Though the Demon Tide had subsided, its aftermath was far from over.

The fifth floor, ravaged by the surge, was a wasteland.

A third of the forest had burned, set alight by fire-breathing beetles, leaving blackened trunks jutting from cracked soil.

Another third had been toppled by giant monsters, thirty-meter trees uprooted, their trunks scarred with claw marks and footprints.

The forest’s area had shrunk by nearly seventy percent. Where once the canopy blocked all light, huge patches of glowing ceiling were now exposed.

Still, the fallen trees could serve as fertile beds for mushroom cultivation, so Lin Jun found this acceptable.

The poison fog lake, however, was a tragedy.

The venomous three-headed serpent had rampaged through half the floor, leaving a trail of dark-green toxic crust where nothing survived. The lake happened to be along its path.

It should probably be called “Poison Lake” now.

All native life had perished in the dark-green waters, dead fish and shrimp littering the shores and rotting.

The toxin seeped into the surrounding soil as well, making it impossible for any plants—or Lin Jun’s mushrooms—to grow nearby.

Though he had poison resistance, it was only LV4. Spores scattered there withered instantly.

But the place wasn’t entirely dead.

A small dragon-beast, resembling a scaled salamander, had made the toxic waters its home.

【Race: Dragon Beast – Miraji】

【Racial Trait: Membrane (body entirely shielded inside and out)】

Lin Jun had no idea how a “membrane” could fully block such toxins, but somehow, they did.

With their natural poison resistance, the Miraji thrived in the lake.

A shame racial traits couldn’t be stolen—imagine Pujis wrapped in protective membranes!

Still, Lin Jun doubted they’d last.

They were feeding on the corpses along the shore, but supplies would run out soon.

And with the lake’s ecosystem destroyed, starvation loomed.

He considered raising them—they had the [Scale Armor] skill, after all.

But could they eat mushrooms?

The lake and forest were the most devastated areas.

The caves had collapsed by his own doing—re-digging them would take ages.

Only the swamps remained unchanged.

Though his mycelium carpets there were trampled, the swamps themselves had survived. In fact, with so many corpses piled within, the mana density had grown richer.

One of the few bits of good news.

Meanwhile, the ceiling’s fungal carpets were completely untouched.

Even during the Demon Tide, no flying monsters had bothered to waste time attacking the ceiling mushrooms.

Now, their caps trembled gently.

Stored spores cascaded down in pale blue and gray flurries, a snowfall of life across the ruined floor.

Though some monsters still roamed, their numbers weren’t enough to pose a serious threat. It was time to restore the mushroom garden.

On the mycelium carpet beside Dylan’s ruined cabin—

A brand-new Puji was born.

Lin Jun had high hopes for this one.

It broke free of the carpet, bouncing upright, full of vigor.

A pair of claws scooped it up. The Dragonkin bit down.

“How does it taste?” Lin Jun asked.

Her bite couldn’t sever the mycelium at once—she had to tear it apart before chewing.

She gnawed repeatedly before swallowing.

“This one’s tasty. I like it!”

Good. This was his specially optimized “spicy stick Puji”!

Besides [Mana Storage LV6], it also had [Toughness LV5].

“Then when you finish eating, go hunt some monsters for me. When you’re back, I’ll give you more of these.”

She nodded while chewing. Fighting for food was familiar to her—but instead of leathery lizards and stinking rats, she now got chewy, bouncy mushrooms.

She was quite satisfied.

“By the way, do you have a name?”

Lin Jun had wanted to ask this for a while.

Normally, panels displayed names. But hers didn’t.

Was it because she had none? Or because he couldn’t see it?

She could speak, though her words were odd. Lin Jun suspected Dragon-tongue.

But with language came names.

Yet she shook her head as she chewed.

“No name. Big Dragon said weak ones don’t get names.”

…What.

So by that logic, he didn’t deserve one either.

“Big Dragon? Was that terrifying dragon from before your mother?”

At the mention, she shivered.

“No. That was Mama. Big Dragon is much smaller than Mama.”

So she really was that dragon’s child!

But why be so terrified of her own mother? Was it some cranky menopausal dragoness?

And “Big Dragon” seemed to be another dragon entirely. Did they all live together?

“Then what do they call you?”

“Svirgis.”

“Then isn’t your name Svirgis?”

She shook her head. “No. All weak ones are Svirgis.”

Ah. A generic label, like “lowborn.”

Lin Jun could picture their brutal society—where the weak weren’t worthy of names.

But he couldn’t keep calling her “hey you.”

“Svirgis” felt clunky, too.

“How about I just give you a nickname? Not a real name, just something to call you.”

She shook her head firmly. “When strong, will have name!”

So she didn’t want him naming her. She actually had ambition.

Lin Jun sighed.

“At least let me call you something simpler. Not a name, just… a tag. How about ‘Gray(Little Black)’? Not a name, just what I’ll call you.”

It wasn’t that he lacked imagination—it was just temporary. No need to overthink.

She tilted her head, considered it, then nodded.

Deal struck.

By the time the “spicy stick Puji” was finally finished—indeed, [Toughness] made it last longer—“Gray(Little Black)” stretched her limbs and bounded off happily to fight monsters.

Lin Jun then noticed her panel had changed.

【Name: Gray(Little Black)】

【Race: Dragonkin】

…

Sorry!

I should have put more thought into it!

Didn’t I say it wasn’t a name!? What kind of broken system is this!?