A Genius Mage Hides His Origins - A Genius Mage Hides His Origins chapter 21

21 – Poison

July 24th. Slightly cloudy.

The numbers attached to the gangdo are said to be assigned in the order of excavation start at each gangdo.

Therefore, the higher the number, the deeper the excavation progress and the higher the difficulty of the work.

Conversely, the lower the number, the lower the workload.

Since there is still a large amount of buried coal, even if we swing the pickaxe slowly, the production rate is not affected much, and the gangdo is not too deep, so the risk of oxygen depletion and collapse is lower.

But there were exceptions.

Chapter 7.

Though it was one of the last to be excavated, the seventh tunnel boasted the highest level of difficulty within the mine.

Even just by looking at the recruitment notice, the reason vaguely became apparent. However, it was only when I donned the work clothes and stood before the tunnel that I truly understood the notorious reputation.

“It seems this batch of newcomers consists of the inexperienced ones.”

The supervisor.

His cold gaze, pencil between his lips, ruthlessly scanned the workers lined up in four rows.

*

No one knew better than the supervisor himself that his harsh treatment of the laborers contributed significantly to the notoriety of the seventh tunnel.

He had no intention of changing his attitude.

Since he took office, the coal mining output in the seventh tunnel had risen remarkably.

Even considering the doubled wages for the laborers, it was a clear profit.

“We start work at eight in the morning. Two meals and rest breaks will be provided.”

The supervisor, reciting formal instructions, began scrutinizing the new recruits.

A total of four.

It was quite regrettable that two of them had faces suggesting they might run away within a day.

It was even a loss to entrust them with trivial tasks; they would likely run away after being taught.

He shifted his focus to the other two newcomers.

“…”

Gray hair. The physique seemed decent, but he appeared unable to exert much strength.

I wonder if this guy will last for about three days.

Still, the black-haired person next to me seemed to be in good condition. About a week or so.

If I teach them well, they should be able to continue working. I felt a potential for that.

“That’s all for the instructions. Newbies, come to me. I’ll let you know what you need to do.”

In an instant, the supervisor finished assigning tasks in his mind.

“Two of you are guards. Follow those big guys.”

It’s better to squeeze out the benefits from those who are going to run away anyway.

“Black-haired one, follow that old man.”

The one who seems to have potential will receive instruction from an experienced mentor.

“Grey-haired one.”

And the one who is neither here nor there, will be in charge of odd jobs.

“See that canary cage over there? Take it and follow the black-haired one.”

A yellow bird chirping in a small cage.

It’s a measure to determine if the oxygen pressure is at a dangerous level, but constantly moving it and worrying about it is quite annoying.

Therefore, the supervisor’s method was to always assign the canary to the least experienced person.

There was also the incidental benefit of giving the others a sense of superiority, like “I’m not inexperienced” or “I’m better than that person”, so it couldn’t be a bad method.

After all, a sense of superiority helps improve work efficiency.

“Now, let’s get started.”

After confirming that all the workers, including the four newbies, had entered the corridor, the supervisor put a whistle in his mouth instead of a pencil and blew it sharply.

It was a signal announcing the start of the actual work.

Clang- Clang- Clang-

The sound of pickaxe hitting the ground echoed, not something you’d consider pleasant to listen to.

The supervisor didn’t enter the tunnel.

Normally, he would follow along until the entrance and see if anyone was slacking off, but today there was paperwork piled up that needed to be dealt with outside.

He idled away a few hours in a cabin near the tunnel, twirling his pen.

He took out a pocket watch from his pants pocket to check the time.

It was two in the afternoon. Time for a break.

Stepping outside, the supervisor blew his whistle loudly.

“Break time!”

Then he started to observe the entrance of the tunnel intently.

This moment was no exaggeration to say it was the most crucial moment right after new recruits joined.

Who would come out first?

That needed to be confirmed.

If they were just ordinary young men born and raised in the federation, most of them wouldn’t have even held a pickaxe, let alone done any digging.

With the radical advancement of magic and the envy that students had for magicians, the tendency to avoid physical labor became even stronger.

How well could they handle a pickaxe?

They would probably exhaust all their energy after just one hour of work.

If it were six hours later, they would surely be completely worn out and probably wouldn’t even have the strength to walk.

So, the person who came out of the tunnel first among the new recruits was the most important. The one who showed the most promise.

“This time, it’s going to be boring.”

The supervisor clicked his tongue as he watched the experienced workers covered in sweat and dirt pouring out.

It was obvious that Bonamana’s muscular, black-haired head would be the first to come out. Because in that moment, knowing the result of the match in advance would make it less interesting.

And then, in the midst of all that.

The procession of experienced workers. The supervisor spotted a strange face mixed in at the end.

With his arms and face, and even his hair, blackened to the point of being unrecognizable, the supervisor had a moment of doubt when he saw the face resembling a parasite.

But when he saw the person holding a canary cage in the hand opposite the one carrying the pickaxe, he was certain.

The gray-haired person came out first.

#July 25th. Cloudy.

The next day, when the supervisor entered the mine, he finally understood the mystery from the previous day.

Clang- Clang- Clang-

“……”

“Kuh, ugh!”

Gray hair and black hair.

Yujin and Damon stood side by side, swinging their pickaxes, making it easy to compare them at a glance.

Yujin’s posture was neat, and the transfer of force from the swing to the strike was smooth.

“Hoo!”

Kang- A clean pickaxe strike resounded.

With regular breathing and lively eyes, Yujin gave off the feeling that he had found a way to reduce the strain on his waist and wrists.

Damon, too, looked convincing in his pickaxe work, as if he had received guidance on his posture from an experienced person.

However, it seemed that he had no understanding of the hidden intricacies in his movements.

“Heuk. Heuk… Kuk!”

He was striking down purely with strength, instead of relying on the movement and recoil of the load.

If he continued to strike like that for a few hours, he might prefer to collapse.

The supervisor massaged his stubbled chin while pondering.

Actually, a regular newbie isn’t much superior to Damon. Considering that the two guys from before have already run away, Damon can be seen as having a fairly high potential even among the newcomers.

The strange one was Eugene.

Good at tactics. It’s easy to say, but for someone who is still just a newbie to maintain a posture for more than ten hours while swinging a pickaxe is a kind of madness.

It’s a task that requires not just physical strength and concentration but an unreasonable obsession.

The supervisor sincerely thought, “What’s this guy’s identity?”

#July 29th. Slightly cloudy.

“Heuk. Huk. Heuk.”

The vision is spinning.

Damon was on the verge of death.

It’s been three days since the canary cage became Damon’s.

The hellish intensity of the job drained Damon’s stamina, and inadequate rest, sleep deprivation, and a terrible-tasting meal slowly devoured his mental strength.

Now, what’s pulling his body is a kind of inertia.

And except for slightly gaunt features, there was a triumphant feeling towards the seemingly unharmed Eugene.

Kaang―

There was no strength to open his mouth, but Damon, with a determined look, managed to lift the corner of his mouth as he spoke.

“Gray-haired child. It wasn’t like choosing Gangdo No. 7 without any confidence, right?”

“……”

“There’s still a chance to escape, so don’t hesitate.”

“Huh. Keep it quiet; my head is splitting.”

Yujin responded without casting a glance.

“I don’t know why you harbor resentment, but I came here solely to make money. Choosing Gangdo No. 7 was because they promised double the reward.”

“……”

“Let’s stop childish acts here. Seeing you come all the way to the mine, there must be some reason for you too, right?”

The conversation couldn’t go further.

From Noble mtl dot com

Whirr!

The sound of a windmill echoed.

―Break! It’s time for dinner!

“That’s right. Let’s eat something.”

“…To call that stuff food. You have a good stomach.”

“Well.”

Yujin replied and then put down the pickaxe, starting to walk.

The magical light of the lanterns illuminating the gangway revealed the scars on arms and back vividly.

The disgusting gray hair was now dyed dark, as if it belonged to him.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be easy to wash that off.

“Tsk.”

Damon also stopped his idealistic thoughts and took a step forward.

That’s when it happened.

As the canary let out a sinister cry, a faint vibration rose from beneath his feet.

Unconsciously, he looked ahead.

Perhaps because he was tired, he didn’t notice anything.

And then, from above, dust started to fall, making a clattering sound.

“Uh, uh, uh!”

Damon instinctively jumped out and grabbed the back of his neck. He heard a tired sound coming from his throat, but he didn’t pay attention to it.

However, when dust started falling from above his head as well, Damon’s body froze in place.

Fortunately, Eugene also realized the situation.

This time, he grabbed Damon and shouted.

“Get down!”

The next moment.

Crackling and rumbling―!

The ceiling of the tunnel split open and collapsed.

The tunnel was blocked.