This Dungeon Grew Mushrooms - Chapter 588

Lin Jun naturally wasn’t going to crush D-rank personnel to death every time he trained Soul Touch.

The ten who died earlier were merely special cases, sacrificed so he could fully understand the skill’s effects.

Under normal circumstances, proper training meant damaging a small portion of the soul, waiting for it to recover, then damaging another small portion—draining things in a sustainable, long-term manner.

Because of this, the more D-rank personnel there were, the faster the training would progress.

In the past, following the principle of sourcing materials locally, only criminals from Mordu itself were eligible to be recruited as D-rank personnel.

Other cities were simply too far from the dungeon. Even if people were captured, transporting them back would be troublesome.

Aside from Mordu, this stable “talent supply market,” there were occasionally spies sent by the Empire to the northern border who fell into the net, becoming extra gains.

However, only a small portion of those were turned into D-rank personnel. Most, after taking on a debt of contribution points, were assigned to labor reform teams instead.

After all, coming to scout was often just following orders, and didn’t necessarily mean the person was irredeemably evil.

So long as his core interests weren’t touched, Lin Jun had always maintained a fairly high moral standard.

Now, with the demand for D-rank personnel increasing, Lin Jun found himself somewhat troubled.

Expand recruitment to other cities around Mordu?

Transportation immediately became a problem.

Moving people on the surface was definitely unsafe. If discovered, the harmless image Lin Jun had carefully built for puji would completely collapse.

The underground tunnel network was safe, but there was no way to stuff people through it.

Hm… they could be transformed into puji first, then shoved through.

Lin Jun did know transformation magic, but casting it required sustained concentration. Over long distances, he might even have to recast it halfway.

He didn’t have the time to waste every day on something like that.

If he handed it over to subordinates, that was also an issue. Lin Jun had very few human followers to begin with.

Those absorbed in the northern border were mostly former imperial slaves. In the United Kingdom’s records, they were either listed as missing or didn’t exist at all, making it difficult for them to move freely within the kingdom.

After thinking it over, the Mushroom Cult might be able to shoulder this responsibility.

Unfortunately, the cult was still in its infancy. They’d have to wait until Inanna’s delegation returned before releasing the cult leader, who was still imprisoned and “seeking enlightenment,” and only then could real development begin.

At least for now, they were of no use.

And Lin Jun couldn’t afford to delay training his skill.

Thinking it through again, it seemed he could only look to the Empire.

The elves lived close to the Divine Wood Dungeon, and the fungal carpet had already spread there, but truly scum-level individuals within elven society were exceedingly rare.

The only ones that could be called villains—the Ark members—had either long since become D-rank personnel or had been captured by the elves themselves and thrown into prison.

On top of that, because elven populations were precious, every individual had detailed records. If someone went missing, it would definitely be investigated.

No matter how one looked at it, the Elven Forest was unsuitable for sourcing D-rank personnel.

As for the dwarves, not only had the fungal carpet not spread there, even if people were captured, transporting them would be a nightmare. Naturally, that option was discarded.

Which left the Empire.

Although all dukes pledged loyalty to the emperor, from Sigismund’s perspective, the emperor’s actual control over the Empire was quite weak.

Border lords like Sigismund, so long as they didn’t seriously contemplate rebellion, effectively enjoyed near-absolute autonomy within their own territories.

The major dukes didn’t interfere with one another, each maintaining clear and rigid boundaries.

While there were restrictions on the lower population, movement could never be fully prevented.

Combined with the Empire’s culture of valuing martial strength and cruelty, vicious incidents occurred one after another. Every day, many demons died in private duels, and even more lives quietly vanished into the shadows.

With multiple factors overlapping, household registration management had become almost meaningless—far more chaotic than in the United Kingdom.

In Lin Jun’s view, the Empire’s problems went far beyond just registration issues. Or rather, registration was among the least important of them.

From afar, this colossal empire looked majestic and imposing. Up close, it was riddled with cracks and blockages.

In a world without supernatural power, such an empire would have collapsed long ago.

It was only in a strength-above-all world like this that it could remain fused together under the emperor’s suppression, even becoming the strongest force on the continent.

But that internal chaos undoubtedly gave Lin Jun opportunities to absorb talent.

Little Xi’s territory was the easiest to operate in, but it lay inland and wasn’t geographically suitable.

If sourcing from the Empire, the destination would inevitably be the northern border, which had nothing to do with Little Xi.

That meant choosing either border cities or sea routes.

By coincidence, Arinno’s territory lay along the coast, and Thirteen had already been delivered into her service.

That female vampire wasn’t particularly sharp. Operating under her nose shouldn’t be too difficult.

After Thirteen arrived, she spared no expense, using a high-tier contract artifact to take Thirteen as a demonic familiar. Then, behind the emperor’s back, she began laying down fungal carpet and cultivating puji mages.

Unfortunately for her, tools meant to control others through the mind were, to Lin Jun and the mushroom kin, no better than shackles folded from paper.

They looked secure, but breaking free only took a single thought.

However, using the sea route meant inevitably dealing with Qis.

Even if he didn’t wipe Qis out directly, he at least needed to first assemble a transport escort force capable of self-defense.

That, too, would take time to produce…

At the end of the day, there was still no way around it—poking himself to level up was far more efficient. Hundreds or even thousands of D-rank personnel couldn’t compare to his own soul, which was stronger and recovered faster.

While the issue of D-rank personnel remained unresolved, another kind of talent arrived on its own.

…

Cold winds swept across the desolate northwestern border of the mountains.

Two young dwarves trudged across the barren land, their figures looking especially small against the wasteland. A thin layer of frost clung to their heavy fur coats. On their backs, each carried the tools of their trade—a forging hammer and a long-handled pair of tongs.

Walking in front, Gaddin tightened his collar and spoke in a muffled voice, “This damn weather… it’s even colder than I heard.”

“Cold, sure, but still bearable,” Pollock replied, glancing around. “What I want to know is—weren’t we supposed to be met once we reached this area? Where’s the reception?”

They were two of the blacksmith apprentices selected by Lin Jun back in Ashfurnace City. After the other dwarves sold the A-rank magic crystal left behind by the knight puji and split the money, some bought ore to practice with, while others bought shops and settled down.

Only the two of them exchanged all their shares for rations and travel expenses, heading north.

All because they held onto a sliver of hope.

They hoped that puji hadn’t lied, and that the north truly held a blacksmith’s paradise where they could practice without restraint.

“It’s a scam! Once you get there, the demons will capture you and turn you into slaves. And once you’re a slave, you’ll just swing a hammer until you die!” More than one clansman had said that to them along the way.

But remembering how puji had casually tossed them that A-rank magic crystal, Pollock and Gaddin kept encouraging each other as they traveled, imagining all kinds of reasons why the “blacksmith’s paradise” might really exist.

And then, they arrived here.

No ore veins. No geothermal fire. Not even the shadow of a shack—let alone anyone waiting to receive them.

Only endless snow-dusted land and frost-killed branches.

“We might… really have been fooled,” Pollock said softly.

A stronger gust of wind swept past, kicking up snow.

Gaddin suddenly shivered—not from the cold.

“This doesn’t make sense! If there’s no one to receive us, there should at least be demons waiting for us to fall into a trap! Otherwise, why would that puji throw us such a valuable A-rank magic crystal? Just to mess with us?”

As Gaddin finished speaking—

Rattle, rattle—

A faint sound instantly put both dwarves on edge.

They pressed their backs together, gripping their hammers tightly.

These tools were for forging, but they could just as easily smash in an enemy’s skull.

Gaddin might have talked bravely earlier, but he had no desire to be dragged off by demons and turned into a slave.

Pop—

This time, they clearly heard where the sound came from and turned their heads together.

A puji, its mushroom cap covered in snow, was struggling to wriggle out of a cave entrance…