They returned to the dungeon on the fourth morning.
Cold air.
Gate humming softly.
Chickens clammed up inside reinforced crates.
Phong carried two.
Dominic carried four like they were gym props.
Passing divers slowed to stare.
"I need my protein," Dominic said casually.
One glance at his arms, veins and biceps like coiled cables, and they nodded.
"Yeah. Makes sense."
"Nutrient bars ain't enough."
They moved on.
No suspicion.
No questions.
Just another tank doing tank things.
The atmosphere shifted the moment they crossed fully into Floor One and started toward Camp Stymphalian.
It was crowded.
Phong crested the familiar rise and stopped.
On the left side of camp stood lizardmen.
Disciplined formation.
Scaled armor glinting.
At their center lay a salmon.
A dungeon salmon.
One the size of a shark.
Silver scales caught the mana-light. Its eyes looked glassy and huge.
On the right side stood trolls.
Moss thick across their backs.
Clubs resting on shoulders.
At their feet stood a three-headed cow.
All three heads chewed lazily.
All three mooed in different pitches.
Dominic blinked.
"Did we miss a summit?"
Janet crossed her arms.
"They wanted to trade. Looks like their scouts knew we were coming."
Apparently so.
Both factions waited outside the chili perimeter with perfect restraint.
The lizardman emissary stepped forward first.
"We bring lake bounty."
From the opposite side, the Troll King rumbled, "We bring land beast."
Then both looked at Phong.
Expectation clear.
Trade.
More specifically, shiitake.
During the days Phong stayed on the surface, the mushroom logs had exploded with growth.
Clusters as thick as fists.
Caps glossy and dark brown.
The camp carrying a rich, earthy smell.
Since the ceasefire, the mushrooms near the lake hadn't developed defensive mutations like the onions and garlic.
Peace preserved them.
Janet stepped forward at once.
"Full appraisal first."
Everyone agreed.
They gathered in the central clearing.
Plants arranged.
Animals secured.
The factions watching with interest, but still staying outside the chili line.
Phong began with the first strain.
Eardropping Wood Ear.
Thin, black, translucent fungi clung to the logs like wet petals.
He plucked one carefully.
A status window flickered into view.
Eardropping Wood Ear
Function: Sound relay to Moletato network.
Limitation: Audio only. Difficulty discerning complex human language semantics. Sounds and phonetics may distort during transfer. Recognition capability intact.
Consumption effect: None.
Selena, patched in over call, gasped.
"They're acoustic nodes."
Phong nodded slowly.
"The Moletato network can hear through them."
Dominic raised a brow.
"So the farm has senses now?"
"Only sound," Phong said.
Jake frowned.
"Still creepy."
Next came Relaxing Shiitake.
Thicker caps. Dense flesh.
Phong broke one in half.
The smell alone felt calming.
Another status window appeared.
Relaxing Shiitake
Effect: Removes all exhaustion. Equivalent to 8 hours of rest in 60 seconds.
Limit: Once per week per individual.
Silence.
Even the Troll King leaned forward a fraction.
Dominic blinked.
"…You're kidding."
Phong was not.
Janet started doing math in real time.
"Weekly reset. Longest cooldown we've seen so far. But to get eight hours of sleep in the middle of combat for sixty seconds…"
"Game changer," Alex said.
Everyone reached that conclusion almost instantly.
"For deep dives…" Alex murmured.
"Or post-boss fights," Vanessa added.
It wasn't a buff.
It was a reset button.
Once per week.
In a dungeon where fatigue piled up in ways people barely understood.
Absurd.
Then Watering Oyster Mushroom.
Lighter. Fan-shaped. Cool to the touch.
Watering Oyster Mushroom
Effect: Prevents dehydration for 24 hours.
Limit: Once per week.
Dominic stared.
"So no water management for a day?"
"Yes."
The divers were already thinking ahead.
Desert biomes.
Extended sieges.
Floor Two expeditions.
Unlike Sympathy Enoki, these mushrooms had weekly cooldowns instead of daily ones.
But the magnitude was enormous.
Not flashy.
Not explosive.
Campaign-altering.
The lizardmen began whispering among themselves.
The Troll King scratched at his moss, thoughtful.
They didn't know the exact effects, but instinct told them these mushrooms were worth far more than potatoes.
Phong stepped back.
The appraisal had turned serious.
No explosive mutations.
No Geneva-violating garlic mines.
Just infrastructure-level power.
Recovery. Endurance. Information.
The Moletato network could hear now.
The camp could wipe away exhaustion once per week.
The camp could ignore dehydration for a full day.
Janet exhaled slowly.
"This changes things."
"Yes," Alex said. "Quietly."
Dominic glanced toward both factions.
"They definitely want these."
The lizardman emissary spoke first.
"We offer lake bounty for mushroom."
The Troll King rumbled, "We offer cow."
All three heads mooed in unison.
Phong looked at the salmon.
Then the cow.
Then the shiitake.
Then his camp.
He wasn't just growing food anymore.
He was cultivating leverage.
He stepped forward.
"Limited trade."
Both factions straightened.
"One Relaxing Shiitake per month."
Murmurs.
"Ten Watering Oyster per month."
Louder murmurs.
"Wood Ears only if you allow placement near your territory."
The lizardman narrowed its eyes.
The Troll King tilted his head.
Sound network expansion.
Shared surveillance.
Shared awareness.
Janet nodded with approval.
Alex smiled faintly.
Dominic cracked his knuckles.
This wasn't war.
This wasn't a desperate scramble for survival.
This was diplomacy powered by agriculture.
The dungeon salmon shimmered under mana-light.
The three-headed cow snorted.
Negotiations began over quantities and placement.
Rico whispered dramatically, "The farmer has become the senate."
Bruno barked in approval.
Nyx flicked her tail.
The chickens clucked in total ignorance.
Camp Stymphalian had grown again.
Not in violence.
Not in spectacle.
In influence.
And somewhere beneath the soil, the Moletato network listened.
Phong stood at the center of camp, watching a shark-sized salmon beside a three-headed cow, and thought:
Why stop at trading food?
He looked from the lake to the mountain.
From scales to moss.
An idea clicked into place the way seeds sometimes did when the soil felt right.
"I have a proposal," he said.
Both factions went quiet.
The Troll King leaned on his club.
The lizardman emissary folded its clawed hands.
Phong pointed toward the lower slope near the center of camp.
"I want a pond."
Janet blinked.
"A pond?"
"Yes. A local water reserve."
He turned to the lizardmen.
"You provide canal expertise."
Then to the trolls.
"You provide manpower."
The Troll King grunted with approval.
Digging. That, at least, required no explanation.
The emissary narrowed its eyes.
"And water control benefits us?"
"Yes," Phong said. "Fish breeding. Irrigation. Emergency reserve. Shared resource."
He paused deliberately.
"In exchange, additional shiitake allocation."
Murmurs rippled through the scaled ranks.
The Troll King's moss shifted in what Phong had learned meant interest.
"Extra sleepy mushroom?" the Troll King asked.
"Yes."
The negotiations ended quickly.
Food.
Rest.
Water.
Three languages that translated across species.
And so construction began.
Trolls slammed crude stone tools into the ground with astonishing force. Each strike sent tremors through camp.
Five of them worked in rhythm, carving a basin into the earth like they were sculpting a crater.
Lizardmen directed the slope, the water gradient, the mud reinforcement.
Their canal team cut a narrow trench from Lake Baratok toward the basin, measuring incline by eye and instinct alone.
The collaboration looked ridiculous.
Troll laughter booming over lizard hisses of correction.
Moss brushing scaled armor.
And in the middle of it all, Phong, Level 1 farmer, orchestrating the whole thing.
By the time the sun dipped lower and the pond basin had taken shape, Phong clapped his hands.
"Dinner."
Both factions paused.
A small pang of guilt hit him.
They were working for him.
They shouldn't work hungry.
Joanne was already kneeling by the salmon, eyes bright.
"Sashimi."
Dominic looked at the three-headed cow like a man staring into destiny.
"Steak."
Bruno sat down beside him immediately.
Solidarity.
Nyx flicked her tail and stepped toward the salmon.
"Fish."
Rico folded his arms.
"Seafood is sophistication."
Dominic scoffed.
"Beef builds legends."
Phong raised a hand.
"Fish today."
Dominic looked betrayed.
"We have cow."
"We have tomorrow."
That mollified him slightly.
"And," Phong added, "I already have plans for beef."
Dominic perked up at once.
"Go on."
"Phở."
That one word made the three Js sit straighter.
Jake blinked.
"Here?"
"Yes."
Phong reviewed the inventory in his head.
He had dried noodles from the surface.
Fish sauce.
Rock sugar.
Ginger.
Onion.
Garlic.
No star anise. No cinnamon.
But broth could still be coaxed into depth.
He glanced at the cow.
"Tomorrow."
Dominic nodded solemnly.
So salmon it was.
They built a fire.
Then another.
Phong filleted the fish with steady hands.
Thick slabs of flesh came away clean. Bright orange marbled with white. Fresh, with only a faint metallic trace from mana saturation.
He sliced some thin for sashimi.
Laid them on flat stone.
Translucent. Shimmering.
He brushed a few with light soy and a squeeze of Snow Lime juice. The citrus chill left a whisper of frost over the surface.
Joanne looked close to tears.
"This is insane."
Dominic pretended not to be impressed.
He was doing a bad job of it.
Next came seared salmon.
Phong heated a flat iron pan over direct flame.
Thirty seconds a side.
Edges caramelized. Center left medium-rare. Fat rendered just enough to release fragrance.
Then poached.
A gentle simmer in ginger-infused water. The slices flaked softly. Steam rose rich and clean.
He seasoned lightly.
Salt.
A dash of fish sauce.
Another squeeze of lime.
Then he handed portions out.
Alex got sashimi first.
She closed her eyes at the first bite.
"Clean."
"Fresh."
"Bright."
Janet preferred the seared cut.
"Better texture contrast."
Dominic clung to imaginary steak loyalty for about fifteen seconds before taking a thick seared slab.
He chewed slowly.
"…Okay."
Bruno devoured a flaked piece with unrestrained enthusiasm.
Nyx nibbled sashimi with perfect restraint.
Rico chewed, considered, and declared, "…Acceptable."
The three Js sat cross-legged, eating like students on a retreat.
The trolls were simpler.
Phong carried out huge seared portions to the five canal-digging trolls waiting just beyond the chili line.
They accepted the food with careful hands.
One sniffed.
Then bit.
Then let out a booming grunt of satisfaction that echoed across the basin.
Even the lizardman emissary tried a small portion with reserved curiosity.
Its eyes widened a fraction.
"Lake bounty improved by fire."
"Yes," Phong said mildly.
He had guessed an underwater civilization probably didn't cook much.
The pond basin began filling slowly as water trickled through the new canal.
Mud darkened.
Surface shimmered under the fading light.
Camp Stymphalian now had a lake-fed pond in progress.
Shared infrastructure.
Shared dinner.
Shared exhaustion.
The smell of fish hung warmly in the air.
Flaky umami-rich flesh.
Citrus brightness.
Char from flame.
Ginger in the steam.
Phong watched Dominic pass a chunk of fish to a troll without hesitation.
Watched a lizardman taste sashimi with careful surprise.
Watched Alex laugh as Bruno tried to copy Dominic's chewing pattern.
Watched the Moletato network rustle faintly beneath the soil.
Something settled inside him.
This wasn't just survival.
This wasn't just revenge waiting for its turn.
This was building something absurd and impossible.
A camp between factions.
A pond carved by monsters.
A meal shared by humans and creatures that had been enemies not long ago.
He wiped his hands and sat beside Alex.
"You're feeding five trolls," she said quietly.
"And three lizard supervisors," he added.
She smiled.
"Farmer diplomacy."
He nodded.
"Tomorrow," Dominic said dreamily, staring at the cow, "we conquer beef."
Phong chuckled.
"Tomorrow."
Under the dim mana glow of Floor One, salmon was eaten, trolls dug, water flowed, and Camp Stymphalian put down deeper roots than ever before.
Dinner smoke still lingered in the cool air when Phong got up again.
He hadn't sat long.
His brain was already moving.
Sunflowers.
Carrots.
He unpacked the seed packets he'd brought from the surface.
Dominic, midway through a burp fueled by salmon and Pepsi, squinted at him.
"You're planting now?"
"Yes."
"It's night."
"The soil doesn't care."
Alex laughed softly from her seat on a flat stone.
"He doesn't either."
Sunflowers first.
Phong walked to a patch near the new pond basin, far enough from the chili perimeter to avoid accidental artillery.
He pressed the seeds into the earth in a neat semicircle facing the lake.
Tall. Bright. Visible from afar.
Not defensive.
Not poisonous.
Just presence.
He liked that.
Then carrots.
Long rows.
He knelt and pressed them carefully into the dark mana-rich dirt.
Dominic wandered closer.
"Carrots?"
"Japanese curry."
Dominic paused.
"…You're forgiven for fish."
Phong smirked.
He missed Japanese curry.
The warmth.
The slow stew.
The sweetness of carrots melting into thick gravy.
The dungeon would mutate them.
Of course it would.
The only question was into what.
Explosive root missiles?
Mana-sight enhancement?
Or just the best carrots in existence?
Behind him, Dominic was tipping trolls.
Literally handing them Pepsi as post-construction bonuses.
The Troll King accepted one with grave dignity.
Cracked it open.
Fizz hissed into the night.
He drank. Paused. Then nodded once.
"Strong."
Dominic puffed up with pride.
"Culture."
The lizardmen watched with suspicion.
One took a sip.
Immediately grimaced.
"Too angry."
Dominic looked offended.
"It's refined."
Janet had already shifted into planning mode.
She stood near the pond with Jake, Jack, and Joanne.
"Floor Two is unstable," she said. "Phoenix presence changed aggression patterns."
Jake nodded.
"We can't push deeper without Alex."
Jack added quietly, "And even with her…"
Janet exhaled.
"We may need expansion."
The word hung in the air.
Camp Stymphalian was no longer a hidden farm.
It was infrastructure.
Alliances.
Resources.
Weekly-reset mushrooms.
Now livestock.
A pond.
Sunflowers in progress.
They started setting up more electronics.
Signal amplifiers mounted on reinforced poles.
A backup generator humming beside the main unit.
Additional battery arrays locked into waterproof casings.
Heaters installed discreetly along the inner ruin walls.
"In case a Shifting drags an icy biome here," Janet explained.
Floodlights went up along key angles.
Solar panels angled toward the mana-lit sky.
Then came the big screen.
A foldable projection screen secured against one ruin wall.
Projector connected. Speakers wired.
Dominic stepped back, hands on hips.
"Cinema."
Rico clapped dramatically.
"At last."
They gathered after cleanup.
Humans. Animals. And, at a respectful distance beyond the chili line, two curious trolls pretending not to watch.
Alex slid into Phong's lap without ceremony.
Like she'd always done it.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He wrapped an arm around her waist on instinct.
She leaned back into him.
Lord of the Rings began.
The orchestral swell filled the dungeon clearing.
The irony of watching epic fantasy inside a living dungeon wasn't lost on anyone.
Phong tried to stay focused.
He really did.
But the pacing.
The sweeping landscapes.
The long walking scenes.
His eyelids grew heavy.
Everyone else, however, was locked in.
Dominic leaned forward during battle scenes.
Janet watched with sharp, thoughtful focus.
Jake and Jack traded nostalgic glances.
Joanne mouthed lines from memory.
Nyx climbed onto a stone slab the moment Gandalf appeared.
"I shall embody wisdom."
Bruno immediately planted himself on a rock opposite her.
"I am fire and shadow."
When the Balrog scene arrived, Nyx stepped into the edge of the projector glow and raised one tiny paw.
"You shall not pass!"
Bruno launched forward with a ferocious bark.
He misjudged the distance and bumped the lower frame.
The screen wobbled.
Everyone burst into laughter.
Even the Troll King's booming chuckle rolled in from beyond the line.
Rico sighed heavily.
"Artistic integrity is lost."
Alex's laughter vibrated warmly against Phong's chest.
He looked down at her.
Projector light brushed through her hair.
Warm.
Soft.
Present.
During a quieter stretch of the film, Janet leaned closer to the group.
"We need to think about numbers."
Dominic didn't take his eyes off the screen.
"Trust first."
"Yes," Janet said. "No random recruitment."
Jake spoke quietly.
"Specialists."
Jack added, "Information control matters."
Joanne nodded.
"Anyone who joins has to understand the… unconventional diplomacy."
Meaning trolls and lizardmen.
And mushroom resets.
And chili artillery.
Janet looked at Phong.
"Core stays small."
He nodded.
He didn't want Camp Stymphalian turning into a guild.
He didn't want sponsor banners.
He wanted control. Stability. A place where sunflowers could grow without being weaponized.
Projector light flickered over the newly turned earth.
Over canal water slowly filling the pond.
Over chickens settling into temporary enclosures near the ruin wall.
Over trolls sipping Pepsi like it was a ritual drink.
Over lizardmen watching a movie about rings and power.
Alex shifted slightly in his lap.
"You falling asleep?" she whispered.
"Never."
She smiled.
"You're terrible at lying."
He pressed his chin lightly to her shoulder.
The film rolled on.
The Fellowship walked.
Mountains loomed.
Fire roared.
Camp Stymphalian glowed softly in the mana-lit night.
It no longer felt like a survival patch.
It felt like a frontier town.
A weird, diplomatic, half-legal frontier town with explosive vegetables and weekly-rest mushrooms.
Dominic leaned back at last.
"If I had a ring like that, I'd just throw it in the pond."
Nyx gasped.
"Blasphemy."
Bruno barked in agreement.
Janet shook her head.
"Power never works that simply."
Phong looked at the pond, slowly filling.
At the sunflowers waiting to sprout.
At the carrots buried in dark soil.
At the projector light dancing across Alex's face.
Power didn't work simply.
But cultivation did.
And he was very good at that.
Even if the movie's pacing was trying to put him into a coma.
He stayed awake.
Mostly.
Because this mattered more than any epic battle scene.