I woke up groggily, my head pounding like a blacksmith’s hammer on steel. The dim light filtering through the window did little to comfort me, and the musty smell of leftover grease hit my nose. My body ached, and I realized I wasn’t in my usual spot under the bridge.
“Hey, Slimmy,” Bunchy’s voice rumbled from across the room. I turned my head slowly to see him sitting in an old recliner, munching—of course—on a hamburger. Where did he even get these things?
“What… happened?”
My mouth flavors sour, and for some reason I am thirsty.
“You blacked out at the bar after a couple of beers. Lightweight.” Bunchy chuckled, crumbs falling onto his shirt. “Bryndisa and her crew tried waking you up, but you were out cold. Me and Sorey had to drag your sorry ass out of there. This is my place, by the way.”
I sat up, and my eyes adjusted to my surroundings. The room was a shrine to fried food. Wrappers were scattered on every surface, soda bottles lined the windowsill, and, bizarrely, a massive framed picture of a triple-decker hamburger dominated one wall.
“Thanks for not leaving me there.”
“No problem. Figured I’d let you crash instead of dumping you. You hungry? Here.” He tossed a paper bag at me. Inside was a steaming hamburger, and he handed me a chipped mug of coffee to go with it.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, biting into the burger.
As I ate, the weight of last night’s failure sank in. I’d had a chance—a real chance—with a woman like Bryndisa. And I blew it. My body wasn’t strong enough to handle a few beers, and now I’d never know what might’ve been.
“What’s wrong, Slimmy?” Bunchy asked, still chewing his own burger. “You look like someone stole your pickaxe.”
“I think I had a chance with her, But I slept. I screwed it up.”
“Hah! That’s tough, buddy. But don’t beat yourself up. She’s just one woman. Plenty more hamburgers in the fryer.”
“Fishes,”
“What?”
“Nothing.” I sighed, finishing my coffee. My disappointment hung heavy, but Bunchy’s humor lightened it—just a little.
“Well, shake it off, We’ve got work in thirty minutes. You good to go?”
“Yeah.” I stood, realizing I was still in the clothes from yesterday. “This is all I’ve got to wear for now.”
Bunchy raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have work clothes?”
“Not yet. This is my only set. I’m new to the capital, and I’m broke.”
“Fair enough. Let’s head out. It’s gonna be a tough day.”
“Thanks, Bunchy.” I adjusted my shirt, the smell of stale alcohol still clinging to it. Despite my embarrassment and regret, I couldn’t help but feel grateful. Bunchy and Sorey had my back, and that was something.
----------------------------------------
We reached out to the dusty mine, with Bunchy's truck. The road was long, but It feels good to look through the window and see how the streets disappear and become a zone work.
"Let's take the boxes of the jackhammer of the car. Can you carry both?".
I nodded confidently and picked up a box in each arm.
"Oh... Slimmy," he said with a chuckle, "you might be slim, but damn, you've got some serious strength!"
"Why?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Each box weighs almost 25 kilograms," he explained with a grin. "For me, it's easy, but I thought you'd be sticking your tongue out, struggling, just lifting one of these!"
We both laughed as I carried the boxes effortlessly, his admiration adding a playful edge to the moment.
As we reached the mining site entrance, I noticed Tenque, the boss, sitting on an old, creaky chair with a newspaper spread across his lap. Next to him, Sorey leaned against the wall, sipping from a steaming mug.
“Ey, look who it is! Slimmy and Bunchy!” Tenque called out with a grin that was too wide to be comforting.
“Good morning, boss. What’s in the news today?”
Tenque folded the newspaper and shook his head, his grin fading as it looked to Bunchy. “Something delicate. Yesterday, a couple of young idiots mistook one of our underground mines for a cave. They mucked around, caused a mess—explosions everywhere. Those little pricks ran off, leaving us to clean it up. We’re short on manpower for the earth mining operation now.”
“Ah, that’s rough,” Bunchy said, his voice taking on a rare seriousness. “Good thing it’s not here on the surface.”
“Yeah, for now.” Tenque’s eyes shifted to me, his expression sharpening.
“Putting that topic aside, you Slimmy. You know a guy named Josh?”
“Josh?” I echoed, caught off guard. “Yeah, he used to work under my dad’s supervision.”
Tenque squinted, his grin creeping back. “Your dad, huh? What’s your old man’s name?”
“Dorion Lustria.”
At that, Tenque burst into laughter, nearly doubling over. “Dorion Lustria? Oh, now it clicks! That explains your face, Slimmy. You’re the spitting image of that weak-ass punk!” His laughter grew louder, and Sorey joined in, smirking into his mug.
“Mr. Tenque, what’s so funny?” I asked, trying to keep my composure.
“Oh, your dad worked here before,” Tenque said between chuckles. “I was his boss. The guy didn’t even last a week!” He slapped his knee, tears forming in his eyes. “We called him ‘Sticky Draw’ because he was so scrawny, he couldn’t even lift a full load of tools without his hands shaking! Just like you, Slimmy.”
The others laughed, but my jaw tightened. I could feel the heat rising in my face. I didn't know my dad’s past, but hearing his name dragged through the mud somehow made my blood boil. Tenque’s laugh was like nails on a chalkboard.
“You got a problem, Slimmy?”
Leaning forward, his grin daring me to speak up. But before I could say anything, Bunchy stepped between us, his arm extended like a shield. “Don’t worry, boss. Slimmy’s not saying anything. He’s just glad you remember his old man, right, Slimmy?”
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. The words burned in my throat, but I forced them out. “Yes.”
Tenque leaned back in his chair, satisfied. “Good boy. You got that same fire as your dad, but let’s see if you can last longer than a week, eh? Sticky Draw Jr.!”
As they laughed again, I bit my tongue so hard it tasted like iron. Bunchy gave me a subtle pat on the back as we walked past them toward the locker rooms.
“Don’t take it to heart, Slimmy,” Bunchy said in a low voice. “The boss? He’s just testing you. Happens to all the rookies.”
“Then Slimmy, this Josh guy, he’s been referred to by your dad, so he’ll be coming in too.”
From his hand I can see a card. It was a magnetic card, but with my profile in it, an identification.
“This is your ID, don’t lose it, or I’ll charge you. Those things aren’t cheap, Slimmy.”
“Yeah, boss,” I muttered, gripping the card in my hand. I didn’t want to mess this up.
Bunchy and Sorey led me into the heart of the mining grounds. I couldn't help but stare around at the vast space before me—this place felt endless. The sound of heavy machinery, large mining trucks, and the shuffling of miners echoed across the area. There were more people here than I expected—grimy, hardened faces from a life of work. Everyone seemed busy, moving with purpose.
“Don’t lose focus, Slimmy. Be trucha my friend,” Sorey warned, his eyes scanning the area as he walked ahead. I wasn’t sure what trucha meant, but I nodded anyway.
“Ey, Bunchy, get the tools ready,” he called out. Bunchy gave him a thumbs-up and headed toward the tool station.
“What are you waiting for, Slimmy?” Sorey barked, his tone suddenly sharp. “Move! Help him out!”
I quickly scrambled to follow Bunchy. As we neared the station, I noticed a large, metallic box on the wall. Bunchy slid his ID card into a slot, and the door to the station opened. I did the same, following his lead. The receptionist at the desk barely glanced up as Bunchy started a conversation with her, quickly pointing out the tools we’d need for the day.
Within minutes, a worker came through with a big canvas bag, heavy with tools.
“You can carry this no problem, but remember, these are your company-issued tools. Don’t lose them, or you’ll pay for replacements,” Bunchy explained as he grabbed the bag.
He asked for the beginner kit for me. I was handed a small toolbox containing basic mining tools: a crowbar, a power drill, splitting wedges, wrench, and a helmet. My hands felt oddly small around them, and the weight of responsibility settled in.
“There are bigger tools—jackhammers, pneumatic drills—but those are up to you. You’ll have to buy your own,” Bunchy added. “For now, stick to the basics and get used to the weight. Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it soon.”
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The air was thick with dust, and I could see the silhouettes of other miners working tirelessly—some with shovels, some with heavy equipment. Everyone here seemed to have their own rhythm, their own unspoken understanding of the hard work they did.
“Bring your sorry asses here! Don’t let me do all the work!”
“I know, I know, Anything to not hear at the end of the week about your sore arms.”
“Why are we here, aren't we supposed to be in the underground, bunchy?”
“The dusty mine is almost over inside, the most work left is the surface, Slimmy. Now its time to work”
The heat of the sun was unforgiving, and I could feel sweat beginning to bead on my forehead as we trudged further into the mine’s work area. The machinery around us continued its incessant noise—metal clanging, engines roaring, and the sharp crack of tools striking rock. It was a chaotic symphony of labor.
We started with the crowbar.
“Ey, Slimmy! Grab that crowbar, would ya? See that chunk of rock wedged in there? Stick the flat end under it, then lean your weight on the handle. Don’t go all brute force—you wanna pry it loose, not break the bar or yourself. Yeah, just like that. Keep your feet steady—don’t wanna fall on your ass!” Sorey barked.
His voice was sharp, but I could tell he was trying to guide me. I nodded, doing as he said, trying to focus on the feel of the tool, the roughness of the stone, the pressure building as I shifted my weight. The rock didn’t budge at first, but with a grunt and a shift of my weight, I felt it give way.
“All the spots where you see silver mixed with black, do the same. And tell us when you’re done,” Bunchy added, his voice calm but authoritative. I glanced around. There must’ve been at least thirty other rocks to move—some smaller, some bigger, but all of them had to go.
The hours ticked by. I could feel my muscles protesting, my hands aching from the strain of the crowbar, but I pushed through. I wasn’t here to quit. I was here to prove something—not just to Bunchy or Sorey, but to myself.
It wasn’t as hard as I expected, but the task wasn’t over. Sorey shot me a look, his expression somewhere between annoyed and impressed.
“It’s not funny when the rookie’s so well trained,” he muttered under his breath.
Bunchy just chuckled, not even looking up from the jackhammer he was using to tear into the floor.
“Isn’t no wonder Tenque said he did construction,”
I felt a small surge of pride. Maybe I wasn’t as out of place here as I thought.
"Alright, Slimmy, time to work that shovel," Sorey called out. "See all that junk pile next to the bulldozer over there. That’s gonna clog it if we leave it there. Scoop it up, toss it in the dump pile over there. And don’t just stab at it like it’s your worst enemy—dig under the mess, then lift. Save your back, man; we ain't lookin' to carry you outta here today."
I grabbed the shovel, its weight familiar in my hands. In construction, shovels were like second nature to me. I didn’t have to think twice. My movements were quick, efficient—dig under the pile, lift, toss. I worked fast, not missing a beat.
The hours blurred together. It was hard work, but it was work I understood. The rhythm of the shovel, the way the pile slowly shrank—it gave me a sense of progress, of accomplishment.
By the time lunch came around, my stomach was growling. The thought of food was like a distant dream. But as I remembered I hadn’t brought any lunch with me—no money, no food—I felt a pang of embarrassment.
Bunchy looked over at me as he bit into his hamburger, pausing mid-chew.
“I have to admit, Slimmy, I judged wrong,” he said, his words muffled but sincere.
Sorey, holding a can of soda, glanced at me and smirked.
“Yeah, you’re no weak ass. Can’t say I expected you to keep up like that.”
Then Bunchy handed me a hamburger without a second thought.
“You owe me one,” his tone was light, but there was a flicker of camaraderie in his eyes.
I hesitated for a moment before taking it, the smell of the warm bread and beef hitting me all at once. I wasn’t sure what to say, but the fact that they were treating me like one of the group made my chest feel lighter.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling my face warm a little.
Bunchy and Sorey didn’t make a big deal of it. They went back to their own meals, the sound of chewing and sipping filling the air.
The day had been long, the sweat thick on my skin, but the exhaustion wasn’t as brutal as I’d expected. Maybe my body was starting to get used to the grind.
“Well, it’s time to call it a day. I’ll see you tomorrow, Sorey,” Bunchy said, feeling a weird mix of relief and accomplishment.
“And I’ll see your fat ass tomorrow,” Sorey shot back with his usual grin, earning a hearty laugh from Bunchy. I could feel the camaraderie growing stronger, even after just one day.
Bunchy turned to me with a shrug, “Slimmy, you can crash at my place for these next two weeks, ‘til you get that paycheck. Hope you don’t mind some mess though.”
“No problem,” I answered quickly, relieved not to have to worry about finding a place to stay.
I climbed into Bunchy’s car, the engine rumbling to life as he drove us out of the mining site.
“It seems like you’re settling into this pretty quick, Slimmy,” Bunchy said, glancing over at me with a grin.
“Yeah, it’s not as bad as I thought,” I admitted, the weight of the day's work still heavy on me but not unbearable. “How many years have you been working here?”
“Four years, same as Sorey,” Bunchy replied, shifting gears. “Don’t tell him, but the guy really struggled that first week. He looked like he was about to collapse every damn day. Me? I didn’t have it that bad. My big bones helped me last longer, you know? But he’ll never admit it,” he added with a chuckle, his eyes glinting mischievously.
The thought of Sorey struggling like that actually made me laugh a little. I was getting the sense that Bunchy wasn’t just a tough guy—he was the kind of guy who’d help you through the rough patches and make you laugh while doing it.
Bunchy didn’t eat anything, and neither did I for the rest of the night. I stayed hungry, but it wasn’t a big deal. I figured I’d eat tomorrow. Exhaustion hit hard, so I went to bed early that night, knowing the next day would be just as tough.
The next two days were the same routine but by the third day, things took an interesting turn.
"Bunches of fresh meat!" Tenque’s voice boomed, greeting the new recruits. "This is Josh, but his nickname's gonna be Crack because his bones make a crack when he moves, get it?" Tenque looked around, waiting for a laugh. But the joke fell flat.
“Just make sure his bones crack by the end of the week,” Tenque added with a falter smile, clearly not expecting much more than a grunt from anyone.
"Sure, boss." Bunchy agreed, keeping it casual as always.
“Get back to work!” Tenque dismissed us, and we moved out.
Josh, who I hadn’t expected to see here, turned to me, his expression full of surprise. "Daryn?"
“Yeah, it’s me.” I shrugged, trying not to show how much I was surprised too. I didn’t think I’d bump into Josh. His wide eyes told me he didn’t expect to see me here either.
Sorey was looking at Josh, who was obviously trying to get under his skin. "Bunchy, now we have two rookies. Crack and slimmy"
"What’s with all the nicknames?" Josh was a little thrown off by the teasing. "First, my name is Josh, not Crack." His voice was firm, no-nonsense. It was clear that he wasn’t interested in playing the name game.
Sorey didn’t back down, though. "If you don’t like it, talk to the boss."
The tension between them grew, but Bunchy stepped in with his usual laid-back attitude. "Listen, Josh, don’t take it too seriously. It's just how we roll."
Josh, still standing his ground, wasn’t having it. "Daryn, you should say something too. You let them call you weird nicknames?."
“I don’t mind. Everyone here has their own bad nickname “ I responded trying to sound neutral.
Josh wasn’t convinced, but Sorey was already giving him another shove, this time with his usual grin. "Well, Crack, today we’re working with the shovels. You’re used to construction, so go ahead and clean up those piles of dirt over there. Use the shovel and put it in the bags."
Bunchy, and Sorey took to power drills to make some holes. Bunchy turned to me. "Yo, Slimmy, bring that drill over here. We need a hole about two feet deep where I marked it with chalk. Hold it steady—no shaking like a leaf or you’ll screw it up. Press it into the rock and just squeeze the trigger nice and slow. Let the drill do the work. If it jams, stop and clear it. Got it?"
It was a simpler task than the shovels, physically speaking, but using the drill was new to me, so it was a challenge in its own right. Still, I gave it a try, making sure to follow Bunchy’s instructions carefully.
As I worked, I noticed Josh struggling with the shoveling, his body language telling me he wasn’t having the easiest time. "Why do I have to do all this while Daryn just gets the easy stuff?!" Josh’s frustration was clear in his voice.
Sorey, always quick with a sharp retort, didn’t let up. "Listen, we don’t care about your whimpering. You came here to work, then work."
Bunchy, who had been casually watching, couldn’t help but laugh at Sorey’s intensity. "Sorey, chill, don’t you ever get tired of bothering the rookies?"
Sorey grinned, never missing a beat. "Honestly? No."
The tension in the air thickened as Josh suddenly snapped, jumping over Sorey with a burst of anger. His fists flew, landing solid punches on Sorey, and the two of them rolled on the ground, fists and feet flying in a chaotic brawl. I could see Sorey’s larger frame and confidence, but Josh wasn’t backing down. There was something different about him—something deeper than just strength. I soon realized what it was.
Josh wasn’t just relying on his physicality. He tapped into something else—his magic. His hands moved swiftly, and with a simple gesture, he manipulated the shovel next to him. The tool floated momentarily before hurling toward Sorey, the sharp edge aimed at him like a projectile.
Bunchy rushed toward them, trying to break up the fight, but he too was knocked back by a stray swing of the shovel. It was like watching a storm of raw emotion and power clash, and I didn’t know how long it would take for it to stop.
“Stop, Josh!” I shouted, stepping between them. I knew it was dangerous, but I also knew that someone needed to intervene. Josh’s face was a mixture of rage and desperation, but he paused, his eyes meeting mine.
“I want to work, but I’m nobody’s bitch!” Josh growled, his hands clenched around the shovel handle, still ready to strike.
Sorey stood tall, a glare in his eyes as he prepared to tackle him. That’s when I made a decision—I couldn’t just stand by and let it escalate further.
I rushed at Josh, tackling him from the side. The force knocked him off balance, and he swung the shovel in a desperate attempt to knock me off. I ducked and dodged, slipping around the swings, using my momentum to shift the fight in my favor. With one swift punch, I caught Josh off guard, sending him sprawling to the ground, unconscious.
The scene went silent. Bunchy, who had been watching the whole time, was wide-eyed, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced with shock.
“Damn… Slimmy…” Bunchy muttered, clearly stunned by what had just happened. Even Sorey, who usually had something snarky to say, just stood frozen, his eyes wide in disbelief. It was as if I had just slayed a dragon right in front of them. “Sorey, you started this. You deal with him.”
Sorey, still caught up in the shock of the situation, nodded reluctantly, scooping Josh up onto his shoulder, making his way toward the infirmary.
“You good, Slimmy?” Bunchy asked, looking at me with a mix of concern and admiration. He could tell the tension had been broken, but the fight had been intense.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Bunchy nodded, his serious face giving way to a grin. “Alright, Slimmy, back to drilling. We’ve got holes to make.”
The rest of the day felt like a blur. Sorey and Josh were gone, and I kept my head down, focusing on the task at hand. Bunchy and I worked in relative silence, using the drills to make holes in the floor. The routine felt like it was slowly becoming second nature to me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over. Josh was a wildcard, and I could tell that whatever had sparked that outburst wouldn’t just disappear.
The rest of the week was the same.
“ Bunchy, sorey” Tenque called them from his chair spot.
“ About the earth mine, tomorrow we will start working there. They already gave us permission. So we have to work on that location”
“Alright boss as you wish” bunchy said
Bunchy explained me that the Earth Mine would be tougher, mainly because it meant going underground for the first time. The thought of descending into the depths unsettled me—dark, confined spaces where danger could lurk around any corner. He also mentioned how unusual it was to rotate between mines so quickly. Normally, miners had time to stay around a minimum of 3 months and an average of six months. But the incident yesterday had changed everything, forcing us to move faster, to plug the gaps where help was needed most.