Synopsis
The knives are out in this fast-paced, standalone Fungalverse novel. Set several months after the events of the award-winning Mushroom Blues, this side story combines the culinary wonder of Jiro Dreams of Sushi, the kitchen chaos of The Bear, and the explosive tension of Hong Kong crime thrillers.
In the aftermath of the “Fuyu Massacre,” riots and whispers of revolution continue to plague the Hōpponese capital of Neo Kinoko. As a result, the iron grip of a foreign military occupation tightens day by day. Amidst this, Pocho Jiro, a once-renowned makizushi chef, has chosen to cook for Duncan MacArthur—the Coprinian Military Governor in Hōppon—as his personal chef… and indentured servant.
A run-in with dangerous fungal gangsters sets off a chain of events that Pocho cannot escape from. He’s left with two choices: Assassinate MacArthur, or watch his beloved sister die in front of his eyes. Will Pocho take up his knife and prepare MacArthur’s final meal?
Review
A Murder Most Fungal takes place in the fungalverse of the Hoffman Report series, but this time we’re seeing it from the inside. Where previous entries showed us fungal culture and society from an outside perspective, this story drops us into the daily life of the Hōpponese people, a mushroom/fungal society that is deeply hierarchical and ceremony-based, drawing rich inspiration from Japanese culture, all while living under the weight of Coprinian occupation. It’s a fascinating shift in perspective, and Gibson handles it beautifully. The language and customs of the Hōpponese are introduced with real care, each new term defined on arrival and then left to stand on its own through context, teaching the reader the culture without grinding the story to a halt. For fantasy worldbuilding, this is very well done.
And the restaurant setting is the perfect vehicle for all of it. Gibson captures restaurant culture with an authenticity that anyone who has worked as a chef, bartender, server, or any other kitchen staff will immediately recognize. That familiar, chaotic, loyal, slightly unhinged energy of a working kitchen becomes the lens through which we encounter the more exotic elements of the fungalverse, and it works brilliantly.
At the center of it all is Pocho, an aging chef of extraordinary skill put in an impossible position. He’s not a young hero making decisive, bold choices. He’s a man who has lived a great portion of his life, carries many regrets, and is trying to hold on to what he can in a world set on destroying him. He chooses to survive not just for himself but for his staff and what’s left of his family family, preparing food for the occupying enemy, for the very leader of the people who have taken his country. As the story progresses, we see that Pocho is no knight in shining armor but a deeply flawed man wrestling with layers of shame and pride all tangled together. There are moments where you want to shake him for being an idiot, and that frustration is itself a testament to how emotionally attached you become to him.
Mori was easily my favorite supporting character, a strong individual whose certainty provides a wonderful contrast to Pocho’s many doubts. Their dynamic adds real texture to a story already rich with internal conflict.
The plot is a great escalation of events as Pocho is pulled deeper and deeper, step by step, into a world of conspiracy and violence he is wholly unprepared for. It dovetails nicely into the next iteration of the Hoffman Report series, rewarding returning readers while standing strong on its own terms. My favorite chapter is a flashback to Pocho’s first restaurant job, a heartwarming moment in an otherwise brutal story that reminded me why I was rooting for this complicated man in the first place.
The prose is serviceable and stays out of the story’s way, though the dialogue can occasionally feel a little too similar between characters in how they express certain emotions. These are minor things in a book that gets so much right.
A Murder Most Fungal is a deeply felt story about occupation, survival, pride, and the lengths we go to in order to protect the people who depend on us. If you’re already invested in the fungalverse, this entry will deepen your understanding of it in ways you didn’t expect. And if you’ve ever found family in the chaos of a kitchen, Pocho’s world will feel strangely, beautifully familiar.
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