The forest was pitch-black.

Dilan clutched a torch, shouting hoarsely,

“Bella! Bella, where are you? Answer Papa!”

“Dad… Dad…”

A faint voice. Dilan pushed through the brush, finding his daughter slumped against a tree, blood soaking her body.

“Bella! You’re hurt so badly!

Don’t be afraid—Papa’s here, Papa’s here.”

Tears streamed as he embraced his weakened child.

“Papa, I… I…”

“I’m here, sweetheart. Take your time.”

“Papa…” Bella wrapped her arms around his neck, scarlet eyes opening wide. “I’m so hungry…”

Her fangs sank into his throat. Blood spurted.

Through dimming sight, Dilan saw her weeping as she swallowed his flesh.

———

“Ah!”

Dilan jolted awake, gasping for breath.

A dream. Just a dream…

Where was he?

He looked up—at a puffshroom, waddling away with clear distaste.

A monster… a mutated puffshroom…

Memory returned: the Parasitic Trees, his desperate flight.

Now he saw their corpses sprawled across the floor, sprouting mushrooms.

Not just the five that had chased him—far more.

Could… could these puffshrooms have killed them?

It seemed impossible. Even mutated puffshrooms shouldn’t manage that.

Yet his blurred memory before collapse… and this carnage… pointed to one truth.

This was the hidden chamber. He saw the opened stone chest.

So it had been a treasure room.

And these puffshrooms—likely its guardians.

Yet they showed no hostility. Stranger still, he felt… comfortable around them. As if it was natural.

So strange…

Right—his wound!

Dilan touched his abdomen. The mortal gash was gone.

But in its place—fungal mycelium sealing the flesh. From it, a tiny mushroom sprouted.

His heart lurched.

He had seen this before—on people parasitized by the Trees.

No wonder the puffshrooms ignored him. No wonder he felt kinship.

He had been parasitized.

But his mind remained clear. Not shackled like the Trees’ victims.

So… before total control took him, he still had time.

His eyes turned to the corpses. Seeds still clung to their husks.

A bold thought rose.

His life didn’t matter. Nor whether he would be consumed.

He just needed money—to save Bella. If he ran out of time, he would entrust Fatty to save her in his stead.

But first—he needed to return to the surface, with these seeds.

He crawled to a carcass, plucked a seed, stuffed it into his shirt.

The puffshrooms didn’t react.

Relieved, he harvested them all.

Enough. This haul would be worth plenty.

Clutching the seeds, he turned back at the door.

The puffshrooms hadn’t moved.

So strange…

———

From start to finish, Lin Jun had never spoken a word to him.

Even though Dilan was now woven into his fungal web.

Saving him was principle. Trust was not.

Dilan was indeed parasitized, teetering at the brink.

With a thought, Lin Jun could erase his mind entirely—make him a puppet.

But that contradicted why he had saved him.

So he let it go. He’d saved his life, given him seeds. Their debts were even. What followed was not his concern.

Still… if Dilan had risked everything for these seeds, maybe they had value.

Should he stockpile some himself?

They might be useful later. Decomposed, they barely yielded scraps of mana—but who knew?

During Dilan’s coma, Lin Jun had taken puffshrooms on a hunt.

By comparing levels, he confirmed this was the 5th floor.

That teleport maze was absurd—dumping him from the 8th floor straight here. Did some lead even deeper, to the 10th or beyond?

Best not to think about it. He quietly marked the 8th floor as “Extreme Danger.”

Now, the priority was choosing a new mushroom garden.

The treasure room’s mana pool was gone. Without it, the place had little value.

And dungeons didn’t like loopholes. If he lingered, some mechanism might trigger, and then he’d be trapped.

As for rushing all the way out to sunlight?

He wanted to—but dared not.

The sole exit would be crawling with humans, maybe strong ones.

He wouldn’t risk dying on the cusp of dawn.

Better to be patient. Now that hope was in sight, he could endure.

The swamp here was promising:

⚔️ Adventurers avoided its treacherous ground. Even if they entered, they moved slowly.

🍄 Puffshrooms, being shell-less, moved through it like solid earth.

🌑 He could bury his true body deep beneath the mire, hidden safely.

The only issue—the locals.

He had underestimated the Trees at first. But outside, he’d fought hard.

They fought in packs, shamelessly swarming.

Worse, they wielded the skills of their hosts.

He had nearly lost puffshrooms to a Tree parasitizing a Level 36 mage. One mistake, and he paid dearly.

He hadn’t expected such powerful hosts to fall here.

What if a Tree had parasitized someone in the fifties? …No, surely not… right?

But most importantly—their loot was poor.

Trees themselves only had basic skills: 【Fusion Parasite】, 【Bind】, 【Tenacity】, and resistances.

The hosts’ diverse spells couldn’t be plundered. Their bodies yielded almost no mana—drained dry.

The risk-to-reward was abysmal.

But… if it was for territory—then maybe worthwhile.

Yes. He would claim this swamp.

Once he bred puffshrooms suited for the mire, the conquest would begin.