This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms

In the courtyard, Nova looked at the black-robed man Night Owl had brought back, his brow tightly furrowed.

“Night Owl, I know you were just trying your luck, but this…”

The man stood half a step behind Night Owl, wrapped in an old cloak. The fabric was rough, its edges frayed and worn.

His posture was slightly awkward, shoulders drawn in, as if he were instinctively trying to hide himself in the shadows. Every movement carried a lingering air of furtiveness.

The hood cast deep shadows over most of his face, revealing only the lower half. His skin was a sickly wax-yellow from long-term lack of sunlight, and his unkempt beard grew in uneven patches along his jaw.

There were traces of mycelium on his face—clearly marking him as a puji tamer—yet strangely, there was no puji at his side.

Most unsettling were his eyes. From beneath the hood, his gaze would occasionally flick out, quickly sweeping over the courtyard and Nova’s face. There was no openness in those eyes, only calculation and appraisal.

Even without saying a word, the man radiated an unmistakable sense of being untrustworthy.

Nova’s judgment wasn’t wrong. This man was a D-rank operative named Okas. Completing missions was his only way to survive.

Even this opportunity—one mistake away from death—had been something he’d fought for in the arena, using wit to defeat a monster and earn himself a chance.

Facing Nova’s suspicion, Night Owl shrugged. “I don’t really trust him either. But he says he has a way.”

None of them found it strange that the man knew about Ivan’s condition.

They had been living here for months, seeking doctors and remedies everywhere. News spreading in certain circles was hardly surprising.

It was just that…

“Another con artist trying to swindle money?” The half-dragon Gar clenched his massive fist, the knuckles giving off a faint cracking sound. His tone was openly hostile.

They had seen far too many so-called “experts” recently—people claiming they had a method, or that it was worth a try. Nine out of ten were frauds after their gold.

With the discernment honed through years of adventuring, the Silver Thorn squad was not easily fooled. Most clumsy liars ended up experiencing the weight of Gar’s fists firsthand.

As Gar advanced step by step, his towering frame exuding palpable pressure, Okas—who had seen true hell—felt strangely calm.

He let out a hoarse chuckle and said just two sentences.

“I don’t want money.”

“If it doesn’t work, I can leave my life behind.”

Gar halted and glanced back at Nova, silently asking for his judgment.

Nova stared coldly at Okas. “Do you think we wouldn’t dare kill someone inside the city?”

Even though they had lost Redstone City, given their status, killing a swindler with cause wouldn’t be a big deal—at worst, it would just cost some money to smooth things over.

“No. I believe you would. And I mean what I say,” Okas replied, meeting Nova’s gaze directly.

Nova could see it. That look was serious.

Almost excessively so—like he wasn’t here to save Ivan, but to save himself…

“How do you plan to do it?” Nova stepped aside, gesturing for Okas to speak more freely.

Okas didn’t sit down. Instead, he carefully took out two items from the inside of his cloak: a sharp dagger, and a crystal vial filled with a clear liquid.

“First, he needs to become a puji tamer.”

The others weren’t particularly surprised by this suggestion.

The vitality of puji tamers was well known. They themselves had considered this approach.

However, the life force provided by mycelium only strengthened the body. After confirming that Ivan’s condition was purely mental, they had abandoned this option.

If Okas was suggesting becoming a puji tamer to enhance physical endurance in preparation for later treatment, that part at least made sense.

But that potion…

A hand emerged from the shadows. Night Owl smoothly snatched the sealed crystal vial from Okas’s grasp.

With Okas barely at gold-tier strength, he was utterly powerless before the Silver Thorn squad.

Nova stepped forward first. Mana gathered at his fingertips as he cast two mid-tier spells in succession to detect poison and curses. The light washed over the vial without triggering any abnormal reaction.

Only after confirming the absence of obvious malicious substances did Night Owl use a thin needle to dip out a tiny drop and lightly touch it to her tongue.

She rarely used poison, but that didn’t mean she was inexperienced. Her resistances were high enough that she dared to test it personally.

Okas said nothing, calmly watching the elven woman.

To be honest, he didn’t really know what the potion was either. He only guessed it was some kind of healing concoction.

He felt a trace of nervousness—but remained outwardly composed.

“Tch—!”

Night Owl suddenly sucked in a sharp breath. Her entire body tensed, as if struck by a jolt of electricity.

The next moment, she instinctively dissolved into a blur of shadow and sank straight into the darkness beneath her feet, vanishing.

“Night Owl?” Nova exclaimed, already gripping his staff.

“You bastard!” Gar roared, seizing Okas by the throat and lifting him into the air like a chick.

Under the terrifying grip of the half-dragon, Okas’s face quickly flushed red, his eyes bulging. His legs kicked uselessly, his throat only able to emit choking gurgles. With just a bit more force, Gar could crush his neck on the spot.

“Wait! Gar, wait!” Night Owl’s voice rang out urgently from a shadow near the wall.

She reformed her body, her complexion unusually flushed. Her chest rose and fell slightly, breathing a bit heavy—but her eyes were shining brightly.

“I’m fine! Just… wasn’t used to it at first.”

After quickly stopping Gar from killing Okas, Nova asked, “What exactly happened? What was that?”

Night Owl shook her head, savoring the lingering sensation as she licked her lips. “I don’t know the exact formula, but it’s a massive tonic. Extremely pure life energy. And… it feels like the forest. Like standing deep in the oldest woods after rain—soil, leaves, and some kind of… tranquil vitality. I like it. I really like it.”

“The forest?” Nova and Gar exchanged puzzled looks.

Elves were far more sensitive to natural forces than other races. While they couldn’t fully grasp Night Owl’s description, words like “massive tonic” and “pure life energy,” along with her visibly energized state, were more than enough to prove that the potion was not only harmless, but extraordinarily precious.

In an instant, the previously shifty-looking Okas gained an air of unfathomable depth in the eyes of the Silver Thorn squad.

Gar scratched his head awkwardly, stepped forward, and helped the still-gasping Okas up, pressing him into a chair. His huge fan-like hand carefully—but clumsily—massaged Okas’s shoulders and neck as he apologized in a rumbling voice.

“Uh… sorry about that, brother. I got carried away.”

Nova also spoke up from the side. “Please forgive us. That potion… is indeed remarkable.”

Night Owl leaned in as well, eyes shining as she stared at Okas. “Do you have more of it? Where did you get it from? I’m willing to pay a high price—very high!”

It took Okas a while to finally catch his breath. Clear purple bruises from Gar’s fingers were already visible around his neck.

In the past, treatment like this would have filled him with hatred, waiting for a chance to take revenge a hundredfold.

But now…

He touched his burning neck, feeling oddly calm.

He had merely almost been strangled to death. Not a big deal.

After all, he still had a task assigned by that terrifying being known as “Boss.”

Boss had promised that as long as he completed this mission, he could leave that nightmare cave and live comfortably and safely in the Fungal Fortress for an entire year.

Forget “good days.” Even being locked in a cell in the Fungal Fortress would be a dream come true, as long as it meant escaping that place.

This was the only chance he had clawed out from among countless equally desperate D-rank operatives, using schemes, endurance, and a bit of luck. How could he give it up over a little rough handling?

He smiled, told Gar not to worry, and said he understood.

To Night Owl, he regretfully explained that this precious potion was limited to this single bottle—there was no more.

Finally, he calmly refused Nova’s offer of compensation. This one was sincere—contribution points in the mushroom garden were the true currency.

“I already said it. I don’t want money,” Okas repeated, his gaze sweeping over the three of them. “If I really wake this mage, I want your Silver Thorn squad to owe us a favor.”

In certain circumstances, a favor was far more valuable than clearly priced gold—provided Ivan was truly saved.

Okas’s demand for a favor rather than money made Nova believe he had at least some confidence.

Nova asked one final question. “You are…?”

“Church of the Mushroom.”

The Church of the Mushroom… a small sect that had recently emerged around Mordu. Its teachings of worshipping puji had seemed rather absurd, and it had circulated as a curiosity in adventurer taverns not long ago. They had heard of it.

Could this seemingly ridiculous sect really harbor capable individuals?

They didn’t know that the true leader was still sitting in Mordu’s prison, and that Okas was merely acting under a borrowed banner.

As for making a deal with something that sounded suspiciously like a cult… there were no devout Light God priests in their team. As long as Ivan could be saved, it didn’t matter who they traded with.

Nova exchanged glances with the other two, then nodded solemnly on behalf of the team.

“Fine. If you wake Ivan, the Silver Thorn squad will owe the Church of the Mushroom a favor.”

The tension in Okas’s heart finally eased.

He didn’t care about the Silver Thorn squad’s favor at all.

It was just a price tossed out to earn their trust.

As long as he completed the mission and escaped his suffering, he would gladly pay instead!

Next, following instructions, Okas carried out mycelial parasitism on the comatose Ivan.

After that, he fed him the diluted Life Water from the vial.

Vast, pure vitality surged through Ivan’s body. The mage’s complexion, pale from months of lying in bed, visibly regained color. His physical condition even looked better than before he had fallen unconscious.

The remaining mental issues were no longer Okas’s responsibility.

The next day, he brought No. 10 puji—who had already completed mental ascension—to the Silver Thorn squad’s courtyard.