This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

Pff—

Under Julia’s excited watch, a puji with a multicolored mushroom cap drilled its way out of the cocoon.

“Puji God? Or… a divine messenger, Lord of the Mushroomfolk?” Julia asked tentatively.

However, the puji that emerged didn’t acknowledge her right away. It first planted itself firmly in place, then methodically began tidying up the scattered hay piled in the corner of the cell.

Its tentacles deftly sorted the hay to the left and right, stacking it into two neat piles of identical height. Even the bits sticking out at the edges were carefully tucked back in.

Only after finishing did it plop down on the center line of the cell, then beckon with a tentacle for the still-dazed Julia to sit at the designated spot as well.

“I am Twelve. The Fungus Lord heard your voice. I was ordered to come guide you toward the truth.”

It was the first time Julia had heard a voice coming from the fungal network.

“The… truth?” Julia repeated blankly.

Twelve took her by the hand and led her to the cell door. With a light flick of its tentacle, the metal lock fell to the ground.

The sound alerted a guard, who rushed over and ran straight into Julia as she stepped out of the cell.

“A jailbreak?” His right hand went to his sword, but then a flash of color completely captured his attention. “Pu… ji?”

On Twelve’s mushroom cap, colors flowed and shifted, glowing softly.

The guard’s gaze gradually grew unfocused. The hand gripping the sword hilt loosened bit by bit. In the end, he scratched his head in confusion, sat back down where he was, and completely ignored Twelve and Julia as they swaggered past.

Not just the guard—even the other prisoners in the cells fell into the same dazed state.

Watching this miraculous scene unfold, Julia, an ordinary person, murmured, “Is this… a miracle?”

“What are you thinking? This is just a charm skill.” Twelve mercilessly shattered her fantasy. “Don’t lump everything you don’t understand under ‘miracles.’ That just makes you look silly. We believe in seeking truth from facts…”

As it pulled Julia along, Twelve educated her on how to properly worship the Fungus Lord—what she called the Puji God.

Along the way, the few guards they encountered were all easily charmed.

These jailers, most of whom only had Bronze-tier strength, stood no chance against Charm LV9, even though the power was already discounted when used by a puji.

Once they were out of the prison, things became even simpler.

With full-map navigation, bustling Mordu seemed to turn into an empty city. All the way to the entrance of the puji dungeon, Julia didn’t bump into a single person.

After entering the dungeon, Julia finally saw the legendary puji hidden room.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get to experience the full “puji one-stop service,” because the moment the hidden room’s door closed and opened again, she was suddenly transported to the tenth floor.

Just like a miracle.

It was her first time entering a dungeon, and she was quite scared.

Although ever since this dungeon became the puji dungeon, its danger level had dropped significantly, that was only true for adventurers.

Julia was, in the end, just an ordinary woman.

But under Twelve’s guidance, she naturally encountered no danger at all.

Deep underground, she witnessed a scene that both shocked and frightened her—demons.

In the deeper layers of the puji dungeon, a considerable number of demons were actually living there.

They worked together with puji in cave after cave.

Some were mining ore or magic crystals, while others were cultivating firefly grass, which had become increasingly scarce on the market.

Strangely, when these demons noticed her, there was no greed, no hostility, not even much curiosity—just the indifference one might show to a stranger who happened to brush past.

This was completely different from the image of demons she had heard about in the past.

She asked cautiously, “Lord… Mushroom Messenger, these… are demons, right? Why are they here?”

“What ‘Mushroom Messenger’? That sounds weird. Just call me Twelve. And you should also try communicating through the fungal network. The Fungus Lord should have granted you permission already. I can’t hear you clearly when you talk out loud.”

“As for these—these are all residents of the Mushroom Garden.”

“Residents of the Mushroom Garden? Aren’t they demons?”

“That’s exactly the problem.” Twelve extended a tentacle, pointing at a female lizardfolk who was harvesting ripe mushrooms in a field with her children, her movements gentle and practiced. “What do you think is the difference between you and her?”

“The difference?” Julia looked over blankly. “I’m human, and she’s… a lizardfolk. A type of demon, right?”

It was her first time seeing a living lizardfolk up close.

“Then do you know that, in the Fungus Lord’s eyes, there is no difference between you?”

“How could there be no difference?” They were obviously completely different.

“You both need food and water. You both feel joy and sorrow. You both long for safety and belonging. And more importantly, the Fungus Lord has said that after death, your souls are fundamentally the same. There is no such thing as a ‘human soul’ or a ‘demon soul.’”

“Souls?” Julia had never thought about such things. “But the war between humans and demons…”

“Yes. Because of language barriers, differences in appearance, opposing nations, and mountains of old grudges piled up over time, you’ve fallen into endless slaughter, and suffering is born from it.”

In the distance, a dwarf miner handed freshly dug ore to a half-demon, teaching them how to distinguish different minerals. A mushroomkin followed behind an elf several heads shorter, listening as she explained how to select alchemical ingredients.

“But here, it’s different. Here, you are all just residents of the Mushroom Garden.”

Guided by Twelve, Julia stared blankly at these scenes of different races living and working together, boundaries broken.

Twelve continued, “Imagine this—if dwarves, elves, humans, demons, and even the merfolk and fishfolk of the deep seas… if all intelligent beings in the world became residents of the Mushroom Garden…”

“A world… without conflict…” Julia murmured.

“Exactly. That is the truth.” A soft rainbow sheen spread across Twelve’s mushroom cap, as if echoing the vision. “Not merely protecting you from hunger and cold, but erasing all strife, bringing to this world… eternal peace.”

Julia seemed to see a future where her husband no longer had to don cold armor and march onto battlefields of uncertain life and death; where children could grow up without hunger or fear; where hands of different races could clasp without reservation; a world where all intelligent life could smile in peace.

Before this, her gratitude toward the Puji God had been simple and concrete.

She was grateful that He had let her husband return alive from the mountains of corpses and seas of blood in Dragonroar Valley. Grateful that He had filled her family’s stomachs with mushrooms. Her faith had been born from the most direct grace of survival.

But now, looking at humans and demons laboring and living together before her eyes—like a miniature version of the world Twelve described—and having personally tasted the bitterness of war, tears flowed down her face without her realizing it.

Twelve did not interrupt her emotion. It simply gently took her hand with its tentacle and continued leading her through the various caverns.

Naturally, it carefully avoided areas that were unfavorable to showcasing the “benevolence of the Puji God,” such as the caverns holding D-rank personnel, or the arenas echoing with roars and crashes.

That long speech about “eternal peace” was almost entirely taken from a script Lin Jun had prepared in advance, with a bit of improvisation added on top.

Lin Jun hoped that through this shaping process, Julia’s faith would shift away from simple gratitude based on personal gain and loss, toward a grander, firmer ideal.

A noble goal and a beautiful vision were indispensable for consolidating faith.

It was similar to the “afterlife” spoken of by the Hand of Transmigration—but Lin Jun offered something far more tangible: a beautiful future that could be seen and even the Mushroom Garden itself as a living example.

And it wasn’t exactly a lie.

Although Lin Jun spread the fungal carpet and parasitized various races to strengthen himself and live more freely and happily, if one day his fungal carpet truly covered every corner of the world and achieved symbiosis with everyone, then eliminating war would indeed be a simple matter of intent—by directly strangling any existence that tried to ignite it.

Of course, that was assuming the world-ending crisis could be overcome.

As for the truth behind that crisis, there was no need to tell Julia.

For now, this was merely an observational experiment about faith.

After touring the various caverns and even interacting with some residents, Twelve brought the still-immersed Julia back to the cell.

With the help of Charm and fungal network navigation, no one even realized Julia had been gone for most of the day.

Even Julia herself, when she sat back down on the cold hay mat, felt as though what she had just seen had been an overly beautiful dream.

“Wait peacefully. You won’t be confined here for long,” Twelve’s voice sounded gently within the fungal network. “You are someone chosen by the Fungus Lord. If needed, call my number through the fungal network at any time.”

Before leaving, it even fed her a sip of the pre-prepared water of life.

Julia knelt before the fungal carpet, watching Twelve depart in this special way. She clasped her hands before her chest.

“Praise the Fungus Lord.”