What kind of mutated Puji was this?
Those flaring scales—looked almost like dragon scales…
Cornered before Big Black Mushroom, Lakus once again drew blood from his own body.
Damn this floor—nothing but mushrooms everywhere! He couldn’t find another monster to drain. He had to use his own blood.
If blood spikes couldn’t pierce its scales, then he’d go around them!
He was a genius, after all!
Instead of condensing his blood into spikes, he split it finer—finer still!
Thread by thread, weaving every filament of blood under his control…
The strain was excruciating, nearly enough to make him black out. But with death at his heels, he endured.
【Skill Level Up: Blood Control LV6 → LV7】“Urgh—ahhh!”
Countless blood threads burst forth, lancing into Big Black Mushroom.
They didn’t smash against the scales—instead, they bent, threading into the gaps, then detonated the blood’s magic and vitality within.
Big Black Mushroom shuddered violently, staggering back two steps.
No time for triumph. Lakus seized the opening, transformed into a bat, snatched the Tome, and shot upward.
The dangling mycelium from mushroom trees reached for him, but his small form darted nimbly, slipping through. He cleared the forest.
Only once he was airborne did Lakus breathe in relief.
Thank the heavens he could fly!
The Tome was in hand—he just had to find a way out of the fifth floor…
Then he sensed something rushing toward him—a Puji?
A winged Puji, gliding from the dome above?
What in hells was that!?
In bat form, counterattacking was awkward. He beat his wings furiously, trying to evade. But the Puji was faster.
Still, it could only glide, couldn’t truly fly. If it got close, he could simply veer aside—
Boom—!
The explosion blasted him like a spinning top, flung across the air. It took ages to steady himself.
His injuries didn’t matter. His empty claws did.
“The Tome? Where’s the Tome!?”
It was gone—blown from his grip. He wanted to dive back, but something loomed above.
Black scales, golden vertical pupils, vast wings, and claws descending on him…
…
Still savoring the thrill of a dive-bomb explosion, Lin Jun frowned at the half-vampire tumbling like a cannonball.
Had he swatted him to death?
As the first demon to enter his dungeon, Lin Jun had kept him under close watch. And the target turned out to be after the yellow-bound book.
He’d meant to interrogate him. Killing him outright would be troublesome.
Lin Jun didn’t dislike those who could break through at the edge of death—more skill experience was always welcome.
But injuring Gray… that was another matter.
Still, the guy was impressive. Barely level 40, only just stepping into Gold rank, yet he’d managed to wound Gray alone. Even if just a scratch.
Last time it had taken four Golds and nearly twenty Silvers working together to hurt her.
Thankfully, the status window hadn’t disappeared…
Soon, the cleanup Pujis dragged over both the runaway yellow book and the battered half-vampire.
The book was intact, save for singed edges. Words scrolled across its pages like a ticker tape.
With [Human Common Language LV6], Lin Jun could puzzle out most of it now. Mostly it was useless chatter—denials, pleas for mercy.
One precaution: whenever reading it, he kept his own panel open. If he saw a charm effect, he’d make sure the book understood—it had lived well enough up till now.
As for the half-vampire… a dusting of spores should loosen his tongue.
…
“So you came alone?”
The interrogation went smoothly. Seated before Gray gnawing a Puji, confronted with Lin Jun’s parasitic and hallucinogenic spores, Lakus spilled everything.
The Sacred Tome. A vampire duke. His suspicion of being used as a disposable scout. He confessed it all.
One thing puzzled Lin Jun.
“If you’re treated so harshly, why not defect?”
Lying weak, his wounds unhealed for lack of blood, Lakus rasped:
“Bloodline contract… If I betray my lord, even if I live, I can never advance…”
“What do you mean, advance?”
“Titles… are power… and shackles…” Lakus broke into hacking coughs, dark blood soaking the ground. “Without rising to viscount… level capped… at forty… lifespan… no more than a hundred twenty years…”
A rigid, suffocating hierarchy of control.
Lin Jun found himself a little envious.
His own parasitic powers had limits—the farther away, the weaker his hold.
He eyed the unconscious Lakus. Pujis hauled him off to the Mire of Death.
The man carried a death playback status. Left to rot in the swamp, his master would see nothing more than a vague end.
Lin Jun had no thought of keeping him as a dog.
From the interrogation, it was obvious he was unruly, bound by the advancement system, unsuitable as a subordinate.
What mattered more was the demons’ obsession with the Tome. This yellow book was trouble…
Should he just get rid of it?
In less than a second, Lin Jun dismissed the thought.
It had been here too long. He couldn’t release it.
Better to let Gray shred it than leave it loose.
At that moment, the book’s text scrolled faster, as if panicked…
As for demon reinforcements—Lin Jun wasn’t worried.
Demons dying in Amethyst Dungeon had nothing to do with him.
They wouldn’t send a duke sneaking in just to cause him trouble, would they?
It wasn’t that Lin Jun bore prejudice. From his dealings with the shapeshifter Cloro, he suspected these “races” weren’t so different after all.
He even wanted to meet more—elves, dwarves, demons—anyone.
So long as they came in peace.
But robbers? No mercy.
He checked his panel again. No charm. Good.
A Puji waddled up, rolling up the babbling “honest book.” Lin Jun would forge a new seal for it.
And around it, dozens of mine-Pujis were already in place.
Not to mention his elite Puji program—the first batch was almost ready. Perfect timing. Perhaps visiting demons could help test their effectiveness.