Caesar still shuttled silently in the mine, like an unobtrusive shadow. Every day, he assigned some simple tasks to the miners, which seemed to be random instructions, such as picking up a stone, picking up a stick, moving a pile of coal, or just checking the veins in a certain area. The content of the task was indeed unimportant. What was really important was that the miners began to get used to this casual order and the small rewards they received from Caesar. A more relaxed work distribution, extra food, and even some herbs occasionally could relieve their fatigue. Caesar never talked much. After each task was completed, he simply smiled or nodded without explaining anything. All his actions naturally established a tacit understanding.
One day, Caesar stood in a dark corner, holding a long iron rod in his hand, gently knocking on the stone wall, making a hollow echo. A nearby miner came over, with a tired face, shabby clothes, and scars on his hands. "Caesar, what do you want me to do?" he asked, with a hint of expectation and hesitation in his tone. The miner was used to the instructions given by Caesar. Although these tasks seemed meaningless, he could always get some benefits from Caesar after completing them. Caesar turned his head and looked at him, his eyes calm and steady, "Go to the east side to check the stones and move a few big ones." After he finished speaking, he lowered his head and continued to knock on the stone wall.
The miner nodded. Although he still felt a little confused, he knew that his life would be a little easier if he completed the tasks assigned by Caesar. So he stopped asking and turned to carry out the task. Caesar's eyes were still fixed on the stone wall. He did not directly participate in it, but silently observed and waited for the results of the task.
Under Caesar's arrangement, the miners gradually began to trust him. Every task seemed to invisibly enhance their sense of dependence, although no one knew how Caesar did it. They only knew that Caesar seemed to be able to make everything different. Food, rest, and sometimes even some simple herbs were all provided by Caesar. The miners did not doubt too much. After all, in this silent and dark world, any change is an expectation.
However, Caesar did not stop his plan. He not only established this delicate relationship with the miners, but also quietly obtained gold and minerals from every corner of the mine. He knew that these ores and gold were the source of wealth for the slave owners, and what he had to do was to gradually accumulate enough power to prepare for future resistance and liberation. Caesar's actions were carried out in the dead of night. His power enabled him to quietly shuttle through every corner of the mine, taking away the gold and minerals that were extremely precious to ordinary miners without anyone noticing.
Rumors about Caesar gradually spread in the mine. Some miners began to discuss him privately, no longer just seeing him as an ordinary miner, but as a "boss" who could bring hope. Caesar's majesty and calmness made these struggling miners feel awe, and at the same time began to feel dependent. Whenever they completed their tasks, Caesar always gave them appropriate rewards, such as more food, less labor for a day, or even occasional words of comfort, as if Caesar was the only one who could bring light in this dark world.
"Caesar, he can make us live better." A miner whispered to the person next to him, with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Another miner nodded and responded in a low voice: "He is different. At least he didn't beat us like those supervisors. He is indeed a different person." The two men didn't know the real purpose behind Caesar. They just simply felt that Caesar was much better than those cruel supervisors.
Caesar sat in a dark corner, with his back against the cold and rough stone wall, playing with a small piece of dull ore in his hands. The mine was filled with a thick smell of moisture and corruption. The sound of footsteps, the knocking of iron picks and the scolding of supervisors intertwined to form a depressing symphony. His eyes calmly swept over the busy figures around him, and everyone's movements revealed fatigue and numbness. Rough hands, bent backs, and despair in their panting, as if these people had already become part of the mine and integrated into this dark land.
Not far away, a middle-aged miner was kneeling on the ground, rolling a huge stone to the side with difficulty. His finger joints were swollen and full of cracks, and blood and soil mixed into a dark red dirt. He panted like a bellows on the verge of being scrapped, but even so, he still gritted his teeth and persisted under the watchful eyes of the supervisor. Caesar's eyes stayed on him for a moment, and then moved to another direction. There, a young child was squatting on the ground, digging ore with a rusty shovel. His face was covered with dust, and sweat dripped down his cheeks, wetting his already tattered clothes. Despite this, there was still a trace of stubbornness and unwillingness in his eyes
Caesar stood up, his movements were slow but revealed a certain invisible sense of oppression. He walked straight to the child and handed the ore in his hand. The child looked up at him, his eyes full of vigilance and doubt, but he still took the ore. Caesar whispered, "Take it back and give it to the supervisor. They won't make things difficult for you." The child was stunned for a moment, then nodded, whispered his thanks and left quickly. Caesar watched his thin back disappear into the depths of the mine, with a cold light flashing in his eyes.
All this was part of the plan. Caesar knew that everyone in the mine was completely crushed by the slave owners and supervisors. Their will had long been destroyed, and what was left was just a numb shell. If you want them to resist, you must first make them believe again that life can change. So, he used the simplest but most effective way to establish a subtle dependence relationship. Whether it was children, the elderly or the most oppressed miners, they began to get used to obeying Caesar's arrangements and getting a little benefit from him. Some people even began to call him "Boss Caesar" in their hearts.
In the distance, the supervisor's voice suddenly sounded, mixed with the sharp whipping sound and heart-wrenching screams. Caesar looked in the direction of the sound and saw an elderly miner lying on the ground, his hands tightly protecting his head, with some ore fragments scattered around him. His body curled up in pain, his back was bloody, and his clothes had long been whipped to pieces. The supervisor waved the whip and cursed viciously: "Lazy waste! Do you think you can rest here? Get up and keep working!"
The miners around lowered their heads, no one dared to step forward, and no one even dared to look at them. Their expressions were numb, as if this scene was a daily routine in the mine. Caesar turned his head slowly, without showing any emotion, but whispered to a miner beside him: "Go help him pick up the ore." The man was stunned for a moment, then nodded and walked over quickly.
At night, the mine became quiet, with only the occasional sound of dripping water and wind echoing. Caesar sat down in a hidden corner, holding a few pieces of gold ore that he had just "conveniently" taken from the supervisor's warehouse. He gently stroked the cold surface, feeling the purity contained in it, and was satisfied.
The next day, Caesar stood quietly in a shadow deep in the mine, his eyes penetrating those seemingly lifeless faces. His eyes finally fell on a sturdy middle-aged miner, who had dark skin and cracked fingers that clenched a rusty shovel like a pair of pliers. He was obviously an old hand at manual labor. Caesar called him in a low voice, with an unquestionable power: "Come with me tonight." The man was slightly startled, then nodded, with a little vigilance in his eyes, but he didn't ask any more questions.
Late at night, the mine was silent, with only the sound of dripping water and the occasional sound of wind passing through the tunnel, making a faint low hum. Caesar led the miner and another smaller but agile young man to a hidden corner. They bent over and lowered their heads to drill through a pile of rocks until they reached the end of an almost abandoned passage. Caesar stood still and gently pointed to the ground with his hand: "Start from here and dig down. Move gently and don't make too much noise."
The two miners looked at each other. Although they didn't understand Caesar's intention, they still started to work as he said. They used shovels to loosen the rocks on the ground bit by bit, and sweat soon soaked the rags on their backs. Caesar stood aside, watching their movements calmly, and occasionally reached out to adjust the direction of digging to ensure that the shape of the hole was hidden and practical enough.
Not far away, several young children and two elderly miners were responsible for keeping watch. They sat behind a larger rock and vigilantly observed the movement of the passage. A child couldn't help but whisper to the old man beside him: "What does Brother Caesar want to do? There is no ore here." The old man frowned and whispered: "Don't ask nonsense, just do your job." Despite this, there was a hint of confusion and worry in his eyes.
The excavation lasted for nearly two hours. When the depth of the cave was enough for an adult to stand upright, Caesar raised his hand to signal the two to stop. He squatted down and carefully examined the excavated cave structure, then took out some branches and cloth from the cloth bag behind him, and carefully disguised the cave entrance to blend in with the surrounding environment. He looked back at the two miners who were sweating profusely, and said in a low and firm voice: "Remember, come at three o'clock every night and keep digging deeper. Don't ask why, just do it. You will get enough food and less workload."
The sturdy miner panted, wiped the sweat on his face with his sleeve, and couldn't help asking: "This hole...what is it dug for?" Caesar just glanced at him lightly, and there was an unfathomable power in his eyes, which made him shut up immediately.
Back to the person who was on guard, Caesar squatted down and gently patted a little boy on the shoulder. The child raised his head a little nervously, and when he saw Caesar handing him a small piece of bread, his eyes showed incredible surprise. Caesar whispered: "Good job, keep vigilant." The child nodded, took the bread carefully, and took a bite while watching Caesar's back disappear into the darkness.
After repeating this kind of night several times, the miners in charge of digging gradually adapted to this secret operation, and they even began to have an almost instinctive obedience to Caesar's arrangement. The children and the elderly who were responsible for keeping watch also gradually established a tacit understanding. Whenever there were strange footsteps approaching, they would quickly send out a secret signal to remind the diggers to stop immediately and cover up the traces. The depth of the cave was also steadily increasing, gradually becoming a secret passage that could accommodate three people passing side by side.
One night, a young child quietly asked Caesar: "If we keep digging, will we dig out the outside world?" His voice was filled with a naive expectation, but also mixed with a bit of uneasiness. Caesar lowered his head and looked at him, his tone calm but full of power: "Yes, as long as we persist, we will definitely find a way out." The child nodded, not quite understanding, and a faint smile appeared on his face.
At the same time, Caesar did not relax his secret control over the resources of the mine. He is using micro-wormholes to collect gold and precious ores from every corner of the mine little by little and hide them in secret places.
As time goes by, nighttime activities gradually become a kind of secret law in the lives of miners. Every time the miners who dig tunnels return to their small, damp resting corners, although they are covered in mud and their arms are so sore that they can hardly lift them, they have an indescribable sense of expectation in their hearts. The rewards they get from Caesar have never been missed. Whether it is a little more food than usual, a little less labor, or even just a brief absence of the indifferent supervisor's eyes, these small changes are gradually eroding their numbness and obedience to the status quo.
Late at night, the cave is still dull and dark, and the air is mixed with the smell of sweat, rust and stone powder. A sturdy middle-aged miner raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead and inserted the shovel into the soil. He panted and looked back at the young miner beside him: "Is it deep enough tonight?" His voice was very low, as if he was afraid of disturbing some sleeping beast. The young man nodded and whispered in agreement: "Just dig a little more. Caesar said that the hole we dig today needs to be deep enough to hide at least two carts." As he spoke, he continued to swing the shovel in his hand, his movements were slow but powerful, and each one seemed to be full of determination.
Outside the cave, several old men and children who were responsible for keeping watch leaned against the rock wall, maintaining a tacit silence with each other. Occasionally, there were slight footsteps, and the children immediately pricked up their ears like frightened rabbits, and then they were relieved when they confirmed that it was a false alarm. One of the little girls quietly approached an elderly man and whispered: "Grandpa, can we really escape?" The old man was silent for a moment, reached out and rubbed her head, his voice hoarse and slow: "Maybe... As long as we are alive, there is always a chance." His palms were rough, like cracked old bark, but the movement on the girl's head was unusually gentle.
On the other side, Caesar stood in the shadows in the distance, looking through the dim tunnel, watching the busy figures in front of him. His expression was still calm, even a little indifferent, but a trace of deep thought flashed through his eyes. He knew that he was reshaping the will of these people little by little, making them no longer tools of slavery, but individuals with the power of resistance. He was not in a hurry to light an open fire, because he understood that true rebellion was never an impulsive act, but a patient layout hidden in countless details.
After midnight, the miners quietly left the excavated tunnel and carefully covered the entrance. Their movements became more and more skilled, and every step seemed to be completing some kind of sacred ritual. Caesar walked at the end of the team, holding a small cloth bag in his hand, which contained some gold fragments collected from the corner of the mine, which was a pleasant surprise.
After returning to the rest area, Caesar hid the cloth bag in a hidden crevice, then leaned against a rock wall, closed his eyes and thought for a moment. The faces of the supervisors and slave owners emerged in his mind, those indifferent expressions who were accustomed to violence and exploitation. His fists clenched slightly, and his knuckles turned white because of the force. The rules of this place need to be broken, no matter what the cost.
At the same time, several children quietly approached Caesar, with a little fear in their eyes, but more curiosity and dependence. One of the older boys whispered: "Brother Caesar, when we were out for a walk today, we saw a supervisor carrying a lot of wood and ropes to the corner... Do you think they are going to do something bad?" Caesar opened his eyes, glanced at him deeply, and said in a low and calm voice: "Don't make a fuss, I will deal with it." The children nodded. Although they didn't understand how Caesar would deal with it, their trust in him was deeply rooted, and they didn't even have the idea of questioning.
The dependence of these children and the tacit understanding of those adult miners are invisibly pushing Caesar to an unspeakable position. He doesn't need to say it clearly or publicly announce it. Everyone has begun to silently regard him as a leader. And Caesar knows that this trust is both a strength and a shackle. He can't fail, because once he fails, everyone's hope will collapse.
After a few weeks, the atmosphere in the mine began to change. Caesar's presence was like a stone quietly thrown into deep water, and the ripples had already touched everyone. The miners, who were originally scattered and struggling for survival, gradually formed a tacit understanding. They talked in low voices while working, exchanging Information, his eyes occasionally glanced at the always calm figure, but Caesar did not respond to it. He just suddenly one day, holding a cloth bag full of food in his hand, distributed the food to everyone expressionlessly, men, women, young and old, more than 100 people, all had a share.
The food that the elderly usually got was easy-to-chew bread or soft potatoes. Although the quantity was not much, it was enough for them to survive the day. The adults got relatively rough dry food, hard bread blocks, a small amount of bacon or a handful of wheat grains, just the right amount, enough to support a day of heavy work. As for the children, they were mostly given some simple fruits or porridge. They always took the food carefully, showing a brief joy on their faces, and then quickly lowered their heads to avoid the eyes of the supervisor.
"Age is the only criterion." This was the first time Caesar clearly conveyed the message, and his tone was unquestionable. His voice was as calm as if he was stating a natural law, without explanation or extra words. No one dared to question the fairness of his distribution, because everyone, young and old, felt Caesar's precise control of every detail. His calculations seemed to surpass human intuition, as if he had included everyone's physical strength, needs and weight into a complex equation.
When distributing food, his movements were always neat and quiet. He held the cloth bag with one hand and quickly handed the food to everyone with the other hand. Occasionally, a timid child's hands trembled so much that the food fell on the ground. Caesar would immediately bend down to pick it up and hand it back to them. There was no blame or pity in his eyes, just a calm concern. This silent consideration makes people feel awe.
Once, an old man hesitated to take his share of potatoes and looked up at Caesar: "Why do you help us like this? What can we do to repay you?" His voice was weak and hoarse, and his confidence had obviously been worn away by years of oppression. Caesar paused, lowered his head slightly and looked at the old man, his eyes seemed to penetrate his old face and reach deep into his heart: "Eat it, live on." He only said these six words, then turned around to continue distributing food, leaving the old man standing there in a daze, his hand holding the potato trembling slightly.
There were also some adults who had doubts about Caesar's actions. They whispered behind his back and tried to guess Caesar's intentions. However, this doubt was quickly suppressed by his actions. Caesar never wasted a word, but his plan was always in order. He began to let some trusted people place secret codes in different areas, or gather at certain times for brief exchanges. Every time they gathered, he would assign simple tasks to these people, such as observing the patrol patterns of the supervisors, or recording the distribution of resources in certain areas. These tasks seemed trivial, but gradually made everyone realize that they had formed a system invisibly.
The children were arranged to do the easiest work on the periphery, such as collecting fragments of sticks or gravel. Sometimes they would gather together quietly and discuss in a low voice how Caesar distributed food. Some children even said in an admiring tone: "Uncle Caesar is so great. He knows what each of us needs." These innocent words were occasionally heard by adults passing by, and their expressions were complicated, as if they were ashamed of their hesitation.
At night, Caesar would walk alone deep into the mine to check the secretly excavated tunnels. Every time, he could feel the unfathomable silence behind the rock wall, as if the entire mine was waiting for some kind of change that was about to break out. His fingers occasionally touched the cave wall lightly, feeling the cold and rough texture. In his mind, he was calculating how to use each resource and the best allocation position for each person. He understood that these details were the key to their ultimate success.
At the same time, a subtle atmosphere gradually formed in the mine. The supervisors seemed to have noticed some changes, but they could not find any evidence. They began to become more vigilant, patrolling more frequently and punishing more severely. However, Caesar's organization was like a vine rooted in the dark. The more it was oppressed, the more secretive and tenacious it grew.
And deep in the mine, the hidden tunnels gradually extended to the unknown abyss. Every day, there were always two strong adults who took turns to take over this heavy task. They were chosen by Caesar not only because they had enough physical strength to support long-term labor, but also because their trust in him was deeply rooted in their hearts. As night fell, all movements became extra cautious, steps were lightened, and breathing was kept as low as possible, like a group of hunters trying to avoid wild beasts. The air in the mine was filled with the smell of dampness and decay, accompanied by the faint sound of dripping water, making every second seem extremely long.
The first person to enter the cave was Roman, a burly middle-aged man with rough skin from years of working in the mine. He whispered to Arthur behind him: "Remember not to use too much force, otherwise the sound of the tool hitting the rock wall will be too loud." Arthur nodded, his face hidden in the dim light, his expression could not be seen, but his hands were already tightly holding the shovel. They skillfully used the tools in their hands to lift the camouflage cloth at the entrance of the cave, and after checking the surrounding environment, they entered.
The damp and cold touch of the rock wall was transmitted to the depths of the bone marrow through the palm. Roman took the lead in digging with a shovel. Every time he exerted force, there was a muffled sound, and the soil and gravel were piled up next to him bit by bit. Arthur was responsible for putting the gravel into the prepared cloth bags, and when they piled up to a certain amount, he would transport them to a hidden place outside the cave and throw them away. The whole process was like some kind of unspoken ritual, and everyone knew it tacitly and maintained a wonderful tacit understanding.
"Where do you think this hole should be dug to?" Arthur wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked in a low voice after filling the cloth bag once. Roman did not stop his actions, but said in a muffled voice: "I guess others have asked this question, but since Caesar didn't say it, he must have his plans. Let's just dig, don't ask so many questions." His tone was full of unquestionable firmness, which was an absolute trust in the only remaining hope after experiencing countless despair.
Arthur did not ask again, but his eyes fell on Roman's calloused hands. Those hands became rough due to years of labor, but at this moment they still held the shovel steadily, with smooth and powerful movements. Arthur knew in his heart that no matter what the end of the hole was, they had no choice.
The two took turns digging and carrying to ensure that they had enough physical strength to work all night. They did not have any extra words to communicate, only the sound of tools hitting rocks and the occasional low gasp. Every once in a while, Arthur would stop and use a torch to check if there was anything wrong with the tunnel he had dug. When the light of the fire swept across the newly dug tunnel, he saw water droplets seeping out of the rock wall, reflecting a cold glow under the light.
"The soil here is soft, be careful not to dig too deep." Arthur reminded in a low voice. Roman nodded, adjusted the angle of the shovel, and continued to shovel the soil carefully. Every shovel of soil was carefully checked to ensure that no traces were left. Even in this situation, they could not ignore safety. A landslide was enough to ruin the entire plan, and their lives would also be buried here.
As the night deepened, the patrols outside the mine gradually became sparse. The children and old people responsible for keeping watch were distributed in various hidden spots at the entrance of the cave, and everyone listened attentively to the movements around them. An elderly man squatted behind a rock, holding a rough stone in his hand, staring sharply into the distance. His hands trembled slightly because of his old age, but his expression remained unwavering. A child next to him gently tugged at his sleeve and whispered, "How long will they take?" The old man shook his head and whispered, "Don't worry, wait until they come out. Remember, don't make trouble."
After an unknown amount of time, footsteps finally came from the tunnel. Roman and Arthur came out of the cave one after another, their faces full of fatigue, but their movements were still quick and orderly. They covered the cave entrance with hay and camouflage cloth, hid the tools in the designated place, and then evacuated quickly. Everyone cooperated perfectly, as if this had been done countless times before.
When they returned to the public area of the mine, the night was already terrifyingly deep, with only a few scattered candles still swaying slightly. Caesar stood quietly in the corner, as if he had known they would come. He didn't speak, but just glanced at the two of them, confirmed their status, and nodded. Roman and Arthur bowed their heads and left quietly.
Caesar looked at their receding backs, his eyes revealing a trace of deep thought. His fingers gently touched the cloth bag on his waist, which contained the gold and minerals he had collected from all over the mine.
Soon, after a while, Emma squatted in a corner of the mine, tightly holding a piece of polished stone in her hand, her eyes fixed on the shadow of the patrolling supervisor in the distance. Her ears trembled slightly, like a sensitive little animal, catching every subtle sound. Lor, who was beside him, leaned against the wall, his hands in his worn pockets, and muttered softly: "Why is it so long today?" There was some impatience in his tone, but more of nervousness. He didn't dare to be distracted, because he knew that any mistake would expose their secrets, and the consequences would be disastrous.
"Don't make noise." Emma interrupted him in a low voice, but her eyes didn't move away. Lor pouted his lips, but still closed his mouth. His hand was restlessly holding a piece of rough ore in his pocket. It was given to him by Caesar, who said that if something went wrong, he would throw it out to make some noise to attract the attention of the supervisor.
After a long time, the patrolling supervisor finally turned and left. Emma breathed a sigh of relief, stood up, and waved to Lor: "Let's go and inform the people inside that they can come out." Lor nodded, and the two carefully passed through the dark passage and came to the hidden digging point. The entrance of the cave was covered with a thick layer of cloth, and there were messy stones piled around it, looking like an abandoned corner.
"It's us, safe." Emma whispered. There was a slight noise behind the cloth, and then Roman and Arthur came out from inside, their faces covered with sweat and dust. Their clothes were almost soaked with moisture, sticking to their bodies, and exuding a mixed smell of mud and sweat.
"How did you progress today?" Emma asked with a hint of urgency in her tone. Roman took a breath, patted the dust off his shoulders, and said, "We have dug about two meters. In another week, we should be able to reach the planned depth." Arthur did not speak, but just gestured the length of the tunnel with his hands, indicating that everything was going according to plan.
"Very good." Emma nodded, and then handed each of them a piece of dry black bread and a pot of water. Lor wrinkled his nose on the side: "Is this thing still edible?" His words attracted Arthur's cold eyes: "It's good enough to be edible, don't be picky." Lor curled his lips and said no more.
After returning to the main area of the mine, Caesar was already waiting for them there. He stood in a dim corner. His eyes swept over everyone, as if silently confirming whether they were safe. After Emma and Lor briefly reported the situation, Caesar nodded and said, "Very good, take a rest." His voice was low and calm.
A few days later, Caesar picked out ten people from the crowd. Most of them were the strongest adults in the mine, with rich mining experience, and they also showed enough loyalty to Caesar. There was not much talk in the selection process. Caesar just walked up to those people one by one and stared at them until they nodded.
That night, Caesar convened a small meeting with these ten people. The location was in a hidden corner of the mine, with a few simple candles made of waste grease lit around, and the faint light reflected on everyone's nervous face. Caesar stood in front of them, his hands crossed on his chest, his back against the stone wall, his eyes calm and deep. He said: "I chose you because I believe you can complete this task. But I want to remind you that this is not an ordinary job. As long as you are willing to do it, you will definitely have enough food, but if anyone leaks it, everyone will die."
He swept his eyes over the crowd. There was a repressive atmosphere in the air, and no one dared to make a sound. Caesar paused, then continued: "The matter of this mine must not be disclosed to outsiders. Remember, this is our way of survival. If someone destroys it, it will destroy the future of all of us."
A young man plucked up the courage to ask: "Caesar, how did you do it? Why do we have food now? Why didn't the supervisor find it?" His voice was full of doubts, but more of a kind of faint awe.
Caesar did not answer directly, but said slowly: "There are some things you don't need to know too much. You just need to understand that I will let you live. And what you have to do is to follow my arrangements and keep our secrets.
The people who heard this stopped talking, just lowered their heads, as if thinking about something.
The next day, the sound of digging deep in the cave was like a rhythm, monotonous but with a sense of oppression. Pierce wiped the sweat from his forehead. His fingers had long been numb, and the strength of holding the shovel was getting weaker and weaker, but he still didn't dare to stop. His partner Huck seemed even more silent. His sturdy arms inserted the shovel into the hard rock again and again, and his movements were mechanical and precise, like a silent machine. Pierce couldn't help but say: "What do you think Caesar is thinking? Can digging this thing take us out? Although I don't know how far it is outside, it's impossible to dig it out, right?"
Huck stopped and looked up at him, his eyes were tired and a little impatient: "If you don't dig, what are you going to do? Go back and wait to be starved to death or beaten to death? "
Pierce opened his mouth, but said nothing. His arm muscles were so sore that they were about to explode. Every time he swung the shovel, it was like fighting with his body. Caesar's calm eyes appeared in his mind. The man's words always carried an irresistible force. No matter how many questions he had in his heart, he could not refute them. He gritted his teeth, suppressed all his doubts, and continued to dig.
Outside the cover of the cave entrance, Emma knelt on the ground, holding a small piece of stone in her hand, constantly carving something on it with her nails. Her movements were very meticulous, even with an incomprehensible concentration. Lor squatted beside her and complained in a low voice: "It's too boring to take a walk. Who would run to such a place in the middle of the night? Caesar is really worried."
Emma didn't look up, but just snorted softly: "It's better to be worried. If we don't make any mistakes, he can also rest assured. "Lor rolled his eyes: "You always speak for him. Aren't you afraid that he will ask you to do something more dangerous one day?" Emma raised her head and looked straight at Lor, her tone calm but unquestionable: "If you can survive, what's the danger? Do you think we are safe now?"
Lor felt guilty when she stared at him, and couldn't help turning his eyes away. He picked up a slender branch from the ground and scribbled on the ground, muttering: "I just think he is too mysterious? He doesn't even want to tell us what he is doing." Emma sighed softly: "He doesn't say it because he is afraid that we know too much and it will cause problems. Don't you think that everything he does is to keep us alive?" Lor didn't answer, but lowered his head and continued to draw circles on the ground with the branch.
On the other side, Caesar stood deep in the cave, his fingers gently touching the lines on the wall. His fingertips were slightly warm, which was the result of his use of force to detect the structure of the mineral layer. His eyes were calm and focused, It seemed that all the details were beyond his control. He could feel the veins of gold, and the wealth hidden deep in the rocks was part of his plan. He slowly closed his eyes, and the whole picture of the mine emerged in his mind. Every passage and every corner was like a complex map. He needed more time, but time was obviously what they lacked the most.
"Caesar." A low call came from behind, it was Roman's voice. He didn't look back, but just asked faintly: "How is the digging going?" Roman's voice was a little hesitant: "It's still going on, but Pierce can't hold on a bit. I see his condition... maybe we need to change people." Caesar nodded slowly, his voice so calm that no emotion could be heard: "Let him rest, replace Sever. Remember, don't stop." Roman was silent for a moment, and whispered: "Understood."
When Roman left, Caesar's eyes fell on the ground, which was an inconspicuous rock with an uneven surface. He slowly squatted down, pressed his palm on the rock, and closed his eyes. A faint vibration came from his palm, as if some power was slowly penetrating the rock. He could feel that there was a secret passage under the rock, but it was buried by thick rock layers. A slight smile rose from the corner of his mouth, which was very shallow, but it carried an indescribable meaning.
When Caesar returned to the center of the cave again, the ten selected people had gathered together. They were tired on their faces, but no one complained. Caesar's eyes swept over them, and his tone was low but with unquestionable power: "You did a good job. Remember, as long as we are not discovered, there is hope. Digging a hole is not for today, but for all of us tomorrow." His voice was like a piece of cold iron, and every word hit everyone's heart.
Sif raised his head and asked in a low voice: "Caesar, can we really escape?" Caesar's eyes stayed on him, and his voice was still calm: "Whether we can escape or not does not depend on how much hope there is, but on how persistent we are." His eyes were like the abyss, which made people unable to see through, but also irresistible. Sif nodded, although his face was still tired, but there was a hint of tenacity in his eyes.
Soon everyone returned to their respective positions to work. John and Mark were taking turns digging. John's naked upper body was covered with sweat, and his skin was rough due to long-term labor. The joints of his hands holding the shovel had cracked, and tiny traces of blood and sweat mixed together to form mottled marks. He gritted his teeth and tried to focus on the work at hand, but the constant pain made him unable to help shaking his arms from time to time.
Mark was silent, and the shovel pierced into the rock again and again. His movements were regular and precise, as if he had merged with the tool in his hand. Although both of them were almost out of breath due to exhaustion, no one suggested stopping. There was a slight sound of footsteps at the entrance of the cave, and Emma whispered, "Time is almost up, let's change people." Her voice was low and calm, but still with a hint of softness, as if she was afraid of disturbing the focused rhythm of the two. John wiped the sweat from his face and looked up at her: "Give me another five minutes, I'm about to chisel this piece." Emma did not answer, but just stood aside and watched him silently.
Caesar stood in the shadow not far away, his eyes swept across the cave entrance. His sight was like an invisible sharp blade, firmly locked on everything in front of him. He did not make any sound, but silently observed everyone's movements and status. His fingers were slightly bent, and there seemed to be a strange warmth on his fingertips, which was the residual reaction after he had just used his ability. The gold veins hidden deep in the cave were being extracted bit by bit. What he needed was not ordinary ore, but the purest gold.
Then, he stood alone in a small room deep in the cave, holding a piece of gold that had just been extracted in his hand. This was the result of a complex process of refining, exuding an almost dreamy luster. Caesar lowered his head and stared at it, his fingers gently swiping across the surface, the touch was delicate and cold. He slowly placed the gold nugget on the ground, his palm suspended above it, and a weak energy wave emanated from his palm. A few seconds later, the gold nugget seemed to be sucked into the void by some force and disappeared in an instant.
Caesar opened his eyes, without a trace of extra expression on his face. He knew that the gold had entered his inner space, enough to store everything he needed. He looked down and checked his palms. The faint light had completely disappeared, leaving only a thin layer of fine sweat. He looked up at the corner of the wall, which was the impurities that had just been refined, piled up into a small pile of dull powder.
In the cave not far away, the people who changed shifts had already started working. The new two were Thomas and Gary. They were one of the ten people selected by Caesar and the most patient group. Thomas wore a tattered cloth hat and his eyes were sunken. It was obvious that his body had been overwhelmed by long-term fatigue. But he still held the shovel tightly, as if he had merged with the tool. Gary seemed more focused, his movements were steady and powerful, and sweat dripped down his cheeks to the ground, forming a small water mark.
At the entrance of the cave, Emma and Lor were still keeping watch. Lor seemed a little irritated. He squatted on the ground and drew some meaningless lines on the soil with his fingers: "This place is about to become our grave." Emma looked up at him, her voice still calm: "Shut up, don't distract them." Lor gritted his teeth and whispered: "No matter how smart Caesar is, he can't save all of us. Can't you see? He can't support the entire mine alone." Emma didn't answer, but turned her head to look deep into the cave, with a complex emotion in her eyes.
Caesar's figure suddenly appeared in front of the two of them, his steps were light and steady, without making a sound. He glanced at Lor, didn't say much, just handed a cloth bag in his hand to Emma: "Take it and share it with the children, remember, don't let others see it." Emma nodded and took the cloth bag, which contained a few pieces of compressed dry food and some small dried fruits. Caesar turned his eyes to Lor, his tone calm: "Talk less and look around more." Lor opened his mouth, but in the end said nothing, just lowered his head and kicked the stone on the ground with his foot.
As the night deepened, Caesar returned to his small room again. In his hand was a new piece of gold ore, a high-quality material that he personally selected. He sat in a corner, sliding his fingers gently over the ore, feeling the texture. He closed his eyes and concentrated, a weak energy penetrated into the ore from his palm, and the impurities began to be separated little by little, and the pure gold gradually appeared.