Dusk fell. At the Pujis House, Bianca moved nimbly with several Pujis and quickly tidied the kitchen spotless; pots and pans returned to their places.

Then, as usual, she had the finished Pujis line up and one by one run into the little shed in the backyard where the Mycelium Carpet had been laid to rest, leaving only a single Pujis trailing obediently behind her.

As the Pujis ran, a faint “thump-thump” could be heard from within its body — the leftover delicious mushroom soup from the shop that owner Dylan had allowed her to take home.

“Boss, everything’s cleaned up. I’m heading back first!” Bianca called toward the counter in a cheerful voice.

“Wait, Bianca, today I—” Dylan, bending under the counter to tidy up, hurriedly straightened and started to speak, but found Bianca already gone; only the sight of the short, round Pujis’ stubby legs flashed past the inn’s door.

“Tsk… young people these days, always in such a hurry.” Dylan shook his head helplessly.

Big Bro had given him a new skill through the Mycelium Network yesterday and told him to “stock up on something” at Bianca’s house today, though he hadn’t specified what. He had intended to go together with Bianca so he’d have an excuse, but she’d slipped away so fast.

Still, he did know where Bianca lived, so he could go by himself. After a moment’s thought, he felt it improper to show up empty-handed and took a small sack of sun-dried tasty mushrooms from the shelf.

With the mushroom fields expanding, these ordinary tasty mushrooms had shifted from luxury to an affordable snack — still a bit pricey, but within reach. Given Bianca’s wages, she could probably afford one occasionally, but she was thrifty; this small gift from her boss would be just right.

Pocketing the little present, Dylan strolled toward the resettlement area in the northwest of Mordu.

…

Meanwhile, Bianca hurried through the busy streets where lamps were being lit. She kept her pace measured so the Pujis carrying the soup could keep up. Along the way she passed other Pujis masters with one or two Pujis trailing them.

But once she turned into the resettlement district, such scenes nearly vanished. The resettlement zone had originally been carved out by Fahl to quickly accommodate war refugees. Living costs were extremely low, and the conditions matched that price.

Rows of elongated prefabricated houses stretched out, crowded. A small room might be crammed with a dozen or even twenty people. As Mordu stabilized and the hardest times passed, anyone with means had moved out to better quarters; the resettlement area had inevitably slipped toward becoming a slum.

Although Bianca had found steady work at the Pujis House early on and earned a stable wage, her mother had been sick and needed continuous medication, leaving little left to save for moving. After months of careful treatment, her mother’s health had improved, and Bianca’s pay rose after becoming a Pujis master. Having just received this month’s wages, she felt it might finally be time to bring her mother somewhere more comfortable — the thought made her step lighter.

But when she ran home, she found some familiar and hateful figures blocking the thin wooden door. She stopped, intending to turn away, but they had already spotted her.

The lanky leader, wearing a fake smile, stepped forward. “Oh, Little Bianca’s back? Perfect — saves us the trouble of going in to disturb your mother.” He rubbed his fingers. “Monthly interest is due, right?”

“We already paid the agreed interest!” Bianca’s voice trembled with anger.

“You paid?” The lanky man sneered and pulled a crumpled, smudged parchment from his chest, waving it open. “It’s written in black and white: ‘Interest paid weekly until the principal is repaid.’ Can’t read? You put your mark back then!”

“You didn’t say that at the time!” Bianca snapped, furious. “The interest was supposed to be monthly — the rest you just added!”

Neighbors heard the commotion and quietly shut their windows or watched from shadowed corners; no one dared step forward. Everyone knew these people were a newly risen gang in Mordu, preying on the poor and refugees — crossing them never ended well.

“Don’t talk nonsense, kid,” the lanky man stepped closer. “Can’t pay? I’ve got a job to earn you the money…” He hesitated when he noticed the faint mycelial traces on Bianca’s face, then abruptly shoved her: “Cut the crap! Do you have the money or not?”

Bianca stumbled and knocked into the Pujis following her. The round Pujis tipped over, mushroom soup sloshing out with a splash, and the money pouch she’d been clutching fell free; silver and copper coins spilled across the ground, glinting dimly in the low light.

The lanky man’s eyes lit up; he bent and snatched the pouch, weighing it with satisfaction. “Heh — hiding money, are we? Fine, this will count as this month’s interest. The rest, you better gather soon, or next time won’t be so nice.”

“That’s my money! Give it back!” Bianca lunged to reclaim the pouch, even trying to bite the dirty hand.

“Bianca! Don’t!” Her mother rushed out and grabbed her from behind, voice breaking, “Don’t be rash! Don’t!”

The lanky man, startled by Bianca’s sudden ferocity, then furious at being embarrassed, snarled, “You dare touch me? Looks like you need a lesson in manners!”

“Ah — so it’s this kind of scum…”

An unexpected voice drew everyone’s attention.

“Boss…?” Bianca blinked and saw Dylan.

“You ran too fast; take this. It was meant for you anyway.” Dylan stepped forward as if oblivious to the tense scene and handed Bianca the sack of dried mushrooms.

“T-thank you… we can return this tomorrow…” Bianca was at a loss.

“Don’t worry. Maybe it’s providence — now it can help settle things.” Dylan smiled gently.

The lanky man, affronted that Dylan paid them no heed, snapped, “Hey! Old man, who are you? Interfering now?”

“Old man… tsk… how much does your shop girl owe you? I’ll pay it.” Dylan pulled out a substantial-looking money pouch.

At the word “paying,” the lanky man’s eyes brightened. He sized up Dylan’s clothes and bearing, then grinned and said loudly, “Not much — still two gold coins short!”

“That’s a lie!” Bianca retorted angrily from behind.

Before the lanky man could glare further, Dylan calmly produced a shiny gold coin and handed it over.

“Friends, let’s discuss the details privately.” Dylan slung the lanky man’s shoulder and led him a few steps away from the crowd, turning his back on Bianca and her mother.

When the lanky man’s gaze flicked to Dylan’s eyes, he felt a faint wash of violet within those pupils. Dylan lowered his voice as if sharing a secret: “Went out in a hurry, didn’t bring enough coins. Tonight, bring a few more brothers to this spot…” He named a relatively secluded place near the Pujis dungeon entrance. “When the time comes, even ten coins will be there.”

Dazed by Dylan’s steady stare, the lanky man nodded automatically. “Ah? O—okay… If there’s gold, I’ll bring the boys tonight!”

Watching them swagger away clutching the coin pouch, Bianca clutched the sack of dried mushrooms, both grateful and resentful. “Boss… you really gave them the money?” she asked.

Dylan couldn’t tell her that not a penny had been spent and that he’d actually earn a bit more from the night’s arrangement. He simply smiled and patted her head, offering the ordinary comfort: “Losing some money avoids disaster. People being safe is what matters. Don’t take it to heart.”

“Boss…!” Bianca’s bottled-up grievances, fear, and the sudden relief of shelter broke loose; she threw her arms around Dylan’s neck and sobbed softly. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ NoveIꜰire.net

Her mother dabbed her eyes and thanked Dylan profusely, nearly dropping to her knees.

The Pujis that had been knocked over, ignored by everyone, slowly struggled up from the sticky soup and shuffled back to stand behind Bianca.