Alama and Lorenzo sat on the wooden chairs, while Number Four Puki jumped onto the central wooden table and began its second speech about the great Mushroom Race.
However, repeating the same content for the second time noticeably weakened its momentum. The previous enthusiasm was gone, and the transmission of thoughts became flat and mechanical, like reciting from memory.
After finishing the speech hastily, Number Four Puki seemed somewhat bored, its mycelial tentacles drooped, and it simply plopped down on the rough tabletop.
Lorenzo rubbed his chin, pondered for a moment, and then asked, "So, you Mushroom Tribe are what you call the embodiment of the 'Puki Will'?"
Number Four Puki nodded proudly with its mushroom cap.
Actually, it wanted to mention the Mushroom Lord, but in this exchange, every mention turned into "Puki Will," so it eventually just went along with it.
After all, the will of the Mushroom Lord is the will of all Pukis, saying it like this isn't wrong.
