This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

Inside the mushroom hut, Norris opened his eyes with visible exhaustion. Bloodshot veins covered his eyes.

He had spent the entire night trapped in nightmares of being chased by an indescribable giant claw. Even though he slept long enough, his mind and body felt drained—as if he really had been fleeing all night.

He really had been scared badly.

The only good news was that the boss didn’t seem bothered by the accidental death of that special puji.

Based on the boss’s habits, if he wanted to punish someone, he usually acted the same day.

Since things had been peaceful for a whole day, he probably didn’t care.

However, just as Norris took his yellow book and stepped out of his mushroom hut, he froze at the bizarre sight before him.

…

Outside Gray’s mushroom hut, No. 1 puji—reborn again after Lin Jun reinserted his soul into a cocoon—was standing up straight in the center of a small crowd of newly born intelligent pujis.

It waved its mycelial tendrils, its passionate thoughts echoing across the fungal network:

“People of the Mushroom Tribe! Look at us! We are the children personally chosen by the Fungus Lord! We are extensions of His great will! We are the guardians of this paradise!”

Its “gaze” swept across the somewhat confused but clearly fascinated pujis. Then its tendril jabbed toward the narrow door gap of Gray’s hut.

“But right there! Lurks a barbaric and crude monster! A terrifying beast that delights in devouring our noble Mushroom Tribe! An enemy we must face head-on!”

The cluster of pujis immediately burst into fearful and indignant gasps.

“And today!” No. 1’s mushroom cap trembled with excitement. “Today, we unify the strength of the Mushroom Tribe! We will challenge it! Defeat it! We must make it understand that we are NOT snacks! We have strength! We have wisdom! We must defend the unshakable dignity of the Mushroom Tribe!”

Below, the dozen pujis erupted into cheers and rhythmic slaps of tendrils on the ground.

However, not every puji agreed.

“Hmph.”

A displeased voice sounded as No. 2 puji shoved aside the overexcited No. 4.

“Who made you the leader? You were only born one day earlier. The great Fungus Lord never appointed you to command us. I’m not throwing my life away on your orders.”

With that, No. 2 turned and left.

Among the pujis, No. 10—silent and observant—looked at Gray’s mushroom hut, then at its fired-up siblings. It quietly shuffled backward, inching toward the rear of the formation.

While most pujis were focused on No. 2’s departure, No. 10 slipped into the shadows of a nearby hut and vanished.

After the mild disruption, the remaining eleven pujis finally seemed united.

No. 1 could finally outline its “strategy”:

“Remember, once we pull the door open, we all—”

Before it could finish, all the pujis suddenly stepped back at once.

No. 1 realized something was wrong. Its perception extended across the mycelium carpet behind it…

Gray had stuck her head out through the hut’s door gap. Her golden eyes swept across the group—and she discovered a crowd of breakfast items disturbing her nap.

“For the glory of the Mushroom Tribe! Defeat the puji-eater beast!”

No. 4 reacted instantly, shouting with blazing courage as it charged forward.

Straight into Gray’s mouth.

“Run!”

Some puji shouted, and aside from No. 1, all the survivors immediately scattered.

Seeing the situation collapse, No. 1 swallowed its frustration and prepared to retreat for now—to regroup and one day rise again.

But as it tried to flee, No. 13 quietly hooked one of No. 1’s short legs with a tendril.

Caught off guard, No. 1 crashed to the ground.

Before it could even lift its head to see which traitor struck from behind, that familiar giant dark claw came down and grabbed its mushroom cap.

Dragging it back into the hut.

Its furious scream echoed across the fungal network for only a split second before Gray’s hut door closed—and the sound vanished entirely.

…

Norris sat on a large mushroom outside his own hut, scratching the scales on his chin as he watched the curtain fall on the “Mushroom Tribe vs. the puji-eating beast” spectacle.

He vaguely felt the boss was inventing something dangerous again. These pujis—able to think independently, even quarrel with each other—were truly unprecedented. Yet watching them get picked off by Gray like snacks… their “strength” became difficult to describe.

And the boss seemed not at all bothered by their deaths?

Norris stared blankly for a long while before snapping out of the daze—only to jump in shock the moment he lowered his gaze.

The yellow book on his lap was rapidly filling with text—fast enough to cover the blank pages entirely.

[Norris, what are those things?]

[Soul! I sensed independent souls! Why do those mushrooms contain such souls? They are clearly all—]

[Transformation magic? No… Did he stuff someone else’s soul inside?? Still doesn’t feel like it…]

[Cre… creating souls? Is he creating souls???]

[Norris, what is that? Look over here!]

[Norris?]

[NORRIS!!!]

Seeing an entire page full of his name made Norris’s heart leap. He had rarely seen the yellow book senior in such a frantic state.

In his experience, the book fawned shamelessly before the boss, mocked Norris bitterly whenever he was down, gave reluctant helpful advice when needed, and in its free time… enjoyed gossiping about Blood Sister or other vampires.

Normally, the book carried an air of calm boredom. This loss of composure was extremely rare.

“Senior, please calm down!” Norris scratched his head, hurriedly explaining. “They’re… uh… some new puji models the boss made. I don’t really know the details.”

[Boss! Great Boss! Can you hear me? I have something important to say!]

Two messy lines scrawled down, and with no response, the book turned back to Norris.

[Norris, call the boss for me.]

“This…” Norris hesitated.

[Norris, I beg you! This is very important to me!]

“O-okay, okay! Don’t panic!”

Startled by the book’s intensity, Norris had no choice but to contact the boss through the fungal network.

…

Pup—pup—

With two wet snaps of breaking mycelial strands, No. 1 and No. 4 puji crawled out of the sticky cocoons once more.

Mycelium still clung to their caps. No. 1 waved its tendrils angrily, about to lodge a furious complaint to the Fungus Lord about the “puji-eating beast’s” atrocities and their brethren’s betrayal. No. 4 hopped excitedly beside it, ready to echo.

However, before either could say anything, the waiting knight puji grabbed the pair of round-bodied troublemakers and dragged them out.

Lin Jun had originally planned to create many more intelligent pujis. Even though each required slicing off a fragment of his soul, with his soul capacity, producing hundreds or even thousands wouldn’t affect him much.

But after seeing their behavior, Lin Jun decided—for now—to create only thirteen.

For a simple reason: they all had too much personality.

This wasn’t adding advanced AI. Each of these pujis had a full, distinct personality.

If he made too many, his troops would be a total mess, and executing orders would become a nightmare.

Better to restrict them to a small number among high-level pujis, increasing numbers only as needed, within a controlled range.

For now, these individuals were still in the “personality conditioning” and “social adaptation test” phase. Their bodies were only ordinary elite-puji grade.

So even if No. 1 and No. 4 died repeatedly, the loss was acceptable. Just recover the soul and hatch them again.

But that annoying book…

Lin Jun’s attention shifted to Norris’s timid call over the fungal network.

What did he want now?