Fog town, a place where the story tellers gather. A young man sat near the campfire scratching his black horn, as his eyes showed a disturbed look.

"What's the problem Mefisto." His companion asked as he sat beside him.

"Not much Silva," answered Mefisto. "Just that someone have changed one of the urban legend I have."

"Which one?" The companion named Silva asked.

"Mushroom-man."

"Good riddance, I was seriously scared it was King of Yellow and Black or perhaps Moth-man."

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"Don't laugh, it's a serious matter."

"Mefisto." Silva asked."Why would a demon care of the urban legends that represents goodness and healing gets changed."

"Well I have my reasons so can't say." Mefisto replied.

Sliva then asked with a sneer. "Oh great demon king of salvation. Haha. What were the changes."

Sighing the demon replied. "Everything."

Monsoon have come, little one,

Have Mushroom-man you never heard.

Dirty the place where he belongs,

Dirty the place where he come from.

His head misshaped with fungi and green plants,

Crimson of young is what he wants.

And during monsoon no matter you can't,

Traverse the lonely allies whenever you want.

If you see his silhouette, run!

Never answer to his question.

For answer is his final rite,

Now there are more Mushroom-man to fight.