The vision flashed by without giving Lin Jun a chance to investigate thoroughly.
Coffins, a mountain, pitch-black sky.
Meaning unclear.
Lin Jun carefully inspected this newly completed mushroom puppet.
The parasitism process was flawless. Mycelia bonded tightly with residual nerves and muscles, control feedback was smooth—no abnormalities whatsoever.
That vision… was it because this panel-less monster itself had some connection to the mist?
Then they should capture more to test.
Conveniently, these modified puppets could also supplement the team as additional combat power.
When the mushroom puppet was thrown by Lin Jun into Little Pig’s temporary base camp, it triggered an unexpected reaction.
Among the soldiers participating in this operation, quite a few were captives conscripted from those two defeated tribes.
They had redeemed their freedom by accumulating high contribution points through military service.
And they were absolutely no strangers to mushroom puppets!
Quite a few had personally witnessed how those rebellious tribesmen who remained defiant even after capture were gradually replaced by growing mushrooms before their very eyes, ultimately transforming into the walking corpse-like forms now before them.
Those with firmer wills gripped their weapons tight, knuckles white, struggling to maintain expressionless faces.
Those with weaker mentality already trembled uncontrollably, some even instinctively retreating half a step.
Even Little Pig, upon seeing that puppet with glowing mushrooms blooming from its eye sockets, instinctively felt a chill run down her spine, remembering her former self.
But she quickly suppressed this discomfort, her expression management flawless.
However, unlike the others, after that momentary chill, Little Pig immediately became excited.
Mushroom puppets were great!
She had a premonition the Northern Territory would clash with the Empire sooner or later.
When that time came, she would capture those high-ranking vampires who once lorded over her, colleagues who sabotaged her, and so on… one by one onto the fungal mat and turn them into puppets alive, letting them properly experience the despair she once felt!
The fishmen’s reaction was another scene entirely. Seeing this former invader enter through the secret passage, many fishman warriors immediately raised harpoons, emitting threatening glubglubs, eyes mixing anger, confusion, and wariness.
The commotion spread until old fishman Gulgulu issued a string of steady glubglubs to soothe them, and the situation gradually calmed.
Reconnaissance squads returned one after another, bringing various intelligence Little Pig urgently needed—terrain details, enemy distribution, possible traps and passage conditions.
Of course, some squads paid a price for this. Some lost Puchis, others suffered casualties.
Fortunately, no entire squad was completely annihilated.
Even the squad in the worst situation—their fishman guide died in battle, unable to use secret passages to escape—relied on several Puchis fighting to the death as rear guard to successfully cover three squad members’ breakthrough and withdrawal.
Little Pig consolidated information brought back by these squads. Before long, she formulated attack routes and march planning.
While ensuring retreat routes, seize the dungeon entrance with overwhelming force!
Looking at that mushroom puppet Boss had just transferred to her control, she also adjusted combat strategy.
Along the way, while guaranteeing no losses on their side, capture as many of these monsters alive as possible.
Though not as useful as Puchis, they could at least reduce friendly casualties—free resources shouldn’t go to waste.
Amid Ming’s excited cheers, this “Tidal Sanctuary Expeditionary Force” mixed from Mycelium Puchi Fortress soldiers, various Puchis, fishmen, and newly added puppets officially marched out toward routes marked on the map.
On the other side, Lin Jun completed parasitism and limb reattachment work for that one-armed fishman.
This wasn’t because he suddenly cared about fishmen’s health, but more a probe of the old fishman’s attitude.
However, old fishman Gulgulu didn’t prevent his tribesman from accepting parasitism.
In fact, since Lin Jun’s arrival, everything he’d done—including beginning to spread underwater fungal mat inside Tidal Sanctuary—the old fishman showed a permissive, even cooperative attitude without the slightest sign of resistance.
How strange.
Were there really races willing to accept his mycelia so unreservedly?
You know, even in human and elf societies that had already formed semi-binding symbiotic relationships with mycelia, voices opposing mycelial parasitism and advocating maintaining individual “purity” had never ceased.
In fact, as mycelial symbiosis scale continuously expanded—perhaps foreseeing possible future scenarios—while “Symbiosis Faction” numbers increased, more and more people also turned toward the “Purity Faction,” making such opposition voices increasingly loud.
Of course, currently such disputes were still in early stages of mutual debate.
Even among assimilated tribes, there was an extremely small portion of hardliners who refused to accept mycelia.
They wouldn’t integrate into the mycelial network, naturally had no [Cold Resistance], couldn’t earn contribution points, and couldn’t enjoy various conveniences.
Lin Jun had no spare time to persecute these stubborn elements—doing so was both time-consuming and bad for his image.
Though Lin Jun never took any coercive measures against them, Mycelium Puchi Fortress’s environment itself left little survival space for these “Purity Faction” members.
These people either ultimately yielded to reality then discovered it was actually great, or quietly disappeared in some unknown corner, still becoming nutrients nourishing mycelia after death.
Recalling the past, which time didn’t require Lin Jun to guide overtly or covertly, pay invisible effort and cost, to finally achieve a group’s acceptance of mycelia?
The fishmen’s attitude of practically offering themselves for the taking was really… conversely making Lin Jun somewhat uncertain, only daring to proceed bit by bit.
…
On the other side, on the turbulent sea surface directly above Tidal Sanctuary’s entrance—
A medium-sized sailboat rose and fell with the waves, anchored in place. At the limit of its vision, an endless gray-white fog wall stood in the distance, swallowing the sea-sky boundary.
The mist’s retreat boundary was fixed there.
The seawater around the ship was murky, pale blue and crimson intermingled—traces left by a fierce battle just concluded.
The snakefolk mercenaries had finally cleared the last wave of monsters attacking from the mist’s edge waters.
“Hold him down! Don’t forcibly pull out the bone spikes—you’ll tear the wound open!”
“Quick! Bring two more intermediate healing potions! His injuries are dangerous!”
The ship’s deck was chaotic as snakefolk treated teammates injured in recent combat.
Inside the cabin, the atmosphere dropped to freezing.
The snakefolk mercenary company’s leader, the burly snakeman called “Ironjaw,” threw a monster’s severed limb onto the cabin floor.
His vertical pupils contracted to thin lines as he coldly stared at the foxfolk employer:
“Evil things drilling out from the mist—before departure, you never mentioned we’d get close enough to see the fog wall clearly!”
Foxfolk Kiro’s pointed ears twitched lightly, his face showing innocent helplessness: “How could I possibly know in advance exactly where the mist retreated to? Chief Ironjaw, look—there’s still a buffer zone of sea area. As long as luck isn’t too bad, theoretically nothing should happen…”
He paused, adopting a negotiating tone: “Of course, if you and your brothers feel the risk is too great and decide to abandon this commission now, I completely understand—no need to return the deposit. However… if you’re willing to take on this additional risk, then besides immediately paying the remaining half of the fee upon landing, I’m willing to add another fifty percent as compensation. And… I’ll put in good words about Ironjaw Mercenary Company’s courage and professionalism among my friends.”
When hearing “add fifty percent fee,” muscles twitched on Ironjaw’s fine-scaled face, somewhat hesitant.
When Kiro mentioned helping advertise his mercenary company, he finally was moved.
He belonged to snakefolk who’d naturalized to the Empire during the war. This mercenary company was newly established and urgently needed to build reputation and credibility.
This fox before him… from what he knew, indeed had connections with several Empire nobles holding real power.
“Deal!” Ironjaw gritted his teeth, pulled a blank parchment scroll from his waist pouch, and swiftly signed a supplementary contract with Kiro.
Ink barely dry, he turned and slid out of the cabin, using a hoarse voice to urge subordinates through final preparations before diving.
After Ironjaw left, Tanaka, who’d been watching with folded arms, sidled up to Kiro, lowering his voice: “Hey, fox, we already have to figure out how to scrape together that remaining half of the fee. Now there’s an extra fifty percent… which lord are you planning to sweet-talk into filling this hole?”
Kiro glanced at him without directly answering. Instead, he shed his previous smooth expression, eyes becoming serious: “Be extra careful this time. Make absolutely sure to follow my requirements strictly, otherwise we might really leave our lives down there.”
“That dangerous?” Tanaka asked suspiciously. “That’s not right—doesn’t your Temperance allow predictive simulation? How could there be accidents?”
“Temperance isn’t omnipotent.” The foxfolk shook his head, not planning to explain details.
Tanaka sighed. This kind of “thrilling” life really wasn’t what he wanted.
(End of Chapter)
