After entering the forest, the atmosphere changed instantly.
The thick pine trees blocked most of the sunlight, making the woods feel dark and cold. The ground was covered in a soft, wet layer of dead leaves. It felt like walking on a thick carpet. The air was filled with the scent of pine resin, damp earth, and rotting leaves.
Ishaan Rao stopped acting like the "polite boy" he was in front of his neighbor. His eyes became sharp and focused, like a predator entering a hunt.
Making money was his first priority.
He did not walk aimlessly. Instead, he observed the plants carefully. Morels—known as the "King of Fungi"—do not grow everywhere. They like deciduous forests, especially areas that have experienced forest fires or places near dead elm trees.
Last summer in Wyoming was very dry. There had been several small forest fires in the Teton Mountains. This was his best clue.
Ishaan used a dry branch to clear his path as he moved deeper into the woods. After walking for two hours, his pants were wet from the morning dew, and he was exhausted. His body was healthy, but he was not yet used to the high altitude. His breathing became heavy.
"In a normal web novel, a 'system' would give me a notification now, right?" Ishaan joked to himself as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.
But he had no system. He only had his eyes.
Suddenly, he stopped in front of a gentle slope. There was a small open space where several giant dead elm trees lay on the ground, covered in thick moss. Most importantly, the soil was a deep black color—a mix of wood ash from the fires and organic matter.
The temperature, humidity, and soil pH were perfect.
Ishaan held his breath and walked forward quietly. He knelt beside a rotting trunk and gently moved the leaves.
In this world, if there is anything that makes the heart beat faster than a woman's body, it is money.
One, two... there was a whole patch!
Small, dark-brown mushroom caps looked like honeycombs. They were peeking out from under the dead leaves. Some were as small as a thumb, others as large as a fist.
Black Morels!
This was a top-quality variety. Based on the price list, these fresh mushrooms could sell for at least $80 per pound. If dried, the price would triple. But Ishaan needed cash now; he could not wait to dry them.
"I'm going to be rich," Ishaan's hands shook slightly.
He quickly pulled out his folding knife. He carefully cut the stems, making sure not to damage the underground roots. This was not just for the environment; it was to ensure this place would remain his "ATM" for years to come.
Soon, his basket was half full. It weighed at least six pounds. This was just from one small area.
As Ishaan enjoyed his harvest, he heard an unusual noise.
Snap!
It was the sound of a heavy object breaking a branch. It was definitely not a squirrel or a rabbit.
Ishaan froze. The hair on his neck stood up. He remembered Sophia's warning: black bears or mountain lions. He slowly put down the mushrooms and reached for the double-barreled shotgun on his back. He stayed low to the ground.
The heavy footsteps came closer, accompanied by loud breathing and...
"Fck! These stupid bushes! Dmn you, Rajesh!"
It was a man's voice, filled with anger and the smell of alcohol.
A human?
Ishaan's grip on the gun loosened slightly, but his eyes became curious. Why was a drunk man on his private land?
He peeked from behind a tree trunk. Fifty meters away, he saw a middle-aged white man in a dirty denim jacket with a large beer belly. He was struggling through the bushes. He had no gun, but he was carrying a shovel. He looked nervous, as if he were looking for something.
Ishaan narrowed his eyes.
Old Harris. Sophia's "useless" husband who was supposed to be "sleeping like a dead pig."
Why was he here? Why was he digging on the mountain Rajesh left behind?
"Interesting," Ishaan thought.
Ishaan did not reveal himself. In Wyoming, it is legal to shoot a trespasser, but he did not want to waste a bullet. Information was more valuable than lead. He hid in the bushes like a ghost and watched.
Old Harris stopped under a crooked pine tree. He looked around nervously, then began to dig frantically at the roots.
A few minutes later, Harris pulled a rusty iron box out of the hole. He opened it and looked inside. A greedy and cruel smile appeared on his face. He quickly hid the box inside his jacket and left in a hurry.
The whole process took less than ten minutes.
After Harris disappeared, Ishaan came out of hiding. He looked at his basket of mushrooms, then at the hole in the ground.
"It seems this lonely ranch is more exciting than I thought."
Ishaan rubbed his chin. He had the mushrooms for "seed money," and he had discovered his neighbor's husband's secret. How should he use this information with Sophia? How could he use this secret to make that lonely wife belong to him completely?
He picked up his basket, slung his gun, and started walking back.
Tonight's beef pie would be very delicious.
Ishaan waited until he was sure Harris's old Chevy had disappeared down the highway. Then, he returned to the broken wooden house.
He was in no hurry to find out what was in the box. In the wild West, knowing too much without being able to protect yourself is dangerous.
The first goal was to get cash.
Ishaan went to the messy storage room. On top of a greasy tool cabinet, he found a set of keys. They belonged to a 1995 Ford F-150.