392: Chapter 379, No. 9527

Lin Feng said coldly, his eyes icy. "Although I'm new here, I wanted to keep a low profile and not cause trouble. But since you insist on giving me experience points, I have no choice."

"D-don't come over! This is the territory of the Black Fiend Gang! If you dare touch me, the Chief Steward won't let you off!" The overseer was terrified and slammed the red button on his waist.

"Woo—woo—woo—"

A harsh and urgent alarm sounded instantly throughout the Black Fiend Mining Area.

The red alarm lights flashed wildly in the dim Mining Pit No. 9.

"Enemy attack! There's a riot! There's a slave riot in Mining Pit No. 9! Requesting backup! Requesting backup!"

The overseer yelled, as if clinging to a straw.

Lin Feng stopped, looked up at the moving shadows around him and the powerful auras approaching from afar, a playful smile curling his lips.

"Calling for backup, are we?"

"Fine, I just happen to need a tour guide. Since you're here, I might as well experience the local customs."

Lin Feng simply found a clean rock, sat down with a flourish, and crossed his legs.

He had just arrived in this world. Although he could understand the language (the Grandmist Law came with a built-in translator), he didn't understand the distribution of forces or the rules here.

If he went on a killing spree now and slaughtered this mining area, it would feel good, but it would easily attract real experts. If he provoked some God King or God Emperor, he, a 'newbie' who had just completed his Ascension, would likely suffer.

Better to... play along.

Blend in first, figure out the situation, and see if he could snag some benefits. After all, cautious development and not being reckless was the way to go.

"Come on, let me see just how strong this Hongmeng Realm is." Lin Feng muttered to himself, his eyes flashing with excitement.

Black Fiend Mining Area, Mining Pit No. 9.

Within half a minute, over a dozen streams of light flew in like meteors from all directions, surrounding Lin Feng.

These people wore uniform black iron armor with a ferocious wolf head logo on their chests, wielding spears, sabers, and other weapons. Their auras were all stronger than the lizard-headed overseer from before, mostly at the 'Divine Being Realm' (equivalent to the Peak Quasi-Saint or even Half-Step Saint of the Primordial Era).

Leading them was a bald giant, two and a half meters tall, with a fleshy face. He was shirtless, revealing bronze muscles as hard as rock, with a door-sized ghost-head saber on his back.

This person's aura had reached the 'Divine Soldier Realm' (equivalent to the Heavenly Dao Saint level of the Primordial Era).

This was the steward of Mining Pit No. 9, Wang Meng, known as "The Butcher."

"What's going on? Who's causing trouble? Are you tired of living?!"

Wang Meng landed, leaving two deep footprints in the ground. His gaze, cold as a viper, swept across the scene before fixing on Lin Feng, who was sitting on a rock.

The lizard-headed overseer with the broken hand scrambled over, snot and tears running down his face as he wailed, "Chief Steward! Help! It's this guy! He fell from the sky; he's a Body Cultivator! He shattered my Spirit-Shattering Whip with his face! He even crippled my hand!"

"Fell from the sky?"

Wang Meng narrowed his eyes, sizing Lin Feng up.

Soft skin, tender flesh, looked under twenty, with not a trace of spiritual energy fluctuation (Lin Feng had locked his aura with the System, so to outsiders, he looked like a Mortal), and the clothes he wore were of some strange fabric (T-shirt and jeans).

"Hmph, probably just some unlucky guy caught in a spatial turbulence," Wang Meng judged. "Or some naive kid who just completed his Ascension from the Lower Realm, didn't know the rules, and got dumped here without paying the protection fee."

In the Hongmeng Realm, if an ascender from the Lower Realm didn't have a major power to welcome them or couldn't afford the exorbitant "entry tax," they would be sold directly to mining areas as slaves. This was too common. Besides, ascenders often had good talent; their Physical Body tempered by the Lightning Tribulation was durable and made the best consumables.

"Kid, state your name." Wang Meng drew the ghost-head saber from his back, the tip pointing straight at Lin Feng's glabella, filled with Killing Intent.

Lin Feng was currently fully analyzing the world's language pack and basic Law, countless data streams running wildly in his mind.

[Language pack analysis progress: 99%... 100%. Loading complete.]

[Social structure analysis: Slave-based mining area where the weak are prey to the strong.]

[Current strategy recommendation: Feign weakness, infiltrate, gather intelligence, seek resources.]

Hearing Wang Meng's question, Lin Feng immediately went into acting mode. He put on a terrified, cowardly look, raised his hands, and even trembled a bit for effect.

"Big brother! Big brother, don't kill me! I... I'm just passing by! I accidentally got lost!"

If this performance of Lin Feng's were on Earth, he would definitely win an Oscar. That panic of a fledgling was acted out vividly.

Seeing this, the vigilance in Wang Meng's eyes dissipated quite a bit. Looks like he was a coward. Shattering the whip earlier was probably because he had some protective Magic Treasure given by an elder, or some passively triggered secret technique.

"Passing by? Once you enter the Black Fiend Mining Area, you're a ghost of the Black Fiend Gang!"

Wang Meng sneered and waved his large hand, "No matter who you are, since you're here, you have to work for me! The death row squad just lost a few people, and we're short-handed. Men, put the 'Spirit-Suppressing Shackles' on him and draft him into the death row squad!"

"Yes!"

Two guards at the Divine Being realm walked over with a grin, holding a pair of heavy, pitch-black shackles flowing with blood-red runes.

These "Spirit-Suppressing Shackles" were forged from deep-sea ten-thousand-year cold iron and engraved with high-level Seal runes. Once put on, they would continuously drain the wearer's spiritual energy through the Meridians of the wrists like a leech, making the person weak and powerless, able only to maintain the basic physical strength to work, unable to even commit suicide.

This was an instrument of torture specifically used to deal with rebellious slaves or prisoners of war.

Lin Feng looked at the shackles, a flash of light that was hard to detect passing through his eyes.

He did not resist, letting the guards lock the cold, heavy shackles onto his wrists.

"Click!"

The sound of the spring lock locking echoed.

Immediately after, the blood-red runes on the shackles lit up with red light, and a powerful suction force came, attempting to forcibly drain the power within Lin Feng's body.

"Heh, once you enter the death row squad, don't think about getting out alive," Wang Meng sneered. "These shackles will make you wish you were dead; work the mines obediently, and maybe you'll live a few more days."

However, he did not see a pained or twisted expression on Lin Feng's face.

On the contrary, Lin Feng felt... comfortable? It was as if someone was giving his wrists a warm massage.

"These shackles... why do they feel like a power bank?"