Reincarnated as a Mushroom? Chapter 78 - 77: The Poison That Loves and the Woman Who Bit

Chapter 77: The Poison That Loves and the Woman Who Bites

Before I could even register the silhouette in the doorway — before my brain could slap a na onto the invading presence — a blur of ivory and want was already airborne.

No killing intent. No warning. No sha.

She didn’t crash into so much as arrive — like a desire long overdue. My body was pinned to the back of the couch, breath stolen, as warm lips collided with mine and a tongue swept inside like it had paid rent. I blinked. I gurgled. Sowhere in my soul, a warning flare sputtered but fizzled out. Instinctively, my hands had landed on the sides of the assailant, brushing curves that didn’t belong to Kimchi.

Bang.

A wet sound of aty force snapped reality back into sequence.

The weight was ripped off with an audible crack of displaced air. My field of vision filled with silk-smooth thighs, floral-scented hair, and the unmistakable growl of soone two seconds from mass murder.

Kimchi, glorious and unamused, was now crouched atop in a predatory sprawl, one hand still extended from the haymaker she’d just delivered — her fist steaming slightly from the friction.

Across the room, the flying intruder lay splayed out against the wall, half-laughing and half-stunned.

Maul, previously indulging in a well-earned drink, now moved like a vault door on springs. From a compartnt in his goddamn chest — yes, his chest — he produced a shotgun that looked more like a tal brick with a trigger.

But before he could deliver the sermon of buckshot, the dazed blonde goddess against the wall raised a hand and spoke.

"Stand down, hired gun."

The voice.

Velvet woven from arias and threats. It dripped with command, wrapped in a flirt, layered in honey. Even Maul hesitated. She rubbed the side of her temple where Kimchi had decorated her with bruising affection and chuckled.

"I knew the odds. I knew the consequences. I simply couldn’t resist the gamble." She tossed a card toward Maul without looking. He caught it with one hand, the shotgun still half-cocked in the other.

"You sure you’re alright, Lady Sophia?" he asked warily, eyes flicking between Kimchi and like we were unexploded ordnance.

"Oh, please. Just a lover’s quarrel between sisters." She grinned wide enough to make my skin itch. "Isn’t that right, Kimchi dear?"

Kimchi said nothing, her golden gaze still hard enough to scratch glass. But she backed off, sliding off with deliberate control, never turning her back to the intruder. Maul, choosing survival over explanations, holstered his shotgun back into his own body and muttered:

"Good luck, man. I’m taking a vacation on Euc-3." He stomped out with the resignation of a soldier who had seen far too much.

Now freed from biological weight and imminent violence, I sat up and finally got a proper look at the woman who’d just kissed without consent and gotten socked into a wall for it.

Sophia.

She stood like the climax of a perfu ad — all posture and perfection, with the arrogance of a planet-killer. About 5’10, with legs that had clearly been sculpted in a lab, she had hair the color of sunlight filtered through heaven’s own bloodlust. Golden, radiant, and loose around her shoulders like a lioness mid-strut. Her eyes were bluer than a neutron storm, gleaming with delight as if the punch had just turned her on.

Her cheekbones could slice vegetables. Her lips were naturally red, slightly swollen from the kiss, and I felt genuinely uncomfortable thinking about them. A thin nose, perfectly balanced. Jewelry made of actual starlight — or close enough in cost. A white dress clung to her like it had given up trying not to sin. Her cleavage was loud. It sang in soprano.

And she smiled.

"Hmm," I humd, brushing imaginary dust from my clothes. "As far as first impressions go, that was certainly... interactive."

"My deepest apologies, my sweet," Sophia said with a voice dipped in silk and shalessness. "I rarely link myself to the Hive these days, so I don’t get to feel you as vividly as our other sisters do. The mont I laid eyes on you, my instincts... flared."

She tilted her head, watching with open hunger. "Let us do this properly — as your kind might. It’s a pleasure to et you, Irvine. I am Sophia."

I stood, brushing off the wrinkled remnants of my personal space. "The pleasure’s mine, my love. I’m Irvine."

Because love wasn’t just sothing you earned in this Hive — it was built into the code.

Sophia shuddered. Full-body. Her breath hitched in what sounded suspiciously like a pre-orgasmic gasp, and her legs shifted in a very intentional sort of way. The phrase "my love" clearly did things to her. Terrible, beautiful, unspeakable things.

She wanted . Wanted to taste, touch, consu, claim.

But Kimchi’s death-glare burned through her delusions like a solar flare through paper.

Sophia’s smile twitched. "So serious, sister," she murmured. "You could loosen up."

But she knew better. They were the sa gene-caste, yes. Both infiltrator types — seduction, integration, parasitic charm. But Kimchi had been designed with a higher biomass quotient. Built for war. Built for . Sophia knew she could win with charm. She couldn’t win with claws.

Then, a sudden shift.

Sophia’s expression changed — a flicker of disdain tinged her beauty. She looked past , just barely, and sighed. "Ronnie, dear. Why are you still in the room?"

Ronnie froze like a guilty dog under divine spotlight.

"I—I didn’t an to intrude, Mother. I was worried when you got punched by Mistress Kimchi and forgot to excuse myself... I—I’m sorry, please forgive —"

Sophia’s smile returned, slightly patronizing. "Yes, yes, I understand, Ronnie. You may go now. I’m sure your family downstairs misses your presence. Your father and I need to... discuss matters."

Her gaze returned to . Like I was lunch and dessert in one tall glass.

Ronnie, eager to escape, was halfway to the door before she called again.

"Oh, one more thing, darling."

"Yes, Mother?" he asked, turning.

"You’ve been gone over a month. You may have two treats."

There was a pause.

Then Ronnie exploded with childlike glee, sprinting out of the room like a lunatic. "TWO!!!"

The door hissed closed behind him.

---

I tilted my head, curiosity bubbling. "Treats?"

Sophia eased herself onto the couch beside — far too close — casting a smug look at Kimchi that said I know what you’re thinking and I’m doing it anyway.

"Oh, just a little sothing for our most loyal pets," she purred. "A hand-sized sphere of pure biomass, infused with a concentrated dose of my unique poison. Enough to keep their parasite bonds happily fed for weeks."

She glanced at Kimchi with a smile that had venom under every syllable. "You know. The good stuff."

Kimchi remained still, unreadable. But I could feel her tension through the link — not jealousy. Not possessiveness. Just wariness.

I rubbed my chin. "Crystal taught about that. The parasite bonding. The euphoria. The addiction spiral. It was fascinating."

Sophia leaned in. "Would you like a taste, my sweet? Kimchi lacks the gene-coding for the poison. But I could share mine. Just a drop. Your first ti should always be... morable."

I considered it. Then I nodded.

Without breaking eye contact, Sophia slid one finger between her lips. Pulled it out slowly. A clear, light-yellow fluid clung to her nail — like honey refracted through firelight.

"Only a drop?" I asked, eyebrow raised.

"More than enough," she said, eyes glowing.

She dripped it into a nearby glass of water, stirred, then handed it to with a smile that could lt cities.

"I hope you enjoy my secretion."

Every human instinct I had scread nope. But I had been raised in the arms of monsters. This wasn’t new. This was... Tuesday.

I drank.

---

The mont it hit my throat, there was nothing. No taste. No burn.

But inside my Mindspace?

Chaos.

I closed my eyes — and opened them again within.

The familiar spiraling reality of my inner sanctum swirled into form. Onyx was already there, waving from the horizon.

"This way, darling! Quickly!"

I ran toward her. She stood near the edge of my ntal barrier — the psychic fortress that protected my selfhood from outside intrusion.

Beyond it, sothing waited.

"It’s on the outside," she said. "But it ans no harm. It waits for permission."

I nodded. I opened the gate.

The parasite was... beautiful.

Small, caterpillar-shaped, translucent. A ghost with texture. A dream with tiny wings. It zipped toward in playful loops before finally brushing against my projected skin.

And then—

Euphoria.

Raw. Irresistible. Sexual. Emotional. Cellular.

I gasped. "By all that is psionic!"

The rush cascaded through like sunlight through stained glass. I laughed, nearly crying. "Well, aren’t you a dangerous little cunt."

This... this is how they did it.

The parasite didn’t attack the Origin like I’d expected. It danced. It courted. And when the ti ca, it would bond — not by force, but by desire. And once the connection ford? You’d crave it again. And again.

The poison set a tir in your soul.

Too long without it? You’d crawl back.

And each ti, you got closer. Closer to belonging. Closer to worship. That was the trap. That was the beauty.

I smiled at the thing, hovering before like a living addiction.

"Well then," I murmured. "What shall we do with you, little one?"

---

End of Chapter