"¡Asjkadhbu! ¡Lijdksan di nlijerda!" The slave driver's shouts were incomprehensible to Liu Hanbing. The sharp cracks of the thin wooden rod against the ground rang in his ears, sending involuntary shivers up his spine. He raised his eyes again, willing it to appear, and there it was, flickering before him:
[Liu Hanbing. Namer. Lvl: 0]
[Class: No class]
[Spells: No spells]
[Cultivation: No cultivation]
[Erosion: 1%]
[Amulets: 0]
[Coins: 0]
[Shop] [Exit]
There it was, his only hope to face this situation. He still couldn't believe it, yet everything felt so real. He was in another world, in another body, in a pitiful state. The only thing he could cling to was this magical system. "Namer" was what he had for now, and like the games he used to play as a teenager, he was starting at level 0. He needed to find a way to level up. But the hunger was ravenous, the only thing he could think about right now, and the heavy pickaxe in his hand slipped more with each moment.
"¡Mi-flerisas!" the slave driver shouted beside him. They were reaching the mine's entrance. The line of malnourished, weakened, and hopeless slaves entered once more into the dark bowels of the mountain. Passing through a dark tunnel with a stone archway, the sunlight vanished, replaced by the faint glow of oil lamps every twenty meters, making it hard to see even two people ahead.
The slaves advanced, their steps a silent shuffle as they split into the narrow passageways winding through the mine's depths. No words were needed; their resignation hung heavy in the air, a shared understanding forged by endless days of labor. Dust clung to their emaciated bodies, coating their skin like a second shroud, and every so often a cough—wet and ragged—broke the silence. Like machines driven by instinct, they dispersed into the darkness, each knowing their assigned corridor without a glance, their movements mechanical.
Liu Hanbing followed the flow of bodies, his frail arms trembling under the pickaxe's weight. He stumbled as he moved, mimicking the others, trailing the middle-aged man ahead until he stopped before a stretch of stone that seemed recently chipped and stepped aside from the line behind, turning to look at Liu Hanbing. Liu did the same, having watched what the others did on the way here; the group of slaves paired up for the digging tasks, and this man before him was his partner today. His face was etched with deep lines of misery, his hands calloused and cracked as he held a pickaxe identical to Liu's.
The middle-aged man positioned himself before the freshly chipped stone and delivered a first strike with his pickaxe, the sound echoing through the gloomy passageway. Then, he turned his head toward Liu Hanbing with a hard, expectant gaze. Without giving him a choice, he let Liu take over, striking once, then glancing back at the man beside him. No response. He struck again, each blow an exhausting effort that made his frail arms quiver, and again looked back. Nothing. Resigned, Liu delivered a third strike to the stone. Only then did the man join in.
Liu, panting, lifted his eyes and looked around, noticing how the other miner pairs maintained a balanced rhythm: one strike each, alternating. The injustice hit him like an echo of his weakness. The man before him, however, broke that unspoken rule, starting with a single strike to feign effort before forcing Liu to bear the brunt of the work, each impact draining the little strength he had left. The difference was clear: each strike the man avoided was a reserve of energy, a cruel calculation to prolong his life in a world where food was scarce and death loomed.
When Liu, exhausted after his three strikes and seeing the man pic once, lowered the pickaxe and waited for him to match his effort, the man frowned and pushed him subtly with his shoulder—a disguised but firm nudge that unbalanced him. The man hissed something more, a low insult that sounded like a threat, and pointed brusquely at the stone, forcing him to keep digging.
Liu Hanbing was indignant, but there was nothing he could do; he was too weak, far too weak. Each strike reverberated through his bones, making him dizzier with every swing. Yet there was something he'd noticed that gave him a flicker of hope, a reason to keep going. Every three strikes of the pickaxe in his hands against the stone, he heard a faint chime in his head, and white letters gleamed in his vision:
[You have acquired an experience point!]
[You have acquired an experience point!]
[You have acquired an experience point!]
***
Liu Hanbing had no idea how long he'd been hacking at that damned stone wall. Three strikes from him, one from his cruel companion. Slave drivers passed behind them at intervals, patrolling the mine's passageways, striking the ground with their rods and shouting unintelligible commands when they saw a slave not keeping the pace they deemed acceptable. No one intervened upon seeing the man's behavior toward Liu, as if this were a common occurrence.
[You have acquired an experience point!]
Between dizziness and weakness, Liu summoned the panel before his eyes:
[Liu Hanbing. Namer. Lvl: 0]
[Experience: 93%]
[Class: No class]
[Spells: No spells]
[Cultivation: No cultivation]
[Erosion: 1%]
[Amulets: 0]
[Coins: 0]
[Shop] [Exit]
Almost there, he thought. Leveling up was the only thing giving him a shred of hope. He didn't believe he could keep this pace much longer. He was too weak. The body he now inhabited had apparently gone without food for a long time and was gravely ill. The surprised looks from some slaves made it clear how unexpected it was that the child was still alive. Gaining the Namer title seemed to have healed his sickness; what the system called "Erosion" had dropped from 7% to 1%. But his hunger and weakness remained. He didn't have much time left.
[You have acquired an experience point!]
While striking, a sharp squeak beside him snapped Liu Hanbing out of his daze. Among the uneven stones of the wall, a creature resembling a mouse peeked out its thin, trembling tail, moving with nervous speed. He had no time to process it: a rough, strong hand grabbed his shoulder from behind and yanked him violently, throwing him back onto the dusty ground. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and as he looked up, he saw the middle-aged man, his work partner, with bloodshot eyes and a wild expression he hadn't shown before.
Confusion flooded the boy. The man lunged at him, striking his chest with a closed fist, a dull thud that made Liu groan in pain. He tried to retreat, but the space was tight, and dust rose in choking clouds. "What does he want?" he wondered, instinctively raising an arm to defend himself. Then he saw the mouse scurrying among the rocks, and a spark of realization hit him: "Food!" The ravenous hunger gnawing at him from within spurred him on; never in his old life would he have considered eating a raw mouse, but here, in this hell, it was a chance at survival. With a choked cry, Liu lunged forward without thinking, yanking at the man's greasy hair to push him away.
The fight turned into a raw, desperate chaos, two starving slaves battling over a pitiful prize. The man, larger and with the advantage of his bulk, retaliated with a headbutt that connected with Liu's forehead, sending stars dancing in his vision. Liu bit the man's forearm in return, his teeth sinking into the dirty, salty skin, tasting blood as the man roared in pain. They rolled across the uneven ground, trading clumsy blows: a punch from Liu to the man's side, met with a kick to Liu's ribs that expelled the air from his lungs. Liu pulled the man's hair harder, trying to pin him down, but the man shoved him against the mine wall, his fetid breath close to Liu's face as he whispered guttural insults. No one wanted to draw attention.
"¡Loraldso it putlerf! ¡Lohndas!" the man hissed between a whisper and a broken shout, likely an insult aimed at the boy. Stinking saliva splattered Liu Hanbing 's face.
Their weakness made them slow, each move a massive drain on the little energy they had left, but hunger drove them with animal ferocity.
Lifted by the neck of his tattered clothes, Liu Hanbing struggled. With an unexpected headbutt, he stunned the man, who, in a rage while holding him with one hand, swung an elbow with the other, striking Liu's jaw. A tooth flew out, and the taste of blood in his mouth made him think surrender might be best. His rags tore further, and he fell hard onto the cave floor.
Liu, gasping and with his strength fading, saw the mouse lying still near a crack, oddly still for such a timid creature. With a final effort, he reached out and crushed it against the ground with a loose stone. A brief crunch sounded. The miner reacted instantly: with a triumphant roar, he kicked the boy's ribs desperately, knocking him aside, and snatched the small lifeless body. Liu, dazed and breathless, tried to grab it again, scratching at the man's rough shins, but the man stomped on his hand, drawing a scream and forcing him to let go. Victorious, the desperate miner shoved the mouse into his mouth, tearing into its raw flesh with his teeth, a wild euphoria in his eyes as he chewed the tough meat ravenously, leaving Liu in the dust, defeated, with an empty stomach and a new hatred burning inside. Until he noticed:
[You have slain a Cave Mouse!]
[You have acquired an experience point!]
[You have acquired an experience point!]
[You have acquired an experience point!]
[You have acquired an experience point!]
[You have acquired an experience point!]
[You have acquired an experience point!]
[You have acquired an experience point!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've unlocked new opportunities in the shop!]
[You've received five coins! Enjoy!]
Suddenly, a comforting freshness coursed through Liu Hanbing's body, like a gentle breeze caressing his weary bones. A moan of pleasure escaped his lips, an involuntary sound that clashed with the misery around him, as that sensation enveloped him like a balm, easing the tension he'd carried since arriving in this cruel world.
Then, an intense tingling began in his wounds: the scratches and bruises from the fight with the man started healing at an inhuman speed. The torn skin on his arms and hands closed before his eyes, the red and purple marks fading as if time had accelerated, leaving only a faint tickling sensation. At the same time, the desolate hunger that had tormented his stomach vanished, as if an invisible hand had extinguished the fire consuming him, replaced by a lightness that made him gasp in awe. He felt renewed. And there on the floor, he quickly glanced at the system:
[Liu Hanbing. Namer. Lvl: 1]
[Experience: 0%]
[Class: No class]
[Spells: No spells]
[Cultivation: No cultivation]
[Erosion: 1%]
[Amulets: 0]
[Coins: 5]
[Shop] [Exit]
Not much had changed. The next step was the shop. He had to be quick; the slave drivers wouldn't be lenient when they saw him sprawled on the floor.
[Titles] [Classes] [Names] [Spells] [Techniques] [Resources] [Stories] [Modifiers]
"Names?" he thought, and decided to take a look.
[Name of Strength. Level: 1]: Two coins.
[Name of Hardness. Level: 1]: Two coins.
[Name of Endurance. Level: 1]: Two coins.
[Name of Silence. Level: 1]: Two coins.
...
[Name of Poison. Level: 1]: Five coins.
[Name of Cold. Level: 1]: Seven coins.
[Name of Fire. Level: 1]: Seven coins.
[Name of Wind. Level 1]: Seven coins.
...
[Name Investigator]: Twenty coins
A long list appeared before his eyes, all options consting two, five or seven coinsm except the last one [Name Investigator]. "How strange," he thought. He didn't choose right away but browsed other options to be sure.
[Classes]:
-
Nothing available yet. Discouraged, he glanced at [Techniques].
[Blood Refinement Technique]: Twenty coins.
[Venomous Flesh Refinement Technique]: Twenty coins.
[Jade Bone Forging Technique]: Thirty-five coins.
[Celestial Flower Breathing Technique]: Forty-five coins.
"Those must be the famous cultivation techniques from the wuxia novels I loved reading as a kid," he thought. "Too expensive."
He found nothing in [Spells] or [Resources]. "My level must be too low," he concluded. Only in [Modifiers] did he find something that lit up his face.
[Language Translator]: Three coins.
[Kanem Language Comprehension]: Five coins.
Now, yes, he didn't hesitate; there was no time to doubt. Focusing his gaze where his intentions lay, he selected: [Name of Strength. Level: 1] [Language Translator].
It was hard to grasp. A strange knowledge flooded his mind, subtle and fleeting—a series of sounds, syllables echoing in his brain. He couldn't hold onto them, name them with conscious thought. If he tried to retain them, they slipped away. For now, it was impossible; he simply needed to reach into the depths of his mind and let them spill from his mouth as sounds before they vanished. Something told him that's how the Names worked.
But this wasn't the moment. He rose from the cave floor, dust covering his body. He hurried to where his pickaxe lay. The sound of wooden rods striking the ground echoed nearby. The miner, having just finished his bloody feast, was now delivering a slow, heavy strike to the stone wall. Surprised, he cast a cautious glance at the boy, unable to believe his rapid recovery, but said nothing—apparently, such clashes over food were common among the slaves. He paused, waiting for Liu Hanbing to resume digging behind him. The boy advanced, his gaze cold on the stone. This wasn't the time to act; for now, the slave driver was approaching. There would be time later.