The mining pickaxe hit the wasteland rock formations, sparks flying everywhere.
Panting heavily, I pulled the pickaxe out of the crack. The calluses on my palms were worn white, and blood oozed from the tiger's mouth. A few miners squatting in the shade and smoking nearby glanced at me, and their sneers could be clearly heard thirty meters away.
"Look at our Ye Da miner, how hard he works, it seems like he can really dig out treasures."
"I've been digging for three years, but I haven't even found a decent energy crystal. Waste is waste."
I said nothing and picked up the mining pickaxe again.
The rock formations cracked and debris rolled down. I wiped the sweat from my face and felt the smell of rust in my throat. The sun in the wasteland is so scorching that it seems to dry people out. The air is filled with the smell of sulfur and rot. The mountains of garbage in the distance are endless and endless.
The people next to me were still laughing.
"I told you, Ye Chen, stop doing this and go pick up rags in the garbage dump to the east. At least you won't starve to death."
"That's right, look at how blunt your pickaxe is. Not to mention mining, it's hard to crack walnuts."
I gripped the wooden handle of the mining pick tightly, my nails digging into my palm. When I first came to the mine three years ago, this group of people laughed at me like this. At that time, I thought that as long as I worked hard enough, I could always dig something out. But three years have passed, and the mine in the wasteland has been dug over and over hundreds of times, with not even a hair left.
I'm just an ant digging in a pile of rubbish.
