The caravan kicked up clouds of dust along the way. When it passed through a dry alluvial fan riverbed, four riders suddenly charged out from a canyon!
The caravan guards yanked on their reins one after another and drew pistols from their waists!
What maximized the gap between sharpshooters and ordinary gunmen wasn’t dueling, but accurately hitting targets amid high tangential speeds in dynamic firefights.
Ashley fired from the hip repeatedly, her gun barrel trembling as each bullet took down an unlucky bastard.
The other three had also enhanced their dynamic vision and stereoscopic sight, with extremely strong muscle memory—they wouldn’t hit the right eye if aiming for the left.
In a single round of gunfire, the slaver caravan was thrown into chaos, strewn with corpses.
The few surviving transcendents who had been shot but not killed were soon swarmed by leaping Shadow Snakes that tore into them, draining their spirituality until they stared vacantly, ripe for the slaughter.
Ashley pulled open the car door and raised her sawn-off shotgun, aiming at the obese slaver leader wearing a silk skullcap.
“You want to rob us blind?! That’s not how things work on the road!” Cold sweat trickled down the leader’s waxy, rigid yellow face.
“Would you think you’re dueling an ant if you stepped on one?” Ashley was amused and pulled the trigger!
Boom!
The massive gunshot shattered the car window glass. The leader’s body rippled with waves of fat, his loose shirt lifting to reveal countless bleeding spots.
The second barrel of the double-barreled shotgun blasted the door lock to the rear car. The door panel exploded in an instant, blown open with a huge hole.
Ashley kicked the door open and stepped inside, shaking her little head.
On a U-shaped sofa, she saw several strange figures sprawled haphazardly.
Their bodies were covered in thick moss and mushrooms, as if someone had simply peeled up a patch of ground to make clothes.
But on closer inspection, there wasn’t a speck of dirt. The moss and fungi’s fine root filaments were woven into fluffy, soft fabric that retained water and stayed moist.
It covered their entire bodies, exposing only their eyes, lips, and noses.
Perhaps for aesthetics, the hoods were planted with pretty leaves in place of hair—some slender and curly, some heart-shaped and scattered, others like big clusters of pine needles.
“These are the Fungus People?”
Ashley glanced over them. From their faces, there were males and females, none very old.
“Fungus People are all the rage in noble circles. Slave traders can sell them for five thousand to ten thousand pounds depending on quality,” Moracha said as he walked in.
“So expensive?”
“Their skin is delicate and extremely sensitive, perfect for bedroom fun. More importantly, they’re hard to raise and die easily. Owning a finicky, rare pet like that best shows off a master’s status.”
“Boring.”
Ashley sat on the sofa nearby and reloaded.
The day before yesterday, the ancestors of the Rock Mountain Kingdom and Fountain City humans had only been a few hundred kilometers apart, so the Fungus People could barely understand the surface dwellers’ accent.
But the content wasn’t friendly at all. Having just escaped one wolf’s den only to enter a tiger’s mouth, the Fungus People were terrified, huddling together and trembling.
“Come here, all of you. Pick a fitting ‘Lichen Garment’ and put it on,” Moracha ordered.
“We’re infiltrating the Rock Mountain Kingdom? Outsiders aren’t allowed in there?” Ashley realized. Wasn’t this buying the casket and returning the pearl? They wanted the clothes, not the people.
“Exactly. Those guys are extremely isolationist—not out of racial prejudice or hatred, but because their underground ecosystem hangs in a fragile balance. Once that balance breaks, even if a new one forms, the reshaping process would devastate the Fungus People clans within it.
Fungus People have varying degrees of fungalization. Those wearing Lichen Garments have the lowest level, while the highly fungalized ones are especially sensitive to environmental changes,” Moracha explained in detail.
“Is it because underground folk have no resistance to surface diseases and pathogens?” Ashley asked.
“There’s something even worse. You should know that plant tubers don’t extend hundreds of meters deep underground. In the lightless depths where photosynthesis is impossible, fungi are the cave-dwelling Fungus People’s food source. But they’re not the only ones symbiotic with fungi—there are all sorts of insects too: Springtails, mites, ants, aphids… and so on. The entire food chain depends on fungi. So if the ecosystem shifts, it could cause fungal outbreaks or shortages, or poisonous fungi contamination—all fatal,” Moracha explained again.
Ashley still only half-understood. Her gaze swept over the Fungus People and locked onto a little loli. She grabbed the pink leaves on her head. “You’re the one!”
“Wuu…”
The Fungus loli struggled as she was dragged into the Slanted House.
She had a pair of big, watery eyes, her pupils like pink gems in a spring.
At first, she resisted fiercely, but after Ashley pulled out a knife, she went silent, squeezing out fearful whimpers from between her teeth.
Ashley tore off the Lichen Garment, revealing tender, smooth skin coated in a layer of mucus. A surge of jealousy welled up in her—it’s even better than mine!
Unwilling to accept it, she rolled up her sleeve for a comparison. The difference was obvious; the other’s skin was so soft it seemed like it would squish water out if pinched. She almost wanted to take a bite.
“What’s your name?” Ashley pinched her little face, narrowing her eyes with irritation as she asked.
“Mei… Meizhivina…” The loli curled her small hands over her chest and pleaded, “Please… don’t take my Lichen Garment… Without it… I’ll die… I’ll do anything… Don’t kill me… Wuu wuu wuu… Mama…”
“Listen, little Mei, you’re lucky to meet me. You can survive without the Lichen Garment,” Ashley comforted her.
The Slanted House had no heat exchange with the outside world, and the Sky Moth People’s Egg Sheath could create a constant 28-degree environment. So as long as she controlled moisture evaporation, it would work.
Ashley moved the Sky Moth People’s Egg Sheath here and placed a humidifier in the corner, creating a gradient of evenly decreasing humidity. That way, little Mei could find the perfect spot herself to meet her strict humidity needs.
Fungus People were extremely sensitive to humidity. Realizing this, little Mei stopped resisting and cooperated as Ashley removed the garment.
During the peeling process, Ashley gradually sensed something off—besides the face exposing eyes and nose, there were no other openings. Seamless. But how did they excrete?
Did the mycelium feed on the Fungus People’s secretions and waste? Like ecological pet litter.
By the end, Ashley’s mouth fell open. Ah, sure enough…
The spiraling interwoven mycelium extended deep into the intestines, even reaching the stomach, integrated into the digestive system.
“Wuu…” Little Mei covered her face with both hands, mortified to death.
“I don’t need this. I’ll leave it on you.”
Ashley took out scissors and snipped it off right at the connection to the Lichen Garment.
As it disconnected, little Mei’s back arched cutely, and she shrank back, her eyelashes drooping as her face twisted in distress.
Ashley swapped clothes with her and left the Slanted House.
The other three had also found spots to change.
“What about these Fungus People?” Eunice asked.
“Leave no traces.” Moracha picked up a can of gasoline, ready to douse the car.
“Have you thought about what happens if the Lichen Garment gets damaged later? Put them in the Slanted House as clothes racks,” Ashley suggested.
While Moracha tilted his head in thought, Eunice chimed in, “This ecological clothing seems to need absorbing human secretions to survive. You don’t produce any—how will you keep the Lichen Garment alive? What if it dies, and we can’t find a replacement?”
“Makes sense.” Moracha set down the gas can.
Ashley promptly loaded the Fungus People into the Slanted House’s constant temperature and humidity room.
Not long after donning the Lichen Garment, she felt refreshingly clean all over. The mycelium broke down sweat stains, secretions, and dead skin on her body. Over time, her skin would become as plump and tender as a Fungus Person’s.
But she hadn’t crossed the human boundary of using the toilet in clothes yet. She tore a zipper from spare clothes in the Slanted House and installed it on the Lichen Garment, which she could unzip when needed.
