Morning in Mushroom Town. Burly workers chanted, heaving massive stones onto a rising city wall.
Nearby, robed mages etched complex runes onto the built sections with special pens, adding strength and defense enchantments.
Called “workers,” these stone-haulers were at least Bronze-tier warriors, paid handsomely.
This wall stood far from the current residential zone, part of a bold plan for a city bigger than today’s, banking on future growth.
In this world, walls with layered magic arrays were vital defenses.
With enough resources and mana, they could rival Duke Alama’s famed Highfort Bastion, a shield against demon hordes.
But as a rear base, Mushroom Town’s walls prioritized detection, warning, and anti-stealth runes to counter demon spies’ relentless sabotage.
Farr hadn’t forgotten spies ruining crops. Mushroom fields couldn’t face that.
He stood hands clasped, watching construction, listening to reports on this week’s mushroom exports and profits.
Since mushrooms’ unique value surfaced, nearby towns and even the capital tried growing their own spores.
But the spores either died or barely grew, yielding no decent mushrooms.
Some guessed it tied to the local Mycelial Network linked to the dungeon.
In the end, Mushroom Town’s steady output filled huge gaps in army rations and civilian food.
After failed transplants, the capital’s plan was blunt: push Mushroom Town to scale up planting and buy up all surplus for the frontlines as a key strategic resource.
The payoff was rich.
In exchange, nobles sent stone, magic materials, skilled mages, craftsmen, and other supplies Mushroom Town needed.
But Farr saw further. The town’s economy leaned too hard on mushroom exports—too narrow, unhealthy.
He wanted the wall finished fast. Once Mushroom Town became Mushroom City, he could build a proper administrative and tax system for a stronger economy.
“President! President!” Mirabel’s urgent shout came from afar, rushing over. “You need to get to the guild now! The dungeon… something new’s up!”
The guild hall buzzed with adventurers crowding a room, whispering gossip.
Inside, Lambert sat quietly in a corner.
Nearby, guild staff operated a complex device studded with Magic Crystals, its runes glowing, projecting detailed data on his body.
This machine mimicked scouting spells but dug deeper, pinpointing skill levels and physical state.
It was costly and tedious, used only when adventurers paid to know their condition.
Lambert, finding himself “moldy,” rushed here straight from the dungeon.
Aside from looking worse, he felt fine, but who knew what those flesh-woven strands hid?
When Farr arrived, the report was ready but not yet shared with Lambert.
“President, it’s parasitic!” Mirabel hurried over, handing him the report.
“What kind? Beast? Curse spawn?” Farr asked, scanning pages.
“Not clear. Maybe a new skill. He says a Puffshroom neared him when he was near death. Tests confirm the surface and subsurface growth is mycelium.”
Farr’s face darkened.
A new parasite skill was one thing, but Puffshroom-related?
Tied to the Mycelial Network and mushrooms, any slip could spell trouble…
“Symptoms?” Farr pressed.
“Uh…” Mirabel checked the report. “Mycelium repaired his battle wounds. Also, he’s showing slight mana craving.”
Farr nodded. Parasites fixing hosts to survive made sense. Mana needs for mycelium activity checked out too.
“And?”
“That’s it.”
“What? No downsides?” That didn’t fit Farr’s view of parasites.
“The host’s mind is clear, passed all mental checks, no life drain, and the mycelium hasn’t impaired any functions. Aside from surface traces, no negative effects so far.”
“?!”
“President, how do we handle this?”
Farr paced, then stopped, issuing orders fast. “Assign someone to monitor his changes. He reports back regularly for tests, guild covers costs. Until we know more, don’t include this in reports to headquarters. Steer adventurers to blame ‘special magic array effects,’ not Puffshrooms!”
“Got it, but…” Mirabel hesitated.
Farr stared, voice low. “Mirabel, Mushroom Town—no, the United Kingdom—can’t afford to lose mushrooms! This parasite seems harmless so far. We must avoid panic over mushrooms and Puffshrooms! The front’s tight enough—if our supply falters, it’s not just one or two infections!”
He paused, adding firmly, “But don’t slack on investigating the parasite! Report any new findings to me immediately!”
Mirabel nodded, heading to talk with worried Lambert. With gold’s help, they quickly agreed.
But before dawn the next day, frantic knocking pulled Farr from bed.
Mirabel stood outside, expression odd.
“President! The infected adventurer… he just adopted two Puffshroom pets!”
“Huh?”
(End of Chapter)
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