“Boss! The dungeon’s gonna collapse!”
The instant Inanna reconnected to the mycelial network, she blurted out the explosive news.
Only… why did her emotions carry a faint, almost hidden trace of excitement?
Your boss is about to be homeless and you’re happy about it?
“Boss, if the dungeon collapses, do you want to move? There’s a nice forest near my place…”
“First explain clearly—what do you mean the dungeon is going to collapse?” Lin Jun pressed.
“It’s… it’s what Scholar Gug said!” Inanna scrunched up her little face, struggling to piece words together. “He said the core doesn’t work anymore… fixing the mana won’t help… um… something collapsed? Or locked up?” She fought hard to recall Gug’s arcane jargon, but the result was a jumble of broken phrases.
“Stop! Enough!” Lin Jun quickly cut off the disastrous explanation.
Thankfully, it wasn’t only this scatterbrained girl who had gone to the core.
“Aedin. What’s the actual situation with the dungeon core?” Lin Jun asked privately.“Ah! Boss!” Aedin’s eyelid twitched when the voice rang in his mind.
He composed himself at once, face returning to its usual stoic mask, and in the fungal network relayed Gug’s analysis with calm clarity.
He didn’t quote word-for-word, but every key point came through: the core nearing shutdown, missing foundational technology, human maintenance methods utterly useless.
This was the reliability of a diamond-ranked mage who had climbed up by his own merit—worlds apart from the babbling little noble girl propped up by family resources.
Lin Jun couldn’t follow all the technical jargon either, but one fact was clear: humans could not save the core.
Tch!
Useless humans!
Sword Saint leading a grand expedition, an entire team of experts—and in the end, helpless. Just planning to walk away!
Lin Jun cursed, but truthfully, he was anxious too. If even the experts couldn’t fix it, what could one mushroom do?
If he had fingernails, he’d be chewing them by now.
He fretted—and then pulled out the yellow-bound book that had spent half a month wedged under a Fat Otaku Puji’s backside.
[Norris! You’ve finally come to take me back!!!]
But before it was only a relay Puji, croaking in Lin Jun’s awful, grating voice.
[Uh? Ah? Boss!]
[Wh-what do you need?]
“Just a small question,” Lin Jun said tonelessly.
[How small…?] the book asked cautiously.
“Oh, just whether or not I’ll throw you into that space rift over there.” The voice was flat, as if discussing the weather.
[…]
A long pause.
[You… you speak! I will answer all I know, without omission!]
“You said before the dungeon’s problem lies in the core. That’s confirmed now. But the issue is,” Lin Jun’s tone grew impatient, “even the so-called human experts have declared the core beyond repair. If we do find it, what then?”
[The humans tried repairing the core?]
The book, smothered for weeks, had no idea what had happened outside.
Lin Jun tersely summarized the situation and Gug’s conclusion.
[Ha! Worthless humans!]
The book’s contempt was clear.
[A mere three-hundred-year-old kingdom—what heritage could it possibly have? A pack of frogs in a well! Boss, you never should have expected anything from them!] Its pages quivered with excitement.
[Take me there! I have eighty percent confidence I can restore the dungeon!]
“Eighty percent?”
[Eh… one must leave some margin for unforeseen accidents, yes…] the book hedged.
“And how exactly do you intend to fix it?” Lin Jun asked.
[The core’s inner workings are damaged. We must find the faulty section, repair or replace it. But of course, I must see it first to decide.] Its tone shifted, wheedling.
[Um… Boss, I have one tiny, insignificant request.]
“Speak.”
[If… if I truly succeed in restoring the dungeon, once you hold the core… might I perhaps have… more freedom to feed?]
“If you can truly fix it, I won’t restrict your feeding anymore.”
[Boss is wise!!! Boss eternal!!!]
“One last question.”
[Ask anything!]
“After repair, will the rifts vanish instantly?”
[No. Just as they expanded gradually, they will close gradually.]
With that, Lin Jun shoved the book back beneath the pliant Puji rump. This time, it didn’t dare complain.
If possible, Lin Jun still preferred the humans repairing the dungeon. At least they wouldn’t play tricks.
As for the Yellow Book(Holy Scripture/Tome)… Lin Jun had no choice but to use it now. Otherwise, the safest path would be to study the core himself.
But time wasn’t on his side.
And entrusting the fate of the dungeon to such a shady, untrustworthy creature… Lin Jun had to prepare contingencies.
Above all, his true body must not remain in Amethyst Dungeon during the repair.
If things went wrong and the core unraveled in some catastrophic dungeon collapse, there would be no escape.
Best case: flung to some unknown corner, forced to start over.
Worst case: cast into the void, sharing the despair of vanished Pujis.
Safety! Safety above all!
At present, he had two fallback shelters. One was the surface—but humans were now hypersensitive to Puji presence, making it dangerous.
The second… the rifts.
Not the cursed void or the slime world, both uninhabitable for now. But the Chiss realm? Cold, yes, but survivable. Surely his “good neighbor” wouldn’t object to him squatting there while his home underwent “renovations.”
Still, Lin Jun kept the surface as a secondary backup.
More options meant more safety.
Which was why—even though the Amethyst Dungeon’s imminent collapse would soon erase the humans’ justification to hunt him—Lin Jun still decided to stage the “big scene” he’d planned all along!
——
The expert team, spirits dampened, trudged on. Suddenly, Aedin halted, clutching his special crystal.
“My micro-illusion scouts… may have sighted the King of Pujis.” His gaze swept the group, lingering on Sword Saint and Fifteen.
“In the deep layers?!” Fifteen exclaimed. Unbelievable—he knew Pujis appeared here, but one from the fifth floor, this far down?
“I believe so.” Aedin wasted no words. He poured mana into the crystal, projecting the image.
A cavern swathed in fungal mats and swarming with Pujis. At its center sat a special Puji—red cloak, silver pendant, great shield—perched regally atop a Fat Otaku Puji’s cap.
Fifteen’s eyes locked on the familiar shield, especially the two deep crossed sword-gashes etched into its face. At once he confirmed: “It’s him!”
Aedin looked to the Sword Saint. “So… do we still follow the plan to ‘subdue’ it? After all, with the dungeon doomed, it may not be worth the effort. Letting them perish with it would be simpler.”
But Elvien’s eyes lit up with interest. “Oh? This is the Puji that defeated you? Hm… amusing indeed.” He flexed his wrist, casually rolling his sword. “Since we’ve stumbled upon it, let’s have a look.”
Though the dungeon was fated to collapse, Gug had said it would take about half a year. So detouring to hunt a mushroom king? No one objected.