“Out! Out! Out! Come out already!”
The last ten monster corpses were dumped in front of Fatty Puji, while Horn shouted with bloodshot eyes, as if yelling would make the fat blob spit out better prizes.
His teammates could only look on helplessly. After twenty draws had yielded nothing but mushrooms and worthless magic crystals, Horn had gone a little mad.
It was already common knowledge in Yafeng Town that the fat Puji on the fifth floor could exchange monster corpses for lottery rewards.
Because of that, the once-useless monster corpses suddenly gained value, and naturally a new loot distribution method was born.
Just like Horn: he refused all other materials, and in return, the monster corpses would all belong to him, with the team helping to haul them down.
But in reality, most parties abandoned this system after trying it a few times.
The reason was simple—if one teammate broke down on the way back, falling into hysteria or silent despair, the whole team’s morale suffered.
Fatty Puji finally finished gathering the corpses and began handing out rewards.
Everyone could hear Horn’s breathing grow heavier.Mushroom, mushroom, mushroom, junk crystal, mushroom…
“Where’s the jackpot? Where’s the jackpot? Give me gear, give me high-grade crystals!”
The teammates exchanged glances. They had already decided to hurry their return trip, to shorten exposure to Horn’s impending dark mood.
“I hit it! Hahahahaha—hahahahahahh!”
Horn’s near-inhuman laughter startled his three companions.
There he was, kneeling in a pile of mushrooms and waste crystals, clutching a faintly glowing dagger in both hands, kissing it and sobbing.
Anything that glowed was at least attribute gear—worth more than ten full dungeon runs!
This time, no one worried about Horn’s depression. Instead, all the negative emotions shifted onto the other three.
Yet before they could even mutter something sour, a chilling, twisted scream echoed from deep within the mushroom forest.
The sound was so eerie it made their scalps tingle. Even Horn, still giddy with joy, swallowed the rest of his laughter and shrank back into the group.
No one wanted to risk it. They quickly retreated toward the staircase.
…
In the mushroom forest, several Pujis were piled atop one trembling giant Puji, blocking the opening on its cap.
That horrifying cry had come from it.
Scaring adventurers was one thing, but even Lin Jun himself had been startled.
Why was it so hard just to say a word?
By now, Lin Jun’s [Human Common Tongue] was level eight. With the help of Dylan’s translation device, he had already mastered most basic vocabulary.
He no longer struggled to understand adventurers.
The problem was—he could listen, but how to speak?
The simplest way was to fully possess a humanoid and talk through its mouth.
But that didn’t feel much different from borrowing Dylan’s mouth.
Lin Jun wanted to see if mushrooms themselves could be modified into vocal devices.
If he controlled them personally, there’d be no skill restriction. All he needed was to remodel the inside of a Puji to produce sound.
The idea was beautiful, reality less so.
A voice box modeled after a human throat only produced “puff puff” hissing noises.
Later, after more modifications, what just happened had been one of the failures.
It was time to move operations. If he kept experimenting in the mushroom forest, rumors would spread that Pujis were imprisoning and torturing adventurers. Not good.
The new site: underground, in the dungeon cells he had dug earlier.
As the Pujis entered, the starving vampire viscountess in the corner reflexively spoke in demon tongue:
“I’m just a little piglet who wants food.”
She thought food had finally arrived. When nothing happened, Louisa slumped back into the corner, staring blankly.
Right, he had been so obsessed with making “voice Pujis” he’d forgotten to feed her. Vampires sure endured hunger well!
He tossed her a fresh monster corpse, delivered by two Pujis.
Weren’t vampires supposed to be able to lie in coffins for a hundred years without eating or drinking? Did this world not have that setting?
He’d ask Louisa later. For now, speaking mattered more.
So, after eating just enough to be four-tenths full, Louisa sat in the corner, watching a bunch of Pujis occasionally emit ghastly wails.
At first she shuddered at the sound, but soon she grew used to it. Only her sleep worsened—night after night startled awake by those noises.
The only benefit was that since the Pujis had moved in, she hadn’t been forgotten at mealtimes…
…
One day, Louisa was startled awake again.
Based on past experience, the noise wouldn’t last long. It usually stopped after a few tries, and the next would be an hour or two later.
She blinked, ready to go back to sleep. The more she slept, the less she felt hungry.
“Lou… i… sa…”
Louisa’s eyes flew open wide.
The sound was warped and sinister, with an eerie echo, rasping like grinding stones.
But most importantly—this wasn’t telepathy! It was real sound!
Who?
Who was calling her name?
For a moment she imagined some ugly-voiced demon had come to rescue her.
After all, no one here knew her name. The voice in her head had never asked. If someone could call her name, it had to be an ally from the demon side!
But the fantasy shattered almost instantly.
The sound came from a long, stretched Puji, barely recognizable as one.
After failing to mimic a human throat, Lin Jun had abandoned all restraint.
As the saying went, black cat, white cat—if it catches mice, it’s a good cat.
As long as it could produce sound, it was a success. Perfection could wait.
This long, tubular Puji was the first prototype of a “Voice Puji.”
Air was forced in through its tail, passing through a complex structure until words came out.
Of course, as a first prototype, it still had flaws: distorted echoes, and the ability to say only one or two words at a time.
But it was the first step forward, and Lin Jun believed improvements would follow.
Seeing that the vampire understood her name was being called, Lin Jun had the Puji repeat happily:
“Lou… Lou… i… sa… Louisa…”
“Ah… ahhh—!!”
Louisa suddenly clutched her head, rolling on the ground, screaming in terror.
Then she bolted for the exit, ignoring the risk of mushroom punishment.
But she had never been allowed to eat her fill. The two elite Pujis outside easily subdued her, calming her with [Hallucinogenic Spores].
Clearly, the “demon language learning device” had glitched—perhaps too much dust had gotten into her brain after being locked in the cellar so long.
Maybe it was time to let her go mining for some fresh air?