Villains Regret That I Transmigrated With Omnipotent System

I read my status window and then closed it. It was nothing fancy—just the generic kind. I sighed deeply.

"Now, let's get out of this damn cave," I said as I started walking towards the narrow beams of light coming from the left. Going a bit farther, I realized that it was actually a turn.

I took the turn and found another straight path; however, this one was brighter than before. Espel followed meekly behind me.

"You really don't know where this place is?" I asked her for the third time.

"No, sir. Even though I have roamed the whole world in my centuries of existence, I can't possibly recognize every single cave, now can I?"

"Did your masters not tell you where that river would send us?"

"No, sir. I wasn't provided with any such knowledge."

Hmm. Will this cat even be useful at this point? Who knows—maybe she was ordered to spy on me and is just putting on an act. Oh well, we'll see what happens.

As we walked further, noises echoed through the cave—loud metal clanking. Along with it came vibrations through the floor.

Oh, right. That system said this was a mine, didn't it? I mused, increasing my speed, eager to see what the people of this world looked like. Would they have more than two eyes? What about their skin color?

But when I finally turned the corner, my heart ached at the sight.

They looked exactly like humans. Frail and thin, some were even children. Their clothes were tattered, their skin covered in dirt. However, it was their faces that haunted me—a painful desperation mixed with fear and hopelessness. About thirty of them were there, ramming hammers against the cave walls. A few heads turned toward me, but they quickly looked away, as if afraid to pause their work even for a second.

"Hmmm… Hello?" I called out, but got no response.

"So it was like this… This must be the Blackstone Mines. Blackstones are precious items used to forge magical relics," Espel whispered in my ear, having already climbed onto my shoulders.

I didn't like what I saw at all. Wasn't this… oppression? How could these people be made to work in such conditions?

I walked past the miners, my eyes locking onto a little girl. She was so small that she couldn't lift a hammer. Instead, she was picking up stray rocks that had fallen to the ground and putting them in a bucket.

I took her by the arm, causing the rocks she was carrying to scatter on the ground.

"Stop," I told her, my voice hard. "You don't need to do this."

The girl panicked and pushed me away, her whole body trembling as she hurriedly picked up the rocks again, resuming her work.

"Why are you bothering us…? Just leave. Where did you even come from…?"

One of them spoke, though I couldn't tell who—it didn't even seem like they had bothered to turn my way.

I ignored the voice.

It was no use talking to them. They were too afraid of something—or someone. Perhaps the one forcing them to work. That's when I noticed it. All of them had black collars around their necks.

"Are they slaves?" I asked, slumping down against the wall. This wasn't what I thought the new world would be like. I had never read dark fantasy novels—only the generic wish-fulfillment ones, where you wake up in a beautiful woman's lap.

"It seems so. According to my knowledge, the Blackstone Mines fall under the Solstice Empire. However, I have no idea who the current overseer of this place is. I suggest we leave immediately, sir. The Solstice Empire isn't known for their welcoming nature. We may be mistaken as spies or thieves. Blackstones are precious, and no one enters here without permission."

I scoffed. Leave? Is that really the right thing to do? Isn't coming to another world all about saving people and becoming a hero?

"Is there magic in this world? How do I use it?" I inquired, wondering if I had a chance.

"Only members of the ten royal bloodlines can use magic. It's not for commoners. If you want to awaken your magic, you should have at least 0.1% royal blood in your veins. Also, you need a sufficient amount of mana crystals to break through and awaken your magic core."

"Meaning… I can't help them, can I?" I sighed, standing up. No use dwelling on it. If I wasn't given any magic or abilities, then I'm just a commoner—just like these people. I should focus on my own survival first.

"How do we get out of here? I'm sure a place this precious will have all the exits guarded."

What luck it was that my starting point itself was so troublesome. Couldn't I have emerged in a better place?

---

The two great stars were almost setting on the horizon. Derek sat on a lump of wooden logs, smoking his pipe. He was a middle-aged man dressed in thin metal armor, a sword at his waist. Beside him were his subordinates.

"Days are getting shorter, aren't they? Winter's here…"

"Indeed. However, the mining will go on no matter the weather—even if the slaves start falling like twigs."

"It's bothersome to dispose of their bodies, though. Especially in the snow."

The guards conversed, waiting for the slaves to finish their tasks. Several tents were pitched nearby, and a fire crackled in the center.

"I can't help but feel resentment. These Blackstones are ten times more valuable than gold, yet we're paid so little despite managing the whole mine ourselves."

"Haha, don't be greedy, boy. At least we're getting paid—unlike those slaves."

"You'd compare us to those lowly slaves now? We are free men! I feel insulted."

"Haha… Free men—only until the Mistress decides otherwise. To the royals, we're all the same. No matter what we do, the hierarchy is determined at birth."

"Such is life…"

Soon, footsteps and the clattering of buckets filled the air. One by one, the slaves began emerging from the cave, each carrying a bucket full of Blackstones. Their tools had been left behind.

"Finally, they're done. Come on over here and have your buckets checked. Then you'll finally be fed," Derek shouted as his subordinates cleared the way, making them line up.

One by one, the slaves presented their buckets. Derek weighed them, made a note on a piece of paper with a feather quill, and then sent them toward a tent where they would receive dried bread and water—their only meal for the entire day.

Everything proceeded normally. Until, finally, it was the turn of a boy.

His clothes were strange—unlike anything Derek had seen. His eyes were black, and his hair was short. His body was covered in black dust, but something was off—it looked as if someone had rubbed it on him rather than it accumulating from hard labor. Most notably, though, he was hunchbacked.

A lump protruded from his back, and he stood with his neck bent low.

Derek scoffed. He was sure there hadn't been a hunchbacked slave in this batch.

"Did you break your neck, fella? Is the work that tough?" He laughed. But his subordinates understood the hidden command. They surrounded the boy, their swords drawn.

The boy, however, didn't flinch. Instead, he smirked slightly.

"So it's you. The main guy…"

The next moment, the boy's "hump" moved.

Tearing through his shirt, a black, coal-colored cat leaped straight onto Derek's face, its forehead colliding with his.

Derek stumbled, trying to stand reflexively, but his foot slipped. He fell onto his back, his mouth open.

"Boss!"

Two of his subordinates charged forward to help him, while the others grabbed the boy, restraining him.

Derek's eyes flickered. Then, he stood up. The cat dashed away.

"I'm fine…" he muttered, shaking off his subordinates' hands. They were shocked by the sudden shift in his demeanor.

"Let that boy go," he ordered.