This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

Inside a small glass tube were a few drops of transparent liquid.

It looked like water, but slightly thicker. When the tube was tilted, the droplets slid down the glass wall slowly, leaving faint trails behind.

All of it had been collected from Lin Jun’s main body.

After reclaiming the skill, the blue mushroom’s cap began secreting this fluid—the “moist” feeling he’d noticed earlier had come from that.

Thinking about it now, the reason he hadn’t noticed this effect when the skill was installed on other pujis was probably a matter of body size.

Even if an armored puji or an ordinary puji had a few extra drops of liquid inside them, it wouldn’t be noticeable.

This must be the liquid produced by [Life Essence], right? But what exactly was it for?

He needed… an experimental subject.

Lin Jun’s gaze instinctively turned toward Norris, who was setting traps and wards outside his mushroom hut.

No, no—bad habit. He had plenty of subordinates now; he didn’t need Norris to risk his neck anymore.

His attention shifted again—this time to another, secret cavern deep within the lower levels.

No one knew about Lin Jun’s main nest for safety reasons, but this place was hidden for a different reason—he didn’t want his subordinates to think he was some cruel, inhuman overlord. That would make unity… difficult.

The dim bioluminescence revealed several huddled figures inside the cavern.

Most were humans, captured from Mordu.

Among them were deranged killers, ruthless adventurers, bullies, gang members—anyone whose disappearance wouldn’t raise too many questions, and whose suffering wouldn’t weigh on Lin Jun’s conscience.

Besides the humans, there were also a few half-demons and lizardmen—prisoners guilty of unforgivable crimes.

Those strong enough to reach gold rank or higher were completely parasitized, turned into mushroom-men guards. The weaker, useless ones—too weak to justify a full puji fusion—were thrown here, to make what little contribution they could to the mushroom gardens.

Even Sigismund’s fine red wine supply came thanks to this place.

Puji—squelch—

A fat puji waddled into the cavern, and the air grew tense instantly.

When they saw it wasn’t one of the blood-draining pujis, but a fat one, the captives all scrambled backward, trying to vanish into the stone walls.

No one who had ever been taken by that fat puji had ever come back. No one believed they’d been set free.

The creature’s thick tendrils swept lazily over their heads as if browsing produce at a market, before stopping on one man whose dull eyes didn’t flinch or dodge.

Lin Jun remembered him—a jealous adventurer who’d secretly poisoned his retiring teammate, then cleverly redirected the sheriff’s investigation to avoid suspicion. Lin Jun had thought of him as a “high-intelligence criminal.”

Then, one dark and windy night, Lin Jun had used a charm puji to abduct him here.

At first the man had raged and resisted, but now, barely two months later, he looked broken—dead inside.

Someone like this, who had lost all will to live, would die soon anyway. Better to make use of him first.

When the heavy footsteps finally faded, the cavern erupted with ragged breathing. Several captives had held their breath the entire time.

…

One drop down the throat, and the effect was immediate.

It worked like high-grade [Regeneration]. The subject’s overlapping scars and bruises vanished rapidly before their eyes, leaving not a single mark behind.

At that moment, a warrior puji lashed out with a blade-whip of mycelium. With a scream, the subject’s left arm was severed at the shoulder, spraying blood.

Yet the liquid’s effects continued to unfold.

The torn flesh and embedded mycelium writhed and intertwined, regenerating at incredible speed—until half the arm had regrown.

After another drop, the arm was whole again.

Hmm… looks like I can save money on limb-regeneration potions from now on.

Just as Lin Jun was mulling over how oddly practical the result was, he noticed the subject’s status panel flicker.

[Level Up: LV28 → LV29]

A level-up?!

The complete healing—combined with the sudden power surge—seemed to reignite the man’s survival instinct.

He let out a guttural roar, his limp body bursting with new strength. The tendons in his arms bulged, and he actually tore free one of the fat puji’s tendrils!

Lin Jun’s eyes narrowed. The man’s attributes had suddenly spiked—by nearly fifty percent.

Tearing off the remaining mycelium bindings, the subject rolled aside, narrowly dodging another whip strike. Then, like a headless chicken, he bolted toward a wider tunnel.

Squelch, squelch, squelch—

A heartbeat later, the man stumbled and fell. His body hit the floor, sprouting clusters of mushrooms as he convulsed, leaving a trail of broken mycelium behind.

Lin Jun ignored the newly mushroomed corpse, his eyes gleaming with excitement. Finally, a glimmer of understanding!

His main body had been secreting more of the liquid recently anyway, so he sent the fat puji back to fetch more “test subjects.”

After several more rounds of testing, Lin Jun finally figured out what the substance truly was.

When consumed, it prioritized healing all injuries—its effect even surpassed that of limb-regeneration potions.

If used in combat, after wounds were healed, any remaining energy transformed into a temporary attribute boost—with almost none of the usual side effects of berserk elixirs.

In one outstanding case, a test subject’s stats nearly doubled for a short time.

If drunk while uninjured and calm, the energy was instead absorbed steadily, converted into experience points, and promoted level growth.

However, consuming too much too quickly seemed to reduce absorption efficiency.

In short, it was like an experience potion, a berserk drug, and a regeneration elixir—all in one.

Functionally it behaved that way, but at its core, the fluid was pure condensed life energy.

Lin Jun even suspected it could extend lifespan—though that would be harder to prove.

He recalled the artifact known as the Heartwood Core, which also revolved around manipulating life force.

This [Life Essence] perfectly matched the Divinewood’s power style.

If that was the case, then with a steady supply of this liquid life energy, wouldn’t he soon break past level 70, then 80, charge through 90, and stand atop the world itself?

Even if efficiency dropped over time, as long as he produced enough and absorbed it all himself, he could brute-force his way upward!

In the days that followed, Lin Jun carefully controlled his main body, reabsorbing all the secreted life energy again and again.

He repeated the cycle for many days, eagerly waiting for his level to rise.

But the expected surge never came. He didn’t level up at all.

Perplexed, Lin Jun decided to create a control group—he summoned Gray, who had just reached LV63, only one level below him.

He split the daily yield of life fluid in half, drinking one portion himself and letting Gray ingest the other.

Of course, he didn’t tell Gray about it. The creature didn’t notice a thing, though it did think the pujis had become oddly sticky and chewy lately.

Then, one day, Gray advanced smoothly to LV64—matching Lin Jun’s level.

Meanwhile, despite days of consuming extra life energy, Lin Jun hadn’t gained a single level.

The brutal experiment forced him to reconsider a question he’d once pushed aside:

Just how much more experience did he need to level up compared to everyone else?!