Ah—!
Sunlight!
Breeze!
Finally… finally I can feel it again!
Atop the cap of a giant mushroom tree outside the dungeon, Knight Puji held Lin Jun’s true body aloft, greedily basking in the long-lost sunlight!
With the humans temporarily fled, and with clones prepared as insurance, Lin Jun could finally let his true self out, unafraid, to embrace the sun he had yearned for day and night.
This was the taste of freedom!
Half a minute later, Knight quietly gathered his true body back, fluttered his little wings, and descended lightly from the tree.
Lin Jun then made a cruel discovery—he actually preferred the damp, gloomy swamps.
Though he had [Heat Resistance] and couldn’t truly be harmed by the sun, his body still felt oddly dry when exposed too long. Must be instinct, a quirk of his race.“Grr—”
A low growl rumbled beneath the mushroom tree. A wind wolf crept out from the bushes, amber eyes fixed warily on the scaly Puji. Fangs bared, paws scraping the earth, it hesitated over whether to attack.
Lin Jun kindly helped it make the decision.
A flash of his bladed tendril—shhk!—and the wolf split cleanly in half, collapsing onto the mycelium mat without even a cry.
Since the humans’ departure, lesser monsters had begun probing the area.
But all were small fry like this wolf—not worth his attention.
Without human interference, Lin Jun’s mycelium spread unchecked, engulfing even the Adventurers’ Guild.
Surface mana density was lower than underground, so naturally-born slimes were rare. With no predators, Lin Jun didn’t even need Puji patrols here.
What’s more, sunlight-fed photosynthesis generated mana far more efficiently than in the far north. Laying out carpets of mycelium under the sun was pure profit!
The glowing mushrooms sprouting across the land lured monsters as well.
Lin Jun ignored them, content to play the role of producer and decomposer.
Meanwhile, he began digging mycelial tunnel networks on the surface.
Since humans would surely return, he dug deep. Building a “dungeon beside the dungeon” thrilled him just thinking of it.
Above, things thrived. Below, order was slowly restored.
He had sealed the largest rifts that spewed monsters. The rest were being cleared one by one.
He didn’t seal them all, though—he left small passages for Pujis, handy for future visits to neighbors.
Especially that lush, green forest brimming with life—it practically begged to become Mushroom Garden No. 4!
Moments like this reminded him of poor Dylan.
One of the earliest “employees,” who had endured hiding on the fifth floor back when Lin Jun had nothing. Now Lin Jun owned the entire dungeon—yet Dylan wasn’t here to enjoy it.
With Dylan’s rotten luck, Lin Jun doubted he’d ever return.
Maybe he’d raise a monument for him on the fifth floor—an empty grave for an absent comrade.
Meanwhile, his [Inspiration] skill had leveled rapidly. Perhaps from constantly breaking down corpses, watching souls dissolve, it had reached level three in mere days.
Now he could faintly perceive the state of souls he consumed.
And he noticed a stark divide.
Creatures like minotaurs left behind dense soul cores that slowly merged into the world like drops of water into the sea.
Others—slimes, dryads, Mirage, and the like—only shed scattered wisps, dissolving like dust on the wind.
After repeated tests, he was nearly certain the difference lay in “intelligence.”
Minotaurs might be muscle-brained brutes, but they were still truly sapient.
Someday, he’d study how different intelligent races’ souls varied.
Nor had he forgotten the other sapients in the dungeon—the werewolves of the tenth floor.
His mycelium had already spread there.
Like the fifth floor, the tenth was hammered by invading monsters.
But unlike the wreckage of the fifth, the werewolves had slaughtered every intruder, leaving only bloodstains and drag marks. It was as if they’d never been attacked.
Through the mat’s senses, Lin Jun saw their camp—bellies round, fur glossy, looking far healthier than before.
They had no intention of leaving home. Instead, they feasted on every “takeout” delivery that dared step in.
Unfortunately, they were wary. Patrols scraped away at any mycelium near their village, stopping Lin Jun from observing too closely.
Still, he wanted them. With potential rivaling vampires, werewolves were a prize.
No rush. The dungeon was under his control. They couldn’t escape.
He’d watch, learn their habits, social order, weaknesses—then choose the “friendly” way to make contact.
The tenth floor spread was smooth. The ninth, however, posed a problem.
The flesh-creatures there devoured everything. His mats were food to them. He’d lay them out, only to see them chewed away—even climbing walls to gorge themselves.
From the staircase, shielded by dungeon rules, Lin Jun glimpsed more.
Elsewhere, the dungeon was on the defensive. On the ninth, those flesh-things were the invaders.
He saw them hurl themselves into unstable rifts, losing limbs to warped space, yet eagerly forcing through—drawn by whatever feast lay beyond.
And none ever returned.
Whoever lived on the other side… Lin Jun lit a candle in their memory.
While he happily rebuilt, one of his demonborn followers, having saved up enough contribution points, finally made a request to exchange for something other than mushrooms…