Chapter 75 Shadow Town 4 I love eating mushrooms, what about you?
You filed in, pushing open the rusty metal door.
The air was filled with the smell of stale medicine, and there was also a faint musty smell, like the smell of medicines and packaging boxes slowly rotting in a damp environment.
Inside the pharmaceutical factory, a straight and deep corridor stretched out. Most of the fluorescent tubes on the ceiling were broken, leaving only a few flickering with a faint light, like dying fireflies.
Everything was empty.
From the reception area to the office area, and even the open-plan laboratory area, everything was empty. The tables and chairs were neatly arranged as if copied and pasted, but not a single report paper could be seen.
Some are placed in rooms that are completely empty.
There was only the impression that there was a space inside when you looked through the window, nothing more.
Even if everyone dies and disappears, who can move all these interior furnishings? Will someone else handle the aftermath? Surely they wouldn't pack up and take all the tables and chairs with them.
It felt empty, like the interior of a train station.
No, it's much richer there than here. At least, the few shops that aren't open, the different functional areas, and so on, at least make you feel like this is a real scene, just a bit bizarre.
"It really exists."
You already had a suspicion, and now you're almost certain.
Perhaps, all of this is someone's fantasy—some weary college student who had a bizarre dream at the platform of the university where you started.
Her experiences, as seen from her perspective, are rich in detail; what she hasn't encountered is glossed over, or even "non-existent," merely an empty shell.
You look at Shiraishi Mizuki, and she happens to be looking at you too.
It must be her.
She was significantly different from others, both in her behavior and her actions. She was always detached, composed, special, and one could say "smarter."
That's why she keeps staring at you, because the dream's protagonist has discovered an intruder; that's why the world's main element—spores—sees you differently than she and the other characters in the dream.
So, how can we leave this place? Wake up the dreamer? Or perhaps, this is a lucid dream all along, in which case we can only look for opportunities in our surroundings.
Fortunately, since it's a dream, it's a limited scene, and everything has a focus, so you just need to follow the steps and find it slowly.
It's also possible to find the breakthrough point in the story, treat it as an ordinary scene, and solve it using the same old formula.
With that in mind, you continued to look around while obediently following Morita Akira.
Akira Morita walked at the front, his eyes scanning the surroundings warily, as if searching for something.
After making eye contact with you, Shiraishi Mizuki quickly immersed herself in her own world again, humming an unknown tune softly. Her gaze would sometimes fall on the promotional posters on the wall, and sometimes on your back, sending chills down your spine.
You quickly passed through one empty corridor after another, finally reaching a double-layered security door at the very back of the building. The sign on the door was blurred, but a few words could still be vaguely made out:
"Shadow Flower Special Research Laboratory".
Morita Akira's eyes lit up. He stepped forward and pressed the electronic panel next to the door as if he were very familiar with this kind of research room. However, the screen had already lost power. He frowned at first, then couldn't help but be overjoyed.
“This is more convenient.” He said, kicking the door frame hard with his foot—with a “bang,” the rusty metal door suddenly opened, revealing a laboratory that had been closed for a long time.
He rushed in, as if afraid someone would steal something from him.
Hayakawa Hana takes your hand and slowly inches forward.
It seems that the strange events and death that happened to Makoto Ishikawa had a great impact on this hot-blooded girl.
As a result, her entire personality and way of doing things seemed to have changed drastically.
Since they are NPCs, this makes sense. This is a terrifying dream, so it doesn't need long, artistic chapters about character development or ambiguous scenes. It only needs a few characters to guide the plot forward, allowing players to acquire different identities based on fragmented narratives.
As long as your gaze moves back and forth between the main characters, Mizuki Shiraishi and Akira Morita, it will eventually settle on Mizuki Shiraishi.
Are you kidding me? Someone like Akira Morita, unless it's a male-oriented story, is definitely cannon fodder.
But then you realize you're in Japan, and you're a little uncertain.
Rather, the composition of this team of four college students is quite strange. Let's start from there and observe for a while longer.
As you randomly considered various possibilities, you looked around the laboratory.
On the surrounding experimental tables, numerous research documents on the shadow flower were scattered. Several withered shadow flower remains were soaking in the culture solution, their black roots appearing as if they had been corroded, with strange spore spots appearing on their surface.
But what will give you goosebumps even more is—
In the corner of the room, there were several biological culture chambers, their glass surfaces covered with dust, and human-shaped outlines could be vaguely seen inside.
The air was filled with a strong smell of medicine and a faint stench of blood, as if some unknown experiment had taken place here.
"Where did Morita go?" Hayakawa Hana asked nervously in a low voice, her hand gripping your arm involuntarily tightening.
You patted the back of her hand, your eyes searching around, and finally spotted a small, hidden door: "There!"
"Morita, really. He found a new room and didn't even say anything." Hayakawa Hana rubbed her forehead, looking troubled, and was about to crawl inside.
Upon entering the small door, as if sensing something, faint light seeped out from the broken fluorescent tube, enveloping the entire space in a dim green hue.
This place is different from the laboratory outside; it's filled with wall after wall of rose specimens!
The shadow flowers were meticulously preserved in glass jars, arranged neatly. Even after being sealed for a long time, they still maintained a certain eerie integrity.
Its roots are curled up and its petals are outstretched, like a strange creature that has been imprisoned.
The lab bench was littered with countless research reports and instruments, and a faint smell of disinfectant lingered in the air, but it could not mask the chilling atmosphere that penetrated to the bone.
Everyone was stunned by the scene, including you.
"...This is the Shadow Flower?" Hayakawa Hana's voice trembled slightly as she subconsciously took a step forward, gazing at the strange flowers in the glass jar.
"So beautiful..." Mizuki Shiraishi murmured softly, her pupils dilating slightly as she was irresistibly drawn in, her breathing becoming softer.
The next second, her reaction became frantic.
"Shut up! All of you, shut up!!"
Hayakawa Hana, who was just about to say something, awkwardly covered her mouth.
She suddenly erupted, her voice sharp and filled with a twisted ecstasy. She collapsed into the center of the laboratory, her hands trembling as she pulled paintbrushes and sketchbooks from her backpack, her eyes burning with a intensity that seemed to want to etch everything before her into her soul.
She began to paint without a care in the world. The tip of her brush scraped across the paper, making a screeching sound. Her hand speed was extremely fast. Her face was so distorted by her concentration and posture that it looked like a piece of human skin that had been detached from the skin.
Her paintbrush dances wildly across the paper, yet you stand aside, watching her work, her eyebrows arched high.
The bottles and jars, the shadow flowers in her paintings—they exude a dazzling purple hue, so vibrant they seem to be burning, carrying a captivating and alluring charm.
But in your eyes, everything here... is still the same—a hazy, gray-black mist.
You try to keep your expression calm, casually strolling around with your hands behind your back, but your eyes secretly scan every corner of the laboratory.
You gently kick aside a lab coat on the ground; it's covered in black mold, as if it's being slowly devoured by some kind of fungus.
"Morita, what are you doing hiding there!" Hayakawa Hana whispered, pulling out Morita Akira, who had disappeared for several minutes. Akira was lying on the ground with her butt sticking out, quickly browsing something.
It was a thick experimental logbook with the words "Shadow Flower Experiment Record" printed in blurry ink on the cover.
You immediately followed Hayakawa Hana and surrounded her, but Shiraishi Mizuki remained unmoved and showed no intention of stopping her painting.
As soon as you get close to Morita Akira, he bares his teeth fiercely at you, but the next moment he changes his expression as if he doesn't really care.
He calmed himself for a moment before showing you the notebook in his hand: "This report records all the experimental data on the shadow flower. Here—the shadow flower's growth cycle, root characteristics, experimental cultivation data... This can completely overturn all previous knowledge about the shadow flower!"
You pretend you didn't see the few pieces of paper he had just torn off in his pocket.
Judging from Hayakawa Hana's behavior, it seems like she really wasn't aware of this at all.
—Even if they're NPCs, is it really necessary to be this blind? You can either criticize them mercilessly or watch the content that Morita Akira has selected for you to see.
Looking down at the dense text, the lab report described in detail the special properties of the shadow flower, which can be summarized into the following three points:
1. While *Echeveria elegans* can indeed inhibit the growth of certain fungi, under specific conditions, its roots can secrete catalysts that accelerate the reproduction of certain fungi.
2. Although the spores of the shadow flower do not parasitize the human body, their nutrients become an optimal culture medium for fungal parasites after the flower dies.
3. The relationship between the shadow flower and the mushroom is not one of opposition, but rather—host and catalyst!
"This means... that the shadow flowers planted by these townspeople not only failed to completely eliminate the pathogens, but also caused everyone to be parasitized?" Hayakawa Hana's voice changed.
Akira Morita smiled but remained silent.
"The villagers mistakenly believed that the Shadow Flower could prolong their lives, but in reality, the massive reproduction of the Shadow Flower led to a parasitic disaster!" Hayakawa Hana became more and more agitated as she spoke. "We thought we were searching for the secret to longevity, but instead, we were all wiped out because of it. What a tragic and lamentable subject! Why are humans always harmed by their own greed!"
“But it is because of this that they have endured.” Morita Akira interjected at this moment.
His persona seems to be someone who expresses his views, which he believes represent the truth, out of step with the times.
"What do you mean?" Hayakawa Hana was taken aback.
The three of you stared at each other, and the air seemed to freeze for a moment.
"Plop...plop..."
A sticky, wet sound came from the corner of the laboratory.
Your back tenses instantly, and your hand in your pocket grips the vapor can tightly.
You're all too familiar with that sound.
—That's a sound only a "monster" would make!
You quickly turn your head, your gaze locking onto the direction from which the sound is coming.
In a corner of the laboratory, several biological culture chambers were piled up. Their glass surfaces were covered in dust, making it impossible to see inside—but now, something was wriggling in one of the culture chambers.
You hold your breath, and your pupils contract slightly.
The liquid inside the incubation chamber began to boil, and somehow the remnants of the Shadow Flower inside were activated. The petals slowly unfurled in the water, and a strange humanoid creature slowly raised its head.
"Plop...plop..."
Its skin was completely covered by mushroom mycelium, its eyes were sunken, and its mouth was half-open, revealing a set of teeth filled with mycelium. Most terrifyingly, its body, compared to the monsters outside, almost retained the outline of a human, except that its inside was the same clump of humus.
Its gaze has been fixed on you.
"Run!!" you yelled, turning around abruptly.
As a result, all three people, including Hayakawa Hana, simply stayed put without making a sound.
"You guys..." You were genuinely eager to escape. The cramped laboratory space and the inexplicable spore parasitism created an extremely tense survival crisis for you. But you also knew that this time, it seemed difficult to exert your initiative. Unless you intervened, you always had to wait for these people to make their next move before you could proceed.
If they ignore you, even if you run away on your own, the key information will still follow them.
After all, this is a "dream".
I guess so.
You look at Mizuki Shiraishi, who is still sitting on the ground, showing no intention of stopping her painting.
Her eyes held a kind of fanatical obsession, her fingers frantically drawing—and in her painting, the creature from the experimental chamber was slowly reaching out its hand, toward you.
Her lips curled into a dangerous smile as she whispered:
"What a beautiful scene... Do you really want to miss it?"
She said "you all," but when she looked up, she was only looking at you.
The monster's tentacles had already touched Shiraishi Mizuki's forehead, yet she showed no fear. What did she know? What was she waiting for?
At this critical moment, Morita Akira suddenly pounced on him!
His movements were decisive, even resolute, with an almost devout air. He forcefully shoved Shiraishi Mizuki aside, crashing into the monster's arm. Spores churned, surging towards him like a tide, but he paid them no heed, showing not even the slightest fear—
It opened its mouth and bit down hard on the monster's hand!
You were so shocked you almost forgot to breathe.
"Morita—are you insane?!"
Hayakawa Hana's voice was almost a scream; she clung tightly to your waist, her whole body trembling.
But Akira Morita ignored you.
He was so engrossed in tearing at the monster's arm that his bite force was terrifying. Blood—no, it should be said that the slime of mushroom spores—overflowed from the corners of his mouth, but he chewed on it without changing his expression!
When the spores touched his skin, there was no erosion, no ulceration, and not even any sign of parasitism.
Watching this scene, you feel like ants are gnawing at your scalp, and your stomach churns, making you want to vomit.
Morita Akira slowly straightened up, a trace of black liquid still lingering at the corner of his mouth. He casually wiped it away with the back of his hand, then gave a calm smile, his tone as indifferent as if stating some trivial fact:
Do you know?
He slowly exhaled, his voice still calm, yet carrying an indescribable sense of excitement.
"...Human stomach acid and gut microbiota are essentially a screening system for adapting to the environment."
He raised his hand, extended his fingers, and gently shook them, as if recounting an experimental report: "The toxicity of wild mushrooms comes from their metabolic products and spore reproduction mechanism. Most poisonous mushrooms are deadly because their toxin molecules can irreversibly bind with human proteases and liver enzymes... In other words, most people who eat them will be affected by them, or even die."
He paused, then gave a meaningful smile. "But not everyone will be poisoned."
Your heart suddenly clenched.
"Some people's gut microbiota, or genetic traits, are able to digest these toxins and incorporate their 'characteristics' into themselves."
As he said this, he tilted his head slightly, his expression frighteningly calm: "Just as some animals can become immune to toxins by eating venomous snakes, and some insects can digest highly poisonous plants and use their toxins to defend themselves against predators... it is possible for humans to do the same."
His tone grew increasingly low, but his expression became increasingly excited.
"If you can tolerate the spores, then you can 'acquire' its properties."
"...What? Morita, wake up!" Hayakawa Hana's fingers were almost digging into your palm, her body was as stiff as a stone, and her eyes were wide open as if they were about to burst.
“My gut microbiota has long been adapted to the spores of the shadow flower,” Morita Akira chuckled. “So, for me, the spores of mushrooms are just a ‘supplement’.”
He slowly licked the corner of his mouth, his eyes shining with a terrifying brightness: "This thing can parasitize the human body, modify tissues, and even erode a person's mind... But what if I could digest it before it erodes me?"
"I'll eat it, faster than it eats me."
When it comes to these professional topics, you can't tell the truth from the falsehood; you just find the logic in their words very convincing.
Modern science—is it really that powerful? Wait, is this even possible science? You feel like your brain is shrinking.
And Morita Akira spoke of all this so calmly, it felt as if he could no longer be called human.
Hayakawa Hana stared blankly at him, her lips trembling, and stammered, "You... what... are you..."
Akira Morita chuckled softly and tilted her head slightly: "You should ask yourself that question."
"What do you think distinguishes humans from monsters?" He shrugged, a suppressed madness in his smile. "Is it flesh and blood? Is it consciousness? Or simply... appearance?"
He pointed to a piece of the monster's skin that he had just bitten off, where undying mycelium still lingered, trembling slightly in his palm.
"If eating it can save my life—"
"So, what does it matter if it's the same?"
Just as you were stunned speechless by Akira Morita's remarks, Mizuki Shiraishi's painting was finally completed.
She slowly put down her paintbrush, the smile on her face still carrying that morbid joy, and her work—
As you watch the screen, your brain works at lightning speed.
In the center of the picture, where Morita Akira should have been, there is now only a huge and beautiful mushroom.
Its canopy unfolds like a crown, its stem is long and sturdy, its surface bearing the color of Akira Morita's clothes, and even... faintly revealing textures resembling human facial features.
It stands in the center of the picture, like a sacred statue, radiating an eerie and captivating light.
"What happened?" Your voice was terribly dry.
Mizuki Shiraishi looked down at the painting, then at Akira Morita, and chuckled softly, "Hmm? I only painted 'what I saw'."
She gently stroked the drawing paper, her eyes filled with tender affection: "In my eyes, this is exactly how he is."
She turned her head and looked at you with a smile: "Could it be... in your eyes, he is still 'human'?"
Your brain explodes with a buzz, and everything seems to blur in an instant.
You suddenly turned your head and looked at Akira Morita.
He still had a smile on his face, but:
— Tiny mycelia seemed to be growing on his skin.
—His eyes gleamed with an unusual light.
—Behind him, spores slowly emerged, like the halo of a blooming mushroom.
So, are Mizuki Shiraishi's paintings prophecies? Will they affect the scene here?
Returning to the original question, if humans could be consumed, infected, and modified by spores…
So, what should we classify "humans" who can devour spores?
Don't be misled.
This has nothing to do with you leaving here. She became a monster, he became a monster, they all became monsters, so what? What's it to you?
Why do you feel that the more you follow these people, the more distracting information you get, making it harder for you to make judgments?
Hayakawa Hana's NPC attributes are too obvious, and Morita Akira has already become like that, so naturally she can't be the protagonist—unless, of course, Kinoko Nasu can also dream. That leaves only Shiraishi Mizuki.
At this point, you start to find the conjecture rather strange.
Would someone like Mizuki Shiraishi include a character like Hana Hayakawa in their dreams?
Rather, it's more like—
You turned around and grabbed Hayakawa Hana's shoulders tightly, your fingers tightening slightly to force her to look you in the eye. She was trembling with fear from Morita Akira's sudden change, her eyes filled with terror, and a few tears still clung to her cheeks.
"Who suggested coming here?!" Your voice was more urgent, even a little annoyed, than you expected.
Hayakawa Hana shrank her neck, gasping for breath like a drowning person, and answered in a tearful voice, "It's Morita..." She choked back a sob, sniffling as she continued, "It's Morita... He said that Kagehana is very mysterious and will definitely be able to dig up news, maybe even a big one!"
Every word she uttered was distorted, and her gaze darted around, as if she still couldn't accept the reality before her.
“He has always been the smartest of the four of us,” she murmured softly. “He knows I like adventure and the pursuit of the truth in the news… so he always manages to devise great news stories for me to investigate.”
Her eyes were blank: "He always... always made me believe him... I've always believed him..."
"But..." Her voice began to break, as if she was about to collapse, "But what's wrong with him?! Why does his tone sound... like he's been exposed to Shadow Flower before, or even eaten Shadow Flower?"
Her eyes revealed deep confusion and fear. She couldn't understand why her childhood sweetheart, who had always helped and supported her, had become like this.
You snorted and released her shoulder, but still maintained a scrutinizing gaze: "Hayakawa, didn't you ever consider that this 'investigation team' was abnormal from the very beginning?"
Hayakawa Hana paused for a moment, staring blankly at you, not understanding what you meant.
"The four of you have completely different majors and personalities. How can you possibly get together with Morita Akira just because you're childhood friends?"
Your tone was indifferent, yet it carried a gradually increasing pressure, as if you were peeling away layer after layer of sensory stimulation to reveal the simplest logic.
Hayakawa Hana blinked, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to answer, but she hesitated.
"because…"
"because…"
Like a broken robot, she kept repeating the word, but couldn't give a reason.
Her eyes began to glaze over; she was about to crash.
She kept repeating those words, even her expression was exactly the same.
Seeing that she was also unable to speak, you coldly pointed your finger at Shiraishi Mizuki, who was standing to the side.
The latter was holding her picture book, her face still bearing that excessively bright smile. Her narrow eyes were slightly upturned, carrying a kind of nonchalant mockery, as if waiting for you to continue.
You ignored her and continued staring at Hayakawa Hana: "Why is Ishikawa Makoto here? Is he a good friend of Morita Akira?"
"No. They didn't know each other before."
"So it's just because he likes Shiraishi Mizuki, right?"
Hayakawa Hana raised her head, her mouth slightly open, and agreed, "Mizuki is a famous beauty, and all the boys at school like her."
"But a coward like Ishikawa Makoto neither acted like a hero in front of Mizuki to protect her, nor was he ashamed of exposing his incompetence in front of the person he liked. In other words, his feelings for her are completely unfounded." You continued to analyze, "But how could someone like that stay with several strangers and people he doesn't get along with just because he likes them, and not run away immediately after this happened?"
This situation might exist, but this place is just too strange.
Hayakawa Hana pursed her lips, her eyes blank. Your question seems to have hit a nerve with something she can't handle.
“Then,” you continued, your gaze sweeping sharply over Shiraishi Mizuki, “what about Morita Akira? Why does he also have a harmonious relationship with Shiraishi Mizuki? Was he also attracted to her because of her beauty?”
“If there were only two men present, and they both only liked one girl, the story wouldn’t have gone this way.” Countless neon-themed works of art popped into your mind. You smiled at yourself and, ignoring Hayakawa Hana’s still-crazy state, continued, “So, they must have reached some kind of agreement in private.”
You state this fact bluntly, coldly observing Shiraishi Mizuki's reaction.
She didn't refute, nor did she show the slightest surprise. Instead, she raised the corners of her mouth slightly, her smile becoming even sweeter.
A slight unease settled over you, as if you had found the right direction.
"And you, Hayakawa Hana." Your tone was calm, but every word was piercing, "You are the only 'passionate one' in this team."
"He's reckless and hot-blooded. If you weren't the protagonist, you'd just be cannon fodder. But you're still alive and well. You even survived contact with someone like Ishikawa Makoto and haven't shown any signs of illness since."
You see Hayakawa Hana's expression change repeatedly in an instant, finally settling on confusion.
"I'm so stupid. Who said it must be a dream? Although some people are very strange, very strange in a very prominent way, their strangeness is also very stereotypical, which fits some people's fantasies about certain groups." You punched yourself.
"Some people, though positive, are so positive they seem like a fake. They aren't criticized simply because they haven't caused trouble yet."
A few seconds of silence filled the air.
"Ah la la".
Mizuki Shiraishi chuckled softly. Her smile was like melting snow in spring, gentle and clear, yet it carried an unnatural sense of joy.
She slowly hugged her picture book tighter, as if holding some precious treasure. Her narrow eyes stared straight at you, and the corners of her mouth were slightly upturned, with a hint of extreme amusement.
"You're really smart."
Her voice was soft, with a slight upward inflection at the end, carrying a touch of harmless charm.
Honestly, a character like her—beautiful yet innocent, alluring yet extremely wicked, possessing her own personality yet seemingly existing only to satisfy the fetishes of those who pretend to be victims—is truly the epitome of typicality.
She tilted her head, a hint of mockery in her eyes: "But this isn't the world of detectives."
"This is not the world you can escape by finding out the truth."
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