You were given the authority to tame beasts, not to raise unspeakable animals.

Chapter 15 Isn't this just the back garden?

I pushed open the massive bronze door. The expected gloom and darkness were nowhere to be found. Light poured down, almost blindingly so, piercing my eyes.

There were no bricks or tiles overhead. Only countless mycelia intertwined and shimmered, weaving a false, dazzling sky. The humus beneath one's feet was thick and soft. When the soles of one's boots sank in, they squeezed out a crimson juice, as if one had stepped on a pile of fresh entrails.

The air was filled with the aroma of ripe fruit, mixed with honey and the scent of roasted meat. It was so thick it almost choked my throat, and went straight to the deepest part of my nasal cavity.

"The Garden of Bliss...?"

One of the team members fastened the buckle and removed his gas mask. He didn't even bother to look at his teammates. He just stared fixedly at the strange plants in front of him, his eyes unmoving.

Those can't even be considered flowers or plants.

The flower buds were enormous, resembling freshly cut tumors. The bluish-purple veins beneath the skin throbbed, seemingly breathing in and out air. The leaves were covered with cartilaginous tissue resembling human ears. They trembled in the wind, as if collecting the heartbeats of any outsider.

In the very center of the garden, that colossal tree stretched across the sky.

The bark had long since peeled away, leaving only the crimson flesh exposed. Hundreds, even thousands, of desiccated corpses hung from the branches, leafless. These were the husks of lost souls who had wandered the past. The wind clattered against them, making them the only musical instruments in this desolate place.

"Don't pick it!"

The hound's mind was buzzing. But his survival instinct kicked in, and he reacted quickly. He rushed over and slapped the teammate across the face. "Put it back on! This fragrance is poisonous!"

It's too late.

The man ignored the mask lying on the ground and instead raised his hand to scratch his cheek. Before his mouth could fully open in a grin, his expression was strangely relaxed.

"Captain... my face is so itchy... I'm going to burst open."

puff.

A tender green branch pierced through the eyeball, peeking out directly from the eye socket. Then came the nostrils, ear canals, and mouth. More vines grew wildly, tearing apart the combat suit. In an instant, they filled the body into a human-shaped flowerpot.

"Aaaaaah!"

Screams tore through the defenses.

"Enemy attack! S-rank Guardian! Rotting Treant!"

The hunting dog raised its gun to fire. But a piercing pain shot through its wrist, freezing its hand in mid-air.

Looking down, I saw that the skin on the back of my hand had hardened, revealing rough, brown wood-like grain. A numb sensation traveled up my veins, heading straight for my heart.

This isn't poison; it's the laws of this place rewriting life.

"roar!"

The trunk of the giant tree split open in the middle. Three pale human faces emerged, arranged in a triangular formation. The three mouths opened simultaneously. The overlapping and resonating howls almost blew the skulls off people.

The shockwave swept across.

Before the remaining twenty-odd beast tamers could even communicate with their soul imprints, they all fell to their knees.

The flesh and blood in his legs rapidly hardened, transforming into gnarled, intertwined tree roots. They greedily plunged into the crimson swamp. Despair, before death could strike, took over his mind.

"It's over... the Black Goat offspring have mutated..."

The hound braced itself on the ground, its eyes bloodshot. To keep himself from going mad, he reversed the gun. The gold-plated stock slammed heavily into his own thighbone.

Click.

The pain of a broken bone was like a raging fire, briefly burning through that layer of chaotic illusion.

But once the vision cleared, the terror only increased.

The rotting tree-men rose from the ground. What had been buried deep underground were not plant roots, but countless tentacles. Dragging their slimy, viscous sap, they slowly wriggled closer. It was the reaper's approach to the lambs to the slaughter.

"God..." The hound clutched the silver cross on its chest, its knuckles turning white. "If you are watching over us from heaven, please deliver your judgment..."

Just as everyone was quietly awaiting their death.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The crisp sound of leather shoes hitting the ground signaled the start of the battle. The rhythm was so leisurely it was almost jarring.

The hound strained to raise its neck, its vision blurred and bloodshot. And just like that, the figure burst in.

Chen Mo wore a gas mask and bright yellow industrial earplugs in his ears. Hands in his pockets, he walked leisurely. It didn't look like an expedition; it looked more like a stroll.

As the spore dust drifting in the air passed by him, its trajectory was abruptly altered.

A few vines tentatively tried to touch his clothes. Before they could even make contact, they recoiled as if electrocuted, scurrying back into the soil in a panic.

"Chen Mo...run..." The hound's throat was full of blood and foam.

Chen Mo ignored him. Without pausing, he continued straight toward the enormous plant.

What others saw as a nightmare, he saw nothing more than a jumble of moving data code. His all-seeing eye swept over it, and red characters cascaded down like a waterfall:

【Race: Rotten Treant (Black Goat Cub - Degenerate Version)】

[Position: Gardener on the Outer Edge of R'lyeh (ID 9527)]

[Current Status: I've been slacking off for millennia, and I'm currently grumpy upon waking up.]

[Weakness: Extremely afraid of the aura of those in positions of authority, especially the one in your backpack]

Chen Mo stood still in front of the wildly swirling roots, his figure ridiculously thin.

Three human faces on the tree trunk looked down with mockery. A root as thick as two people could hug rose up, then slammed down with a stench, determined to crush the disturbing insect into mincemeat.

"What are you moving about?"

The voice behind the mask was somewhat distorted and sounded lazy.

He didn't dodge, nor did he even look up. Just as that tendril was about to shatter his skull, he raised his right foot and casually kicked it.

Bang.

The sole of the shoe struck the tree root with a dull thud, as if it had hit a piece of rotten wood.

This force was nothing more than a tickle to the behemoth. Yet the mental pressure attached to that kick was enough to crush the entire abyss.

The backpack swayed slightly, and the creature within opened its eyelids. A dark aura from the ancient depths of the sea poured out with Chen Mo's movement.

That was a royal decree to its subjects: [Kneel down.]

The screen is frozen.

The giant root that was hanging less than half an inch above Chen Mo's head stopped its momentum and remained motionless.