A week after the two dwarves accidentally wandered into the Mushroom Garden.
Truth be told—Grem had to admit it: it wasn’t so bad after all.
Now, all he had to do was leisurely follow behind more than twenty pujis, directing them to transport stone blocks to designated locations.
Compared with the backbreaking days when they had to carry everything on their own shoulders, life now felt light and efficient. He could easily earn about ten contribution points a day without much effort.
The only downside was the visible traces of mycelium on his body—it looked unsettling, and made his skin crawl sometimes—but there was nothing to be done about it.
They had already tested this icy wasteland themselves. Escape was impossible.
Rescue from their kin? Even less likely. They weren’t even sure if that spatial rift still existed anymore.
Their only option was to play by the rules here—work, earn contribution points, and eventually buy their freedom.
They’d even gone to Jeff several times to confirm that the “redemption” system was real.
Jeff had given plenty of examples of nearby tribesmen.
Before the rule change, some people would deliberately trespass just to get the free Mycelium Symbiosis, gaining cold resistance and the ability to command pujis. After that, they could earn their freedom in just half a month.
Hearing that, both dwarves deeply regretted their earlier misfortune. If they hadn’t caused such a mess back then, could they have regained freedom for just a few hundred points?
Once convinced that “buying freedom” was indeed real, they gritted their teeth and agreed to undergo Mycelium Symbiosis.
After the procedure, they discovered that the unassuming Jeff was actually an elite among the captives—his control limit was twice that of an average person, which explained his B-rank status.
And once Grem himself completed symbiosis, he realized Jeff hadn’t told them the full list of benefits.
Besides being able to command pujis and withstand the cold without heavy furs, Grem also discovered a kind of “telepathic” ability—he could now communicate smoothly with demons or humans who didn’t speak Common. It was incredibly convenient.
What annoyed him most, though, was that during the process, someone claimed Torin had a natural talent for driving Jida [叽达, a puji transport unit], so his rank had been upgraded to B.
B-rank captives were given one extra “Delicious Mushroom” per meal, and that made Grem burn with envy.
Regular prisoners didn’t get those. And the price of one Delicious Mushroom, in contribution points, wasn’t cheap.
Even so, Grem still found all this bizarre. Back in the mountains, he’d only ever eaten “fine food” a few times thanks to Torin’s help—and now, in this desolate frozen land, captives could buy and eat it daily just by spending their earned points?
The contrast was almost surreal.
By now, the two dwarves had finally figured things out. This wasn’t the Demon Empire—they were in a northern faction called the Mushroom Garden.
They should’ve realized it from the weather alone, but since the northern region was sealed off within imperial territory, information rarely escaped. Ordinary dwarves like Torin and Grem had never learned much about it.
Now, at last, they understood what Jeff meant when he said he had been “traded” here.
…
Grem was focused on directing a team of pujis hauling stone when Torin tapped his shoulder.
Torin gestured for him to follow. The two dwarves walked out beyond the unfinished city walls.
There, a group of demons had arrived.
Though they were called “demons,” their fur clothing made it clear they were tribal folk from the surrounding lands, not soldiers of the Empire.
The group of more than ten brought five empty wooden carts, each pulled by two slaves.
It was easy to tell they were slaves—not only because some were half-demons, but because there were humans among them too.
No human could possibly be free in these parts.
Xinghou led several Mushroomborn to greet the visitors, exchanging a few brief words with their leader.
Then he summoned a group of “Fat pujis.” These round, plump mushroom giants dug into their own bodies and produced piles of mushrooms, which they stacked neatly onto the wagons.
Once the carts were filled, Xinghou handed the tribal leader an extra sack of Delicious Mushrooms.
The trade complete, the tribesmen took up the reins and started home, leaving the slaves behind for Xinghou’s men to take away.
“Slave trade, huh…” Grem murmured.
Across the continent, both humans and demons practiced slavery.
Among humans, the system was limited—restricted by the Church’s influence and the threat of demon retaliation. But among demons, it was unrestricted, even rampant.
Even though this wasn’t the Empire, if even the Empire itself condoned slavery, then these northern tribes certainly would too.
Tribal criminals, war captives, even traveling strangers could all end up enslaved.
Elves and dwarves both held the system in contempt.
Setting morality aside, even from a purely practical perspective—
For the resource-rich elves, the risk and cost of managing slaves outweighed their usefulness.
And for the dwarves, whose greatest output was in mining and forging, outsiders could never rival them in skill anyway.
Watching this crude and barbaric exchange, Grem couldn’t hide his disdain.
At some point, Jeff had joined them, watching the departing slaves with a sigh. “Another batch of lucky ones.”
“Lucky?” Grem couldn’t imagine how the word “lucky” could apply to slaves.
Jeff chuckled softly. “You don’t get it. Most of those humans probably can’t even speak Common.”
The dwarves looked confused.
Jeff continued, “Many of the humans here have been slaves for generations. For them, the demon tongue is the only language they know! But now, all they have to do is work here for a couple of years—not even that hard—and they can earn freedom and protection. Compared to other slaves, isn’t that lucky?”
As he spoke, Jeff pointed to himself.
He, too, had once been a slave traded into the Mushroom Garden. Compared to his past life, even though he hadn’t yet earned freedom, he already felt grateful.
Before this, he’d never even seen a Delicious Mushroom, let alone eaten one.
More than that, under the boss’s rule, the Mushroom Garden was fair—even captives weren’t abused without cause. Disputes were handled justly, something unimaginable in his old world.
“Praise the Boss!” Jeff said devoutly, bowing toward the tall tower in the city’s center, where a puji wearing a vivid red cloak stood watch.
Then he turned back to his work, leaving the two dwarves staring blankly after him, silently mulling over what they’d just heard.