rocks?”

“Slowly, yeah. You’re still practicing the swing.”

Kevin glanced down at the broken fragment. “A little too close to the center.”

“I’m learning.”

“You’ll get it.” He pointed toward the edge of the vein. “Aim around here next time.”

He turned back to the deposit and raised his pickaxe again.

Farther ahead, the passage divided into three tunnels.

“So which one are we—”

Kevin raised a finger to his lips. “Shh.”

We had traveled far enough from the central cavern that the machinery and crowds had faded into a distant murmur. Beneath it, I caught a quieter sound coming from somewhere ahead.

Scrape. Scrape. Crunch.

“Are those rats?” I whispered.

“This way.” Kevin pointed toward the tunnel on the far right. “It’s coming from there.”

Naturally, it looked like the worst of the three. The floor was uneven, several wooden supports leaned at uncomfortable angles, and the lamps along the wall stopped glowing farther inside. The other two tunnels were well lit and covered in fresh footprints.

“You sure about this?” I asked. “I think everyone else went that way.”

“That’s the point.”

Kevin tossed me a small flashlight. “Keep it on the lowest setting.”

We entered the right-hand tunnel as quietly as we could. Even with both lights on, we could only see a few meters ahead. The scraping grew louder until something round shifted beside the wall.

I narrowed my eyes and used the Assessment skill.

[Lv1. Shaggletooth]

The creature was about the size of a groundhog, with a squat body covered in long gray-brown fur. Its shaggy coat hung completely over its eyes, leaving only a twitching nose and two oversized front teeth visible. It sat on its hind legs beside the wall, steadily chewing away the ordinary stone surrounding a thin glittering vein.

“Yeah, man, they’re h—”

“Free loot!”

I darted forward before Kevin could finish and swung my pickaxe.

The Shaggletooth vanished into the darkness with surprising speed.

CLANG.

My pickaxe struck the exposed rock where it had been sitting.

[Mining XP +10]

[Hammer XP +10]

“—harmless,” Kevin finished.

I stared into the tunnel. “That thing moved fast.”

“It thought you were trying to murder it.”

“It looked like good loot.”

While Kevin worked steadily through the first vein, I followed our little rodent friend deeper into the tunnel—not to kill it this time.

Mostly.

Wherever the Shaggletooth stopped, its oversized teeth scraped away the ordinary rock around thin deposits hidden in the walls. Each time I caught up, it sat somewhere ahead chewing as though it had already forgotten I existed. The moment I approached, it slipped away beneath its hanging fur and disappeared farther into the darkness.

I mined the deposits it exposed along the way.

[Mining XP +10]

[Hammer XP +10]

After several turns, the Shaggletooth vanished around another bend and didn’t reappear.

“Fine,” I called after it. “Keep your loot.”

Kevin was far behind me now, so I turned my attention to the latest vein the creature had uncovered. Unlike the rusty-red ore from earlier, this one was dark gray with a faint metallic shine.

I planted my feet and swung.

CLUNK.

The pickaxe bounced off without leaving so much as a scratch.

[Pickaxe Not Strong Enough]

“Yo, Kevin! Come check this out.”

His helmet lamp appeared farther down the tunnel as he followed my voice. The moment he saw the exposed vein, his eyes widened.

“You lucky bastard. That’s magnetite.”

“You mean a magnet?”

“No, magnetite.” He crouched beside the vein and brushed away the loose stone. “It’s one of the best iron ores available on B1. You get a higher metal yield when you smelt it, and it can produce stronger material than the common red ore.”

He stood and raised his polished pickaxe.

“It took me three hours to find some yesterday, and I couldn’t even mine it because the basic pickaxe was too weak. This one, though—I made it myself.”

Kevin swung.

CLUNK.

A chunk of dark ore broke free and dropped to the ground. Behind it, two more deposits glimmered inside the wall.

Kevin froze. “No freaking way.”

“What?”

“There are two more behind it.”

“Yes!” I raised both hands. “Better gear for me!”

“I can finally make the black iron stuff!”

“High five!”

“High five!”

Our palms smacked together in the middle of the tunnel.

We kept mining for another two hours before we were finally forced to stop—not because either of us was tired, but because we had run out of places to put the ore.

Both of our inventories were full. We had filled the two mining carts allowed under our permits, one for each of us, and borrowed a pair of wheelbarrows from a supply station farther up the tunnel. Even those were piled high enough that loose stones shifted whenever we touched the handles.

Kevin rested both hands on his pickaxe and surveyed the haul. “I think we did pretty well.”

“Pretty well?” I nudged one of the wheelbarrows with my boot. “We need a truck.”

“Most of that is low-grade ore and stone.”

“Still counts.”

He crouched beside the cart containing the magnetite and ran a gloved hand over one of the dark chunks.

“So, about this stuff.”

“You can keep all the magnetite,” I said. “Use whatever you need for my gear. Anything left belongs to you.”

Kevin looked up. “You sure?”

“You’re already making the gear without charging me labor. Besides, it’s useless to me until somebody smelts it.”

“Right.” He looked back at the ore. “I’ll set aside enough for your equipment first. Anything left after that goes toward my own gear.”

“Deal.”

Under our original agreement, everything loaded into the mining carts belonged to Kevin. In exchange, he would use the materials to craft my shield, dagger, and armor without charging me for his work.

I kept what remained inside my personal inventory, which included several smaller deposits we had gathered along the way: rusty-red iron ore, copper, coal, a few pale metallic chunks Kevin had identified once and I had immediately forgotten, and enough ordinary stone to make me question why I had picked all of it up.

Apparently, empty inventory space created its own form of greed.

We retraced our path toward the main branch, pushing the loaded wheelbarrows ahead of us. At the first vein, we transferred the final piles into the carts and secured everything beneath heavy canvas covers.

Kevin scanned the registration code mounted on the leading cart with his portable UI. A light on the cart turned green.

[Route Confirmed: B1 Central Station]

The wheels locked onto the rail, and the cart began moving on its own. The second cart followed behind it.

We climbed onto the narrow passenger bench at the back.

As the carts carried us away, the lamps along the tunnel passed one after another, briefly lighting the rough stone walls before fading behind us. The branches where we had spent the afternoon gradually disappeared into the darkness until all that remained was the rhythmic clatter of wheels against the rails.

Kevin glanced behind us. “You returned the wheelbarrows, right, Cloud?”

“I thought you did.”

We looked at each other.

“Ah, shit.”

I leaned back against the cart. “Well, we’re already pretty far.”

Kevin sighed.

“Not bad for two hours, though.”

He looked over the mountain of ore behind us. “We still have to unload it.”

“Let me enjoy this for five seconds.”

He laughed. “Fine.”

By the time we reached the central station, miners were arriving from every direction. Workers directed loaded carts toward inspection lanes while empty ones were separated and returned to the rail network. Kevin and I stayed with our haul as it was transferred onto one of the cargo elevators.

The platform rose slowly through the cavern. Terraced levels passed beneath us one by one, their bridges, workshops, and moving cart lights shrinking into the distance. Eventually, the open cavern vanished below, replaced by the bright stone walls of the upper station.

Near the exit, Kevin chose the IMR pickup service instead of hauling everything across the city himself.

“That costs money?” I asked.

“A little.”

“I thought you were broke.”

“I am. Do you want to push two loaded carts back to the shop?”

“Nope.”

“Exactly.”

At the temporary storage counter, several workers removed the canvas covers and scanned the contents of each cart. A machine beside the counter printed a complete inventory list along with a tracking label.

Kevin checked the list. “Magnetite, iron ore, copper ore, coal, stone…”

He scanned the tracking label with his portable UI and selected his forge as the delivery destination.

The workers rolled our carts into the storage area, where they joined several dozen other shipments waiting to be transported.

Just like that, an afternoon’s worth of mining was on its way to Kevin’s shop without either of us lifting another wheelbarrow.

I watched the carts disappear behind the storage doors. I had entered the mine with a cheap pickaxe, almost no money, and no idea what I was doing. I came out with a full inventory, materials for my new gear, and the strange urge to return tomorrow.

I finally understood why people could spend entire games hitting rocks.