Reincarnated as a Mushroom? Chapter 93 - 92: The Goddess Learns to Restrain Her Claws

Chapter 92: The Goddess Learns to Restrain Her Claws

A week slipped by, not in ceremony or significance, but in the kind of lazy bliss that felt almost unearned after months of chaos, killing, and cosmic weirdness. I was stationed firmly on the couch — throne of the dosticated warlord — sandwiched between Onyx, whose legs were coiled around like a smug python, and Kimchi, who had sohow turned lounging into an artform of seduction.

We were watching garbage. Absolute psychotronic sludge from the entertainnt void — think reality dating shows made by a race of genetically perfect sadists. But honestly? It was great. I’d fought interstellar beasts and stared down gods, but nothing beat the dopamine of judging dumbass contestants while two won who could dismber a tank curled up beside like content jungle cats.

From the corner of my eye, Kimchi flickered — quite literally. A swath of her thigh shifted hue, textures shimring through like oil on water as she activated a new layer of her camouflage armor.

That made... what? Seven, eight outfit cycles so far? Every fifteen minutes or so, like clockwork, she’d shift her outer layer and proudly present herself like a fashion model who could kill you with her kneecaps.

"How about this one, my love?" Kimchi bead up at , batting her lashes like a Disney princess who’d eaten the last prince.

I shifted my arm from her shoulder and casually traced a line down to her breast, giving it a firm, appreciative squeeze through what appeared — deceptively — to be a cotton button-up. "You don’t need to ask every ti," I said with a smirk. "You look devastatingly hot in everything you morph into. But—" My eyes raked downward. "You are only allowed to wear those jeans in front of . Those are mine now."

Kimchi lit up like a reactor core. My possessiveness was heroin to her, and she practically vibrated with joy as she burrowed into my side and began drawing lazy spirals across my chest with a single, sharp fingernail. I didn’t need to look. I’d known Kimchi since before my rebirth, before this universe — and I knew exactly what her body was telling .

She was horny.

Like orbitally destabilized horny.

I was just about to scoop her up and carry her upstairs like a proper gentleman caveman — when the elevator dinged.

Of fucking course.

The doors opened, and in burst a familiar blur of motion and sugar-rush vocal energy: Keyla.

"Irvine!" she chirped, beelining for with the kind of smile that could power a small solar grid. She probably would’ve thrown herself into my arms like a missile of affection if Kimchi weren’t draped across like an organic do-not-touch sign.

Kimchi didn’t move. Her gaze sharpened but remained neutral — barely. She was willing to let this one slide... for now.

"Hey, Keyla," I greeted warmly. "Always a pleasure. What’s up?"

Keyla bead, practically bouncing in place. "Of course it’s a pleasure! I am great. Anyway, Kathrine Hyllus reached out — she said your ’package’ is ready for pickup. Since Mother’s still in genetic rebalancing, I get the honor of escorting you."

Ah. Right. The packages. The mysterious whatever-the-fucks from one of Crystal’s more high-ranking logistics goblins. I’d completely forgotten.

I glanced over at Kimchi. "You’re coming with us, alright?"

Kimchi made a face that said, Do I have to play dress-up with the livestock?, but I knew she’d rather gnaw her own foot off than be left behind.

To sweeten the pot, I leaned in close and whispered sothing just for her ears. "If you behave like a good girl on this trip... I’ll let you feed . Five full minutes. From those."

My hand gave her breast a little squeeze for emphasis.

That was it. Ga over. Kimchi flushed a shade of red-violet and practically levitated off the couch.

"I—I will be waiting downstairs, my love!" she stamred, her voice thick with anticipation. In a flash, her armor shifted into a sharp but alluring outfit — knee-length skirt, tights, high heels, jacket and blouse. Professional and mouthwatering.

She didn’t wait for permission. She just vanished toward the elevator, trembling with barely-contained excitent.

I turned to Onyx, who had barely looked up from the TV.

"You want to co?"

She grinned lazily. "I shall accompany you from within, my Universe. The lazy route, for now."

"Classic."

Turning to Keyla, I clapped my hands. "Alright, gorgeous. Let’s go get dressed. Maybe I’ll let you cop a feel if you do a good job."

She rolled her eyes, already following down the hall. "Let ? Oh no, my guy — if I’m helping you dress, I’m copping. That’s just part of the package. Try and stop ."

Getting dressed took longer than it should’ve, mostly because Keyla kept "accidentally" grazing sensitive areas and pretending not to notice. Thankfully, I’d developed extre resistance to these sorts of antics thanks to Kimchi’s daily horniness gauntlet.

Today’s outfit: a sleek black suit with white accents and gold trim. The inverse of last week’s look. Regal, sharp, slightly villainous — I approved.

"Looks solid," I muttered, adjusting my cuffs. "But why did Sophia only give basic color sches for these suits?"

Keyla shrugged with a wink. "Probably to keep you from causing psychic riots in public."

Fair enough.

We headed down. As I passed Onyx’s sprawled form, she shimred out of view — slipping into my mindscape like the psychic hitchhiker she always was.

The elevator let us off at the lounge bar, and there sat Kimchi — legs crossed, utterly unbothered — while two very stupid n tried very hard to get murdered.

Keyla stopped, glancing between them and . "Should I intervene?"

I waved her off and slid into a booth. "Nah. This’ll be fun. Also, a good impulse control test."

Kimchi didn’t move as Prey One leaned in with a smug grin. "Co on, gorgeous. Why the pout? We’re just trying to be friendly."

"Yeah," Prey Two added with the sleaziest grin this side of an HR violation. "How about a couple drinks? Loosen up those lips."

Kimchi’s voice dropped an octave. "Leave. Now."

Her patience was already a brittle thing. But still, she held on.

"Feisty one," said Prey Two, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Bet you’re wild in—"

Crack.

Kimchi moved faster than my eyes could track. She seized his wrist and ripped his hand clean off.

Prey One barely had ti to gasp before the severed hand was whipped around and backhanded across his face with enough force to knock him out cold.

To silence Prey Two’s rising scream, Kimchi flicked a finger into his throat — a tracheal blitz that shut down his windpipe mid-wail. He staggered, eyes bulging, clutching at his neck stump with his other stump, making pathetic little kkkkghk noises.

Kimchi tossed the hand aside like trash and stood to leave — but then she heard it.

"Well done, my love," I called out, loud and clear. "Honestly thought you were gonna turn them into soup."

She turned, surprised. I was only ten ters away — yet she hadn’t slled ?

Ah. Blood spray. That’ll do it.

She started toward with the eager pride of a dog who’d just torn up the mailman and wanted praise. Then she saw it: Keyla. On my lap. Again.

Kimchi froze.

Then glared.

Then bullied Keyla off with a predatory glare and launched herself into my arms like a guided missile. "Did Kimchi do good? She tried so hard not to kill them! They were so squishy and stupid it was actually harder to not go full berserker."

"You did spectacularly," I said, pulling her close and kissing her hard.

She lted into . Moaned against my lips. Her legs twitched and locked as her body went jelly.

anwhile, Keyla stood over the two twitching bodies. "Rich and Drew," she sighed. "Sha. You guys were alright."

She glanced to the corner, where two girls — Maddy and Mandie, identical twins with mirrored sunglasses — awkwardly hovered.

"Maddy, Mandie! Over here."

They jogged over.

"Sorry we didn’t step in," Maddy said. "We weren’t sure how to deal with... uh... outer family?"

Mandie nodded.

Keyla waved it off. "No biggie. Listen. These two dickheads have officially been ’terminated.’ You understand?"

They nodded.

"Good. Drag them downstairs and get them their... termination package. Also, soone mop up that gore before Diane shows up and throws a tantrum."

The twins each grabbed a man — nearly twice their weight — and hauled them off like groceries.

Back in the booth, Kimchi and I were still tongue-wrestling like we were trying to map each other’s souls through spit. Keyla returned, sat across from us, and stared into the middle distance with the thousand-yard stare of a woman who had seen things she could never unsee.

Seven minutes of passionate saliva exchange later, her tablet pinged. "Air cab’s here," she grumbled.

Separating from Kimchi took effort. Herculean effort. Her legs had turned to pure goo and she could barely stand.

I stayed sitting a mont longer to let my "excitent" subside, lest I flash the entire bar staff with my diplomatic privilege.

Outside, the air cab was waiting — sa docking zone as before. This ti, the driver was a woman, per Keyla’s request, to avoid any repeat of that incident. I wondered if the last guy got fired. Knowing Sophia, he probably got erased from local databases and replaced with a better-behaved cousin.

The ride was smooth. Quiet. No chatter. Just warm bodies, thin smiles, and the aftertaste of adrenaline. I spotted a pod of sea-creatures — dolphin-adjacent — leaping from the water like living joy. I didn’t ask. I just watched.

The cab docked.

Once more, I stood at the front doors of the Hyllus building.

Ti to pick up my package.

Ti to see what fate had pre-ordered for .