Elinore waved her hand generously, handing over the management rights of nearly half of the Blood Livestock Factories to No. 13's tentacles.
What she didn't know was that even if she hadn't come looking for No. 13, No. 13 would have actively gone to her to propose this project after a while anyway.
After all, this was the task the Mushroom Lord gave it!
However, if No. 13 proposed it proactively, it wouldn't have seemed as completely natural as it did now.
Having obtained the authority, No. 13 didn't hold back. It immediately began parasitizing subjects, while also not forgetting the true task given to it by the Mushroom Lord—spreading the Puchi faith!
...
"Blood livestock" didn't solely refer to captured humans.
Deep within the factory, those imprisoned figures came from every corner of the continent.
Humans huddled in narrow cubicles, the hunched bodies of dwarves were fixed to stone slabs with chains, and the thick limbs of beastmen hung down weakly.
There were even a few lizardmen with unfocused vertical pupils and dull scales. Demons here were no different from other foreign races.
Deeper inside the water tanks, there were even figures of mermaids and murlocs.
They were fixed in place, unable to lie down or stand straight. One meal a day was forcibly poured down their throats by the factory management.
It was a gray paste, mixed with basic nutrients to sustain life, as well as dozens of potions: hematopoietic (blood-making) potions, weakening potions, tranquilizers...
These potions were not the regular, regulated products sold in apothecary shops. Each had significant side effects, and mixing them together would drastically overdraw the user's physical potential.
And all of this was so they could continuously produce blood.
Here, the average lifespan of blood livestock was five to seven years.
Elves lived slightly longer, but wouldn't exceed ten years.
For long-lived species that could live over a thousand years, ten years was but an instant in a long life.
But here, ten years was the end.
Elinore never worried about this.
Wars on the continent never truly stopped. Every year, new captives flooded into the slave market; the prices were right, and the supply was abundant.
Consume a batch, then simply replenish a batch.
As for those captives labeled as "blood livestock," the nightmare began the moment they were dragged into the factory.
Their bodies were firmly bound by iron chains, shackles, or magical fetters embedded directly into their flesh.
Their eyes were blindfolded with black cloth, blocking all light.
They could no longer see each other's faces, only able to hear groans and whimpers rising and falling in the darkness.
Their daily "food" was punctually poured down their throats, carrying weakening potions that left their limbs limp, depriving them of the strength to do anything, even to seek death.
They could only live like this, continuing to produce blood in endless agony until the last drop was squeezed out, and then be buried like garbage in the mourning lily plantation near the factory.
But on this day, a trace of change appeared in their desperate lives.
Something fell onto their bodies, drilled into their skin, and grew within their flesh and blood.
Thanks to their terrible condition, there wasn't even a need to specifically control their health pools; they could be parasitized directly.
At first, the blood livestock thought this was just another new type of torture. Some were terrified, while others were simply numb.
But after being parasitized, a voice appeared in the minds of all the blood livestock.
"My name is the Mushroom Lord."
"Praise Me in your hearts, believe in Me, and I shall grant true believers a new life, escaping this sea of suffering. But remember, you must not speak My name aloud!"
Blood livestock were drowning people who had absolutely nothing. When a life-saving straw appeared before them, no matter how deliberate it seemed, the vast majority of them would grab onto it without hesitation.
They chanted "Praise the Mushroom Lord" in the mycelial network, praying to be freed from this hell; among them were no shortage of believers in the God of Light.
Miraculously, after they prayed like this in their hearts, although they didn't obtain salvation immediately, the pain they had almost become accustomed to suddenly lessened significantly.
A feeling of relaxation welled up in their hearts, and many blood livestock even rarely managed to sleep soundly.
After this, they prayed to the Mushroom Lord even more vigorously, tightly grasping this only hope.
What Lin Jun did was very simple. He added [Paralyzing Toxin LV2] to them, but didn't give them resistance. This caused them to be affected by the toxins secreted within their own bodies, dulling all kinds of pain and allowing them to briefly escape their torment.
Speaking of which, this method of use was actually inspired by Norris's initial skill experiments.
It wasn't that Lin Jun didn't want to directly turn them all into Puchis and pack them away. However, this thing called faith couldn't be conjured out of thin air; it required time to accumulate devotion.
In fact, Lin Jun discovered that the essence of a soul's adhesiveness was trust.
Theoretically, if Norris died accidentally, even though he didn't worship him, as long as he trusted him enough, Lin Jun could still stuff his soul into a Puchi.
Hmm... I've been his boss for so long, the trust should be enough, right...
Of course, Lin Jun couldn't expect everyone, especially those guys who didn't know much about him, to trust him unreservedly.
Then, faith—a type of trust with a nature of blind conformity—was very suitable for these kinds of existences.
By reducing the pain of these blood livestock, Lin Jun made them repeatedly reinforce the idea in their hearts that "believing in the Mushroom Lord will ultimately lead to salvation," eventually cultivating true faith.
In fact, the always honest Lin Jun indeed did not deceive these unlucky wretches.
Believing in him truly could get them out of this Blood Livestock Factory.
Once everyone's faith was stabilized, whether it was finding an opportunity to let them escape, or more simply, directly reincarnating them as Puchis and placing them in the Mushroom Garden, both became viable options.
Lin Jun only promised to help them escape this sea of suffering; he didn't specify in what form they would escape. Presumably, those single-mindedly wanting to obtain salvation wouldn't care about this minor detail.
Of course, not all blood livestock chose to pray.
Some overly smart guys found another "escape method" for themselves—snitching!
They tried to tell the breeders responsible for feeding them about the strange voice appearing in their minds, wanting to exchange this intel to the vampires for their own freedom.
Whether Elinore would have given these informers freedom, Lin Jun didn't know. Regardless, he wouldn't leave such an obvious loophole for them to exploit.
These informers, without exception, had their throats blocked by mushrooms growing from the inside before they could even open their mouths to utter the first word. Ultimately, they were completely parasitized into mushroom puppets, and then actively discarded by Lin Jun, becoming ordinary corpses.
Outwardly, No. 13 categorized them as failed products of the "symbiotic mutation" experiment. Elinore, obsessed with delicious blood, didn't care at all about this expected attrition.
Just like this, the Puchi faith rapidly took root and sprouted within these Blood Livestock Factories completely unnoticed by outsiders, waiting for the perfect opportunity to break through the soil.
As for No. 13, it couldn't wait to admire the despairing and remorseful expression of the high and mighty Duchess Elinore after she found out everything!
(End of Chapter)
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