But when he checked his personal panel in the Adventurer’s Manual, there was no visible change in his attribute values.

Forget it.

Even if it was a hallucination, at least as pure food he’d thoroughly enjoyed it.

“How do you feel after eating? Any side effects?”

Gauss looked at Alia as she stood up beside him and asked.

Alia touched her stomach, carefully sensed how her body felt, then shook her head.

“Other than being stuffed, I don’t seem to have the unpleasant symptoms I had before.”

She’d been braced for the mouth numbness and full-body chills she’d gotten from frogs and snakes before. To her surprise, this higher-tier elite monster actually felt gentler to eat.

“In that case, mimics are pretty suitable to promote as a normal ingredient,” Gauss mused, rubbing his chin.

“Promote it? Mimics are way too dangerous—and a pain to process.” Alia could only protest weakly.

However easy Gauss had made it look, the mimic’s challenge rating was still around Level 2. With its unique disguise, your average adventurer wasn’t its match. And they usually only appear in labyrinths—ordinary folk would never see one.

In a place full of hazards, how many people would still be thinking about their appetite after beating a mimic? Probably only monster-gourmets like Gauss.

“Forget it—let’s keep exploring,” Gauss said, dropping the topic.

He packed the newly cleaned chest shell and those two rows of sharp teeth into his pouch. The chest body itself could hold other supplies, so it didn’t take much extra space. Given the hardness of the shell and fangs, they were valuable trophies; he certainly wasn’t leaving them behind.

They poked around the platform a bit longer and pried a few ancient silver coins from between the tiles. Satisfied, they climbed back up the way they’d come, using the vines and ledges on the far side. Ulfen followed with a few powerful bounding jumps from ledge to ledge, landing steadily beside them.

Fed and watered, the party set off again.

Gauss refreshed the Omni-Armor on himself, Alia, Ulfen, and Echo. It was a habit he’d developed outdoors: a little before the old ward expired, he’d dismiss it and put up a new one. It cost mana, but minimized the risk of being ambushed during a gap in protection. Besides, the mimic tongue was still trickling nutrients and energy through his system.

Their steps were lighter and stronger as they threaded through the lush second floor.

Crack!

Gauss snapped back a step, quick as a whip. An instant later, a wall smothered in creeping ivy snapped shut a set of saw-toothed leaves like a giant flytrap, the jagged edges still quivering.

“Knew it, heh.”

After half a day in floor two, Gauss could more or less predict which nooks hid ambushers like this. This seemingly dreamy forested space hid countless dangers beneath its beauty—aggressive plants of every kind and all manner of insects—far nastier than the barren first floor.

He couldn’t help thinking of the low-level team outside that had been ambushed at dawn. Even after finding the entrance to the second floor, they’d had the sense not to go down—that really was wise.

From what he knew now, a team of non-professionals would be hard-pressed to get out of here unscathed. Down here, even low-tier monsters were both well hidden and highly aggressive.

No wonder the Labyrinth Guide recommended only first floor for novices, and clearly advised that floor two and below were for full-fledged professionals.

“Magic Missile!”

He backed up a few paces to a safe distance, tapped his staff at the plant’s root where it anchored into the rock, and a sapphire bolt slammed in.

Boom!

The road-blocking flytrap blew apart; green stems and viscous sap splattered everywhere.

“Carnivorous Plant Slain ×1.”

“Total Monsters Kill: 1501.”

With that kill he unlocked the 25th ordinary monster entry—numbered thus because he’d already slain a Giant Beetle on the way and unlocked entry 24.

[New Title Earned: ‘Carnivorous Plant Hunter.’]. This title will upgrade as your kill count rises.

[Current Effect: Bane…]

All in all, if spotted in advance, most plant-type trash mobs weren’t hard to deal with. Even without ranged spells, a moderately long weapon aimed at the root could end them—if you spotted them first. That was key. Gauss was feeling more and more how important Perception was in a labyrinth.

He glanced at the Horn Bangle on his wrist; his earlier inclination to sell it was tilting toward keeping it—at least while he was dungeon-delving. With it, he could avoid a lot of danger in advance and sniff out extra loot. He could always sell it later.

Passing the plant’s remains, Gauss checked carefully and found nothing of value. After a moment’s hesitation, he snipped off several unknown spherical pods—fruit or seed, who could say—and stowed them.

They pushed on, foliage rustling as they parted it.

“Another signpost.”

They reached a hall-like clearing. An old, familiar signpost stood there, its surface carved with inscrutable letters, and beside it a simple stone bench. They’d been walking a while, so they sat to rest.

From his recent experience, Gauss realized that after eating mimic meat he did get a temporary buff—strength and stamina up for about two hours. Maybe with long-term consumption, under the storage gland’s influence, it could subtly improve his physique? He had a vague hunch.

“Gauss, look over there.” Seated, Alia glanced around, then turned and spotted a peculiar structure behind them. Gauss followed her gaze.

There, a dark-green pavilion—more like an oversized birdcage woven of dense greenery—stood quietly, wreathed in a hazy film of emerald energy that made it hard to see clearly from a distance.

What was that?