In the swamp that had buried countless corpses, mosquitoes buzzed as always, the scene full of teeming life.
A massive mushroom cap suddenly emerged from the swamp’s edge—a Fat Puji dragging its bulky body ashore, using mycelium tendrils for support.
Then came a second, a third… seven Fat Pujis in total!
After rolling across the ground a few times, they were still stinky, but at least no longer dripping swamp water.
They lined up and waddled toward the staircase to the sixth floor.
From a small tunnel nearby, the Knight Puji emerged carrying Lin Jun’s true body, spreading its wings to land atop one Fat Puji’s cap.
Inside the Fat Pujis were all of Lin Jun’s belongings: magic crystals, equipment, books, gold coins, and other assorted materials.
Taking advantage of Gray’s nap, Lin Jun had packed up—ready to move.
The new home was on the sixth floor, beside a rift valley. He had already dug out a storage chamber there and even asked local monsters to help clear space.
Multiple tunnels had been dug to connect above and below the rift.This position meant no worries about unstable fissures, while also offering an escape straight into deeper levels at any time.
As for humans—even if they discovered him, they would either have to jump into the abyss or descend step by step from the stairways.
By the time they circled around below, Lin Jun could already be back on the sixth floor through his tunnels.
Of course, that was just a last-resort plan. If his true body was ever chased directly by humans, things would already be dire.
The move wasn’t rushed. After all, the humans hadn’t stormed in immediately. Instead, they first issued a public commission.
Though Lin Jun couldn’t directly observe the Guild’s internal dealings, he could still pick up plenty of information from adventurers’ drunken chatter.
——
Yawind Town, Rotten Willow Tavern.
The air was thick with the smell of cheap alcohol, stew, and sweat—noisy as always.
But today’s noise carried an unusual heaviness, threaded with hesitant murmurs.
“What do you guys think about the Guild’s new task?” Horn turned his empty cup in his hands, asking his fixed-party teammates.
Old Hammer, a scarred, grizzled dwarven shield-warrior, sipped his cloudy ale.
He shook his head, white beard trembling. “Again? Why’s there always someone obsessed with those Pujis?”
The ranger Aime toyed with a worn gold coin, flipping it deftly between her fingers with a soft clink.
“The pay’s good,” she said flatly, though her eyes gleamed shrewdly. “Even Silver-ranks get thirty gold upfront. That’s worth dozens of dungeon runs. And they’re recruiting ranged fighters this time. With Church warriors and experts up front, all we’d do is provide long-range support from safety. Practically free money.”
Then she glanced at their party’s priest. “Noah, aren’t you Church too? Got any special intel?”
Noah looked awkward. “I’m just a novice priest. What would I know? How many full priests even bother becoming adventurers…”
“True enough.”
Seeing Aime’s eager look, Horn reminded her, “Did you forget about the Steel Heart squad? Four Gold-ranks, twenty Silvers—wiped out by one big Black Puji. And this time the mission is clearing the entire fifth floor!”
Old Hammer set his mug down with a heavy nod, drumming scarred fingers on the table.
“Not just Steel Heart,” he said, lowering his voice, weary from too much death, “who knows how many have fallen to those Pujis already. You’ve been in Yawind long enough. Ever heard of anyone bringing back news from the mushroom forest or the swamp? No news—that’s the clearest news.”
Horn agreed. “Exactly. The Pujis don’t cause trouble if you don’t mess with them. Why pick a fight?”
To him, Pujis weren’t danger—they were opportunity. The Fat Puji lottery was his favorite part of dungeon runs. Wipe them out, and monster corpses would drop in value! He truly opposed the Guild’s extermination order. But as a mere ordinary adventurer, his voice carried no weight. All he could do was abstain.
“Yeah, why bother killing Pujis?” Noah muttered, watching a Bronze adventurer nearby slurp glowing mushroom porridge. “If the Pujis go, the Mycelium Carpet and mushrooms go too. No more cheap porridge then, right?”
Old Hammer snorted. “You think the lords care about whether we eat cheap or not? Even adventurers don’t care. The Guild posts the quest, gold jingles, and that’s all the reason anyone needs.”
His eyes slid meaningfully toward Aime.
Aime pocketed the coin, patting her leather armor. “Exactly. Gold is reason enough. Thirty gold could keep me carefree for years. I’m signing up. Risk? Adventure is risk.”
She stood, then glanced at Noah. “Those two are melee, they don’t qualify. You coming?”
Horn and Old Hammer drank silently. Teammates or not, adventurers lived free. Everyone chose their own path.
Noah looked around uneasily before shaking his head. The stories had shaken him too much, even if the money tempted him.
Aime sighed in disappointment.
Then Old Hammer spoke. “Go if you want. Don’t worry about us filling your spot. In fact, I’m planning to rest for a while until this blows over. What do you two say?”
Horn shrugged. “A break’s fine by me.”
Noah nodded as well.
Before leaving, Noah instinctively grasped Aime’s wrist, softly intoning the usual blessing: “Aime, may the radiance of Ixion guide your path.”
“Relax!” She grinned, lively as ever. “When I get back, I’ll treat you to the tavern’s new honey-glazed catfish belly! All you can eat!”
Her figure vanished through the wooden doors with a creak.
Moments later, the door opened again—Veyra walked in with Phylline and Fein.
“Yo, Veyra,” Horn greeted. “Haven’t seen you around. Where’ve you been?”
Adventurers in Yawind usually knew each other at least by sight, often exchanging greetings like this.
Veyra was about to say she had taken Phylline to the city for dental treatment when a sharp kick landed on his shin.
He coughed and muttered vaguely, “Handled some things in town.”
Horn nodded knowingly, not prying further.
The tavern’s clamor soon wrapped back around them. After a few idle words, the talk gravitated back to the “new commission” like iron to a magnet.
“Veyra,” Horn leaned forward, “the Guild just posted that big job. You saw it, right?”
“Yeah, glanced at it.” Veyra took the drink from the tiger-man server, plucking a few stray hairs from the rim, voice flat.
“Well? Any thoughts? Phylline and Fein both qualify, don’t they?” Horn probed, glancing at the quiet twins.
Veyra waved frantically, face pale with rejection, even a hint of lingering fear. “Don’t even joke about it! Last time with Steel Heart, we almost got dragged in ourselves! This time? We’re hiding, not joining!”
He gulped down his drink, grumbling bitterly, “If I’d known, we would’ve just stayed longer in the city!”