What do you think?
Rate this book
Hofmann Report #1.5
A Murder Most Fungal: The Hofmann Report #1.5
Return to the mushroom metropolis of Neo Kinoko, immerse yourself in a sinister world of gangsters, blackmail, and fungal cuisine, and prepare for a Michelin-star tragedy in six courses.
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?
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?
- GenresFantasy
292 pages, Kindle Edition
Published June 16, 2026
About the author
Adrian M. Gibson
3 books151 followersAdrian M. Gibson is an award-winning Canadian SFF author, podcaster, book designer, and tattoo artist. He is the creator of the SFF Addicts podcast, which he co-hosts with fellow authors M.J. Kuhn and Greta Kelly. The three host in-depth interviews with an array of science fiction and fantasy authors, as well as writing masterclasses. And, as of May 2026, he is the Publishing Project Manager for Grimdark Magazine, heading up their line of fantasy and sci-fi novellas. He lives in Quito, Ecuador with his family.
For the latest updates, follow Adrian on social media @adrianmgibson. You can also stream/watch new episodes of SFF Addicts every Tuesday on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube, and more.
For the latest updates, follow Adrian on social media @adrianmgibson. You can also stream/watch new episodes of SFF Addicts every Tuesday on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube, and more.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 24 of 24 reviews
Review of advance copy received from Author
This review was originally published on Grimdark Magazine
4.25 stars
Ever since falling head over heels in love with Mushroom Blues, I have been dying to see what Adrian M. Gibson would cook up next, and while A Murder Most Fungal was absolutely not what I expected, it turned out to be exactly what I didn’t know I needed. It kind of feels like if you took the mafia family drama of Jade City, blended it with the kitchen chaos of The Bear, and served it up as a Michelin-star tragedy in six courses. And honestly, I gobbled up every single bit of the tension, drama and messy emotional turmoil.
Now, while A Murder Most Fungal is technically book 1.5 in The Hofmann Report series, it actually works perfectly as a standalone, and you can genuinely treat it as either a tantalising appetiser before reading Mushroom Blues or a delectable dessert afterwards. It’s set a few months after the events of the first book, in the aftermath of the Fuyu Massacre as riots, unrest, and whispers of revolution continue to spread through Neo Kinoko while the Coprinian military occupation tightens its grip on the city. Though instead of following Henrietta Hofmann, we’re thrown into the head of an entirely different character who gives us a completely different perspective on this wonderfully weird fungal world, and I absolutely loved that.
“The Coprinians may have invaded and occupied his home, but circumstances dictated that Pocho be more pragmatic. In these unprecedented circumstances, it came down to survival, at all costs. For him and his cooks. And if that meant being the personal chef for the very leader of the occupation, then so be it… It is my duty, he thinks to himself, obscuring the thought from prying fungal minds.”
The grumpy chef Pocho Jiro immediately captured my heart, despite the fact that he honestly does not make it easy to love him. Once a celebrated makizushi chef, he’s now stuck serving as the personal chef and essentially indentured servant to Duncan MacArthur, the military governor responsible for helping maintain that occupation. Which is already a miserable situation before a run-in with some dangerous fungal gangsters leaves Pocho with an impossible choice: assassinate MacArthur or watch his beloved sister die. Safe to say, my old man is not exactly thriving here.
If there’s one thing Gibson is exceptionally good at, though, it’s making me root for morally messy people while they stumble through life making questionable decisions and then having to deal with the painful consequences afterwards. I absolutely ate up the emotional turmoil and inner battles Pocho goes through, and I found his character arc incredibly powerful in the most tragically beautiful way. Watching him wrestle with impossible choices, guilt, grief, loyalty, and the cost of his own ambition was genuinely heartbreaking, and his character arc hit me especially hard because it feels tragic without ever feeling hopeless.
“As a cook, the kitchen is your everything. Say goodbye to friends and family, for the chefs around you will become your friends and family. And say goodbye to love, for food will become your one true love, forever and always.”
What I also really loved was finally getting a native Hōpponese perspective on Neo Kinoko in A Murder Most Fungal, especially one as complicated as Pocho. As much as I came to love Henrietta, she spends a lot of Mushroom Blues viewing the city through a very human lens that ranges from bewilderment to outright hostility, while getting to experience the city through Pocho instead made me appreciate Gibson’s freakishly fantastic imagination in a whole new way. The culture truly feels so rich and lived in, and I just love how the worldbuilding here is so much more than just a cool fungal aesthetic. It was equally fascinating and heartbreaking to see the present-day city and the version that existed before everything went to hell through the flashbacks before each new part, or should I say each new dish? Because yes, the six-course structure was delightful and I am always a sucker for a thematic gimmick that only makes the tragedy of the story hit even harder.
“He yearns for the intimacy of a home that he can feel and connect with. Mycelium doors that open at his touch. Mushroom lamps that dim or brighten based on his emotional state. Fungal furniture that he can nurture in collaboration with the home itself. Little fruiting bodies that grow around doors and entrances, spiritual guardians that protect the space from evil spirits. Even gills and porous surfaces that filter and absorb the smell of his smoking habit. But that home is long gone.”
Yet my favourite aspect of having the Hōpponese perspective was getting to experience the fungalnet through Pocho’s eyes, as this was already one of my favourite aspects of Mushroom Blues. The way Gibson uses it to create a divide between outward expressions and the private thoughts and emotions being shared underneath adds so much nuance to every interaction, and I especially loved how it squeezed even more tension out of the thriller elements as there are constantly multiple layers of conversations, secrets, threats, and emotional undercurrents happening at once that humans would never understand. I do think the side cast fell a bit flat compared to Pocho, but this deep level of complexity to the characters honestly mostly made up for the lack of emotional connection for me.
As dark and twisted as it all sounds, A Murder Most Fungal honestly surprised me with how much human heart it has, and on a personal level it actually ended up being weirdly healing for me. See, you can feel the passion and love that Pocho (and Gibson) has for cooking and the culinary arts bleeding off every page, and as someone who has (had) a very complicated relationship with food, I found it genuinely beautiful to see food portrayed as so much more than simple sustenance. It’s culture, it’s history, it’s art, it’s connection, it’s love, and it’s a way of sharing pieces of yourself with other people and bridging divides. It’s also, admittedly, occasionally a vehicle for murder, extortion, organised crime, and political violence, but I feel like Pocho would prefer it if we did not linger on that too long.
“By blood and by spores, across space and time, the spirits of all shinkin are eternally intertwined. For death is not an end; the lives of the dead persist through memories, and memories are what the living are made of.”
I absolutely devoured A Murder Most Fungal in a single day, and I’m still kind of amazed by how much Gibson managed to fit into less than 300 pages. Not every twist of the knife hurt as much as it could or should have, but the overall experience still left me deeply satisfied in the most bittersweet way possible. The final chapter opens some very exciting doors for Pocho’s future role in the series, and I am already hungry for more. All I can really say is: chef’s kiss. Adrian M. Gibson cooked, and I cleaned my plate.
Thank you to the author for providing me with an eARC in exchange for an honest review, all opinions are my own. A Murder Most Fungal is scheduled for release on 16 June, 2026.
4.25 stars
Ever since falling head over heels in love with Mushroom Blues, I have been dying to see what Adrian M. Gibson would cook up next, and while A Murder Most Fungal was absolutely not what I expected, it turned out to be exactly what I didn’t know I needed. It kind of feels like if you took the mafia family drama of Jade City, blended it with the kitchen chaos of The Bear, and served it up as a Michelin-star tragedy in six courses. And honestly, I gobbled up every single bit of the tension, drama and messy emotional turmoil.
Now, while A Murder Most Fungal is technically book 1.5 in The Hofmann Report series, it actually works perfectly as a standalone, and you can genuinely treat it as either a tantalising appetiser before reading Mushroom Blues or a delectable dessert afterwards. It’s set a few months after the events of the first book, in the aftermath of the Fuyu Massacre as riots, unrest, and whispers of revolution continue to spread through Neo Kinoko while the Coprinian military occupation tightens its grip on the city. Though instead of following Henrietta Hofmann, we’re thrown into the head of an entirely different character who gives us a completely different perspective on this wonderfully weird fungal world, and I absolutely loved that.
“The Coprinians may have invaded and occupied his home, but circumstances dictated that Pocho be more pragmatic. In these unprecedented circumstances, it came down to survival, at all costs. For him and his cooks. And if that meant being the personal chef for the very leader of the occupation, then so be it… It is my duty, he thinks to himself, obscuring the thought from prying fungal minds.”
The grumpy chef Pocho Jiro immediately captured my heart, despite the fact that he honestly does not make it easy to love him. Once a celebrated makizushi chef, he’s now stuck serving as the personal chef and essentially indentured servant to Duncan MacArthur, the military governor responsible for helping maintain that occupation. Which is already a miserable situation before a run-in with some dangerous fungal gangsters leaves Pocho with an impossible choice: assassinate MacArthur or watch his beloved sister die. Safe to say, my old man is not exactly thriving here.
If there’s one thing Gibson is exceptionally good at, though, it’s making me root for morally messy people while they stumble through life making questionable decisions and then having to deal with the painful consequences afterwards. I absolutely ate up the emotional turmoil and inner battles Pocho goes through, and I found his character arc incredibly powerful in the most tragically beautiful way. Watching him wrestle with impossible choices, guilt, grief, loyalty, and the cost of his own ambition was genuinely heartbreaking, and his character arc hit me especially hard because it feels tragic without ever feeling hopeless.
“As a cook, the kitchen is your everything. Say goodbye to friends and family, for the chefs around you will become your friends and family. And say goodbye to love, for food will become your one true love, forever and always.”
What I also really loved was finally getting a native Hōpponese perspective on Neo Kinoko in A Murder Most Fungal, especially one as complicated as Pocho. As much as I came to love Henrietta, she spends a lot of Mushroom Blues viewing the city through a very human lens that ranges from bewilderment to outright hostility, while getting to experience the city through Pocho instead made me appreciate Gibson’s freakishly fantastic imagination in a whole new way. The culture truly feels so rich and lived in, and I just love how the worldbuilding here is so much more than just a cool fungal aesthetic. It was equally fascinating and heartbreaking to see the present-day city and the version that existed before everything went to hell through the flashbacks before each new part, or should I say each new dish? Because yes, the six-course structure was delightful and I am always a sucker for a thematic gimmick that only makes the tragedy of the story hit even harder.
“He yearns for the intimacy of a home that he can feel and connect with. Mycelium doors that open at his touch. Mushroom lamps that dim or brighten based on his emotional state. Fungal furniture that he can nurture in collaboration with the home itself. Little fruiting bodies that grow around doors and entrances, spiritual guardians that protect the space from evil spirits. Even gills and porous surfaces that filter and absorb the smell of his smoking habit. But that home is long gone.”
Yet my favourite aspect of having the Hōpponese perspective was getting to experience the fungalnet through Pocho’s eyes, as this was already one of my favourite aspects of Mushroom Blues. The way Gibson uses it to create a divide between outward expressions and the private thoughts and emotions being shared underneath adds so much nuance to every interaction, and I especially loved how it squeezed even more tension out of the thriller elements as there are constantly multiple layers of conversations, secrets, threats, and emotional undercurrents happening at once that humans would never understand. I do think the side cast fell a bit flat compared to Pocho, but this deep level of complexity to the characters honestly mostly made up for the lack of emotional connection for me.
As dark and twisted as it all sounds, A Murder Most Fungal honestly surprised me with how much human heart it has, and on a personal level it actually ended up being weirdly healing for me. See, you can feel the passion and love that Pocho (and Gibson) has for cooking and the culinary arts bleeding off every page, and as someone who has (had) a very complicated relationship with food, I found it genuinely beautiful to see food portrayed as so much more than simple sustenance. It’s culture, it’s history, it’s art, it’s connection, it’s love, and it’s a way of sharing pieces of yourself with other people and bridging divides. It’s also, admittedly, occasionally a vehicle for murder, extortion, organised crime, and political violence, but I feel like Pocho would prefer it if we did not linger on that too long.
“By blood and by spores, across space and time, the spirits of all shinkin are eternally intertwined. For death is not an end; the lives of the dead persist through memories, and memories are what the living are made of.”
I absolutely devoured A Murder Most Fungal in a single day, and I’m still kind of amazed by how much Gibson managed to fit into less than 300 pages. Not every twist of the knife hurt as much as it could or should have, but the overall experience still left me deeply satisfied in the most bittersweet way possible. The final chapter opens some very exciting doors for Pocho’s future role in the series, and I am already hungry for more. All I can really say is: chef’s kiss. Adrian M. Gibson cooked, and I cleaned my plate.
Thank you to the author for providing me with an eARC in exchange for an honest review, all opinions are my own. A Murder Most Fungal is scheduled for release on 16 June, 2026.
June 14, 2026
My first book, Mushroom Blues, kind of broke me creatively. I put so much time and effort into marketing that book (for over a year-and-a-half after launch!), that my writing took a serious nosedive. But I spent months and months rebuilding my confidence and developing a more sustainable routine, and the result of that is A Murder Most Fungal.
I’m so damn proud of this book, and what my protagonist Pocho Jiro and I were able to accomplish together. Yes, this is a crime thriller and a tragedy about a fungal chef, but at its core, this story is a love letter to food and cooking. Much like Pocho put his heart, soul and spores into every dish he cooked, I did the same with every sentence, scene and chapter of this book.
So, to all of you who give A Murder Most Fungal a shot, I sincerely thank you. I hope this story about a messy, complicated, morally gray chef satiates your mind and your heart (and hopefully makes you really hungry, too).
I’m so damn proud of this book, and what my protagonist Pocho Jiro and I were able to accomplish together. Yes, this is a crime thriller and a tragedy about a fungal chef, but at its core, this story is a love letter to food and cooking. Much like Pocho put his heart, soul and spores into every dish he cooked, I did the same with every sentence, scene and chapter of this book.
So, to all of you who give A Murder Most Fungal a shot, I sincerely thank you. I hope this story about a messy, complicated, morally gray chef satiates your mind and your heart (and hopefully makes you really hungry, too).
June 29, 2026
I really enjoyed Mushroom Blues but I struggled with the pace of this story which is set just after that novel.
We get a glimpse into Pocho and his life as a chef for a truly evil Governor of the winning side of a confict. Basically an indentured servent and on pins and needles at all times, Pocho prepares dishes for people who hate his food, his culture and his people. Like Mushroom Blues, the racism is hard to watch but necessary to really take the reader into the despair the fungals of Hoppon feel daily.
The world building here is incredible and the strength of the book but its a LOT. The fungalnet and Pochos love for it shines across the pages. I definitely wanted more characters to have time on page though. Some of the interactions felt flat and unemotional. It could be because everything was so descriptive the emotion gets lost.
This isnt a cozy story but it felt very slice of life. The danger felt abstract and almost without tension. The food is front and center and you can't be mad at that. Intricate delicacies take on a life of their own..the recipies are side characters to the very real mystery happening.
Overall, Adrian wrote the shit out of this book even if I had some minor squabbles with it.
Thank you to the author for the opportunity to read and review. My thoughts are my own.
We get a glimpse into Pocho and his life as a chef for a truly evil Governor of the winning side of a confict. Basically an indentured servent and on pins and needles at all times, Pocho prepares dishes for people who hate his food, his culture and his people. Like Mushroom Blues, the racism is hard to watch but necessary to really take the reader into the despair the fungals of Hoppon feel daily.
The world building here is incredible and the strength of the book but its a LOT. The fungalnet and Pochos love for it shines across the pages. I definitely wanted more characters to have time on page though. Some of the interactions felt flat and unemotional. It could be because everything was so descriptive the emotion gets lost.
This isnt a cozy story but it felt very slice of life. The danger felt abstract and almost without tension. The food is front and center and you can't be mad at that. Intricate delicacies take on a life of their own..the recipies are side characters to the very real mystery happening.
Overall, Adrian wrote the shit out of this book even if I had some minor squabbles with it.
Thank you to the author for the opportunity to read and review. My thoughts are my own.
August 10, 2026
I just finished A murder most Fungal and it was awesome. While this is noted as book 1.5 in the Hofmann report series, it's very much so a standalone, and can be read on it's own without (i.e. you don't need to read Mushroom Blues to understand this one).
Years after a war against the humans, the fungal people of Hōppon now live in subjugation. Here, we follow Pocho, a ~60 year old fungal who happens to have been a renowned chef back in the day when Hōppon was a free nation. Now, he serves under the human leader Duncan MacArthur as his personal chef. Pocho soon gets dragged into a blackmailing scheme and must find a way to fight again his human oppressors in order to save his sister.
This book was genuinely so unique. The cooking aspects made me salivate, while the action sequences left me with a fast beating heart rate. There was so much lore and fun abilities the fungal people had - from being able to communicate telepathically through the "fungalnet" to other fungal people (or fungal entities...) to having mycelia extend from their bodies as tools. I felt like we were truly seeing a sliver of a bigger world, and I am excited to see where the story goes next.
One small things of note: the story is written in present tense, which is something I had not experienced in quite a long time. This is not a negative point or anything, I was just surprised by this and it did take me a little bit of time to adjust at first.
Quick disclamer: Adrian did send me a free copy of this book, but my thoughts are my own :))
Years after a war against the humans, the fungal people of Hōppon now live in subjugation. Here, we follow Pocho, a ~60 year old fungal who happens to have been a renowned chef back in the day when Hōppon was a free nation. Now, he serves under the human leader Duncan MacArthur as his personal chef. Pocho soon gets dragged into a blackmailing scheme and must find a way to fight again his human oppressors in order to save his sister.
This book was genuinely so unique. The cooking aspects made me salivate, while the action sequences left me with a fast beating heart rate. There was so much lore and fun abilities the fungal people had - from being able to communicate telepathically through the "fungalnet" to other fungal people (or fungal entities...) to having mycelia extend from their bodies as tools. I felt like we were truly seeing a sliver of a bigger world, and I am excited to see where the story goes next.
One small things of note: the story is written in present tense, which is something I had not experienced in quite a long time. This is not a negative point or anything, I was just surprised by this and it did take me a little bit of time to adjust at first.
Quick disclamer: Adrian did send me a free copy of this book, but my thoughts are my own :))
June 27, 2026
3.5/5
A Murder Most Fungal is strange, but it lands on the right side of strange. It's basically a murder intrigue among sentient fungi, so, yeah.
The story follows Pocho, a celebrated chef forced to cook for the military governor who conquered his homeland. When murder disrupts his carefully controlled world, he's pulled into a conspiracy that stretches far beyond the kitchen.
Pocho is proud, stubborn, compassionate, and exhausted by the compromises he's had to make just to survive. Better still, he thinks like a chef. His profession shapes everything from the way he solves problems to the way he judges people, and that makes him feel distinct from the usual fantasy protagonist.
The kitchen scenes are fantastic. They have the chaos, pressure, and rhythm of a real professional kitchen, and it's obvious the author knows this world firsthand. Those chapters have an authenticity that can't be faked, I think.
The worldbuilding is equally impressive. The fungal biology isn't just cosmetic, since it influences religion, communication, architecture, politics, and everyday life. That's the kind of detail that makes a setting feel alive instead of simply unusual.
That said, Gibson really, really wants you to know everything about this world. There are terms, titles, foods, customs, gods, and enough fungal vocabulary to make me briefly wonder whether I'd accidentally enrolled in Mushroom Studies 101. For the first hundred pages, I wished the author to stop introducing new words.
To be fair, there's a glossary at the beginning of the book. It's comprehensive, but the sheer volume of invented terminology can feel intimidating early on. Most readers will settle into it eventually, but the opening asks for more patience than it probably should.
That said, the strengths outweigh the weaknesses. This is an ambitious novel that actually has something to say about colonialism, identity, survival, and cultural preservation, while still delivering an engaging mystery. More importantly, it never feels like it's copying someone else's fantasy world.
A Murder Most Fungal is strange, but it lands on the right side of strange. It's basically a murder intrigue among sentient fungi, so, yeah.
The story follows Pocho, a celebrated chef forced to cook for the military governor who conquered his homeland. When murder disrupts his carefully controlled world, he's pulled into a conspiracy that stretches far beyond the kitchen.
Pocho is proud, stubborn, compassionate, and exhausted by the compromises he's had to make just to survive. Better still, he thinks like a chef. His profession shapes everything from the way he solves problems to the way he judges people, and that makes him feel distinct from the usual fantasy protagonist.
The kitchen scenes are fantastic. They have the chaos, pressure, and rhythm of a real professional kitchen, and it's obvious the author knows this world firsthand. Those chapters have an authenticity that can't be faked, I think.
The worldbuilding is equally impressive. The fungal biology isn't just cosmetic, since it influences religion, communication, architecture, politics, and everyday life. That's the kind of detail that makes a setting feel alive instead of simply unusual.
That said, Gibson really, really wants you to know everything about this world. There are terms, titles, foods, customs, gods, and enough fungal vocabulary to make me briefly wonder whether I'd accidentally enrolled in Mushroom Studies 101. For the first hundred pages, I wished the author to stop introducing new words.
To be fair, there's a glossary at the beginning of the book. It's comprehensive, but the sheer volume of invented terminology can feel intimidating early on. Most readers will settle into it eventually, but the opening asks for more patience than it probably should.
That said, the strengths outweigh the weaknesses. This is an ambitious novel that actually has something to say about colonialism, identity, survival, and cultural preservation, while still delivering an engaging mystery. More importantly, it never feels like it's copying someone else's fantasy world.
August 11, 2026
Got this pre ordered. Can't wait!!!!!
Review:
I'm not really a review guy but I'll try my best.
Last year I read Mushroom blues and came away from it really liking the Setting, culture and the general vibe it had. What i liked most of all was the Hipponese and their culture and way of life, so obviously I wanted more of that. Lo and behold, a year later A murder most fungal arrives at my doorstep.
I tore through this book in a day and a half, couldn't put it down honestly. I'll just list what I liked because structure is not my forte...
- Poncho is such a well written and easy to root for character
- I love how mr. Adrien shows the effects of oppression and how (for me) claustrophobic it can make you feel
- I LOVE how mr. Adrien does not shy away from going to dark places (gotta be vague here)
- I WANT MORE HIPPONESE CULTURE. It's a pro because I want more
- I want to throw it in here how nuanced the writing is sometimes. I liked some of the Coprinians and hated some of the Hipponese. It just shows that there are always bad actors on both sides of a conflict.
Cons:
Still no Hofman report 2
Special mention:
I love owning this book because its gorgeous!! All the illustrations inside the book where a joy to look at! Props to everyone who worked on it!
Sorry if this is a mess but I wrote this on my commute to work and for some reason goodreads sometimes deletes half of what I wrote.
Ps: Adrien.... please give me an arc of Hoffmam report 2 I just don't have the patience... Please keep writing, thank you.
Review:
I'm not really a review guy but I'll try my best.
Last year I read Mushroom blues and came away from it really liking the Setting, culture and the general vibe it had. What i liked most of all was the Hipponese and their culture and way of life, so obviously I wanted more of that. Lo and behold, a year later A murder most fungal arrives at my doorstep.
I tore through this book in a day and a half, couldn't put it down honestly. I'll just list what I liked because structure is not my forte...
- Poncho is such a well written and easy to root for character
- I love how mr. Adrien shows the effects of oppression and how (for me) claustrophobic it can make you feel
- I LOVE how mr. Adrien does not shy away from going to dark places (gotta be vague here)
- I WANT MORE HIPPONESE CULTURE. It's a pro because I want more
- I want to throw it in here how nuanced the writing is sometimes. I liked some of the Coprinians and hated some of the Hipponese. It just shows that there are always bad actors on both sides of a conflict.
Cons:
Still no Hofman report 2
Special mention:
I love owning this book because its gorgeous!! All the illustrations inside the book where a joy to look at! Props to everyone who worked on it!
Sorry if this is a mess but I wrote this on my commute to work and for some reason goodreads sometimes deletes half of what I wrote.
Ps: Adrien.... please give me an arc of Hoffmam report 2 I just don't have the patience... Please keep writing, thank you.
come-back-to-this
June 18, 2026Loved MUSHROOM BLUES. And June needs to get hustling; the 16th can't come fast enough.
July 3, 2026
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.
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.
June 16, 2026
Adrian M. Gibson is back and better than ever with A MURDER MOST FUNGAL!
We get to return to Neo Kinoko, a fungal city under colonizer occupation. Instead of following our favorite cop duo, Hofmann and Nameko, this time we follow Pocho Jiro, a chef who is working as an indentured servant, cooking for the enemy. Things only get worse for poor Pocho from there, as the story expands to involve threats, gangsters, and, of course, murder most fungal.
I love the continual nods to food in the story, both in the prose through Pocho's internal monologue, the importance of cooking and meals in much of the plot, and even the fact that the book is structured in sections defined by courses of a meal (complete with delicious-sounding fungal "recipes").
If you liked MUSHROOM BLUES but were craving more insight into the fungal peoples' culture, this book serves up a double helping of delicious context (pun fully intended). Can't wait to see what Gibson cooks up next! (pun also intended) (okay I'm done with the puns now I promise).
We get to return to Neo Kinoko, a fungal city under colonizer occupation. Instead of following our favorite cop duo, Hofmann and Nameko, this time we follow Pocho Jiro, a chef who is working as an indentured servant, cooking for the enemy. Things only get worse for poor Pocho from there, as the story expands to involve threats, gangsters, and, of course, murder most fungal.
I love the continual nods to food in the story, both in the prose through Pocho's internal monologue, the importance of cooking and meals in much of the plot, and even the fact that the book is structured in sections defined by courses of a meal (complete with delicious-sounding fungal "recipes").
If you liked MUSHROOM BLUES but were craving more insight into the fungal peoples' culture, this book serves up a double helping of delicious context (pun fully intended). Can't wait to see what Gibson cooks up next! (pun also intended) (okay I'm done with the puns now I promise).
June 28, 2026
3.5 stelle....
Novella 1.5 dalla trama insolita..
Dodici anni dopo la famigerata Guerra delle Spore, ed essere stata colonizzata dall esercito Copriniano, che tutt'ora la occupa per "liberarla" (America sei tu???!!!), la città di Neo Kinoko, la città fungina del primo romanzo, Mushroom Blues, versa in condizioni miserabili, con scarsità di cibo, soprusi xenofobi e violenza..
Ma il governatore e capo dell'esercito invasore, Duncan MacArthur, si riserva il miglior cibo della città, e per lui e il suo ampio enturage, ha uno stuolo di chef esclusivi.. e lo chef Pocho comanda la brigata nelle cucine del palazzo del governatore.. codardo ed egoista, ha accettato di servire gli invasori piuttosto che perdere tutto, così da offrire cibo almeno a se e agli altri cuochi e alle loro famiglie..
Disprezzato come un traditore, viene ricattato dalla mafia locale, la Jiakura, per i loro loschi piani per colpire il governatore e il suo staff..
È una novella particolare perché per quasi metà pagine sembra quasi un romanzo Cozy, dove Pocho cucina, va per mercati ittico-fungini e prega gli Dei.. se Adrian in questa parte si prende il tempo di approfondire in modo interessantissimo il worldbuilding fungino da lui creato, con usanze, cibi, preparazioni e vita comune, il tutto però per me risulta un po' lento, noioso e troppo descrittivo.. credo che se fossero state dimezzate le pagine in questa prima parte, la dinamicità della trama ne avrebbe tratto grandissimo giovamento..
Per fortuna si arriva alla seconda parte, dove unito all' esplorazione del mondo, degli usi e costumi, la trama prende velocità, l'interesse aumenta e esplode in un finale davvero interessante, con alcune scene fungino-splatter divertenti.. l'epilogo con cui poi si riallaccia ai personaggi del primo romanzo apre a un nuovo caso, e non fa che venire voglia di avere il secondo volume subito tra le mani..
Insomma, al netto di una prima parte più noiosa e per me inutilmente allungata, la seconda mi ha preso di più.. onestamente non è stata la trama più intrigante per me, ma ho apprezzato enormemente la dirompente fantasia di Adrian e del suo Fungalverso.. vedere il tutto dagli occhi di un Fungino, rispetto alla visione umana del primo libro, è stato fighissimo.. tutte le sensazioni che i fungini hanno, il Fungalnet, la rete fungina che collega pensieri e emozioni di tutta la loro razza è geniale, così come tutti gli usi assurdi che fanno del loro reticolo Micelico.. credo che le idee di Adrian siano tra le più vivide e assurde degli ultimi anni, con un worldbuilding geniale come quello di Jackson Bennett.. Ma spero di avere presto tra le mani una trama più di mio gradimento, noir e cruda come ci aveva abituato..
Novella 1.5 dalla trama insolita..
Dodici anni dopo la famigerata Guerra delle Spore, ed essere stata colonizzata dall esercito Copriniano, che tutt'ora la occupa per "liberarla" (America sei tu???!!!), la città di Neo Kinoko, la città fungina del primo romanzo, Mushroom Blues, versa in condizioni miserabili, con scarsità di cibo, soprusi xenofobi e violenza..
Ma il governatore e capo dell'esercito invasore, Duncan MacArthur, si riserva il miglior cibo della città, e per lui e il suo ampio enturage, ha uno stuolo di chef esclusivi.. e lo chef Pocho comanda la brigata nelle cucine del palazzo del governatore.. codardo ed egoista, ha accettato di servire gli invasori piuttosto che perdere tutto, così da offrire cibo almeno a se e agli altri cuochi e alle loro famiglie..
Disprezzato come un traditore, viene ricattato dalla mafia locale, la Jiakura, per i loro loschi piani per colpire il governatore e il suo staff..
È una novella particolare perché per quasi metà pagine sembra quasi un romanzo Cozy, dove Pocho cucina, va per mercati ittico-fungini e prega gli Dei.. se Adrian in questa parte si prende il tempo di approfondire in modo interessantissimo il worldbuilding fungino da lui creato, con usanze, cibi, preparazioni e vita comune, il tutto però per me risulta un po' lento, noioso e troppo descrittivo.. credo che se fossero state dimezzate le pagine in questa prima parte, la dinamicità della trama ne avrebbe tratto grandissimo giovamento..
Per fortuna si arriva alla seconda parte, dove unito all' esplorazione del mondo, degli usi e costumi, la trama prende velocità, l'interesse aumenta e esplode in un finale davvero interessante, con alcune scene fungino-splatter divertenti.. l'epilogo con cui poi si riallaccia ai personaggi del primo romanzo apre a un nuovo caso, e non fa che venire voglia di avere il secondo volume subito tra le mani..
Insomma, al netto di una prima parte più noiosa e per me inutilmente allungata, la seconda mi ha preso di più.. onestamente non è stata la trama più intrigante per me, ma ho apprezzato enormemente la dirompente fantasia di Adrian e del suo Fungalverso.. vedere il tutto dagli occhi di un Fungino, rispetto alla visione umana del primo libro, è stato fighissimo.. tutte le sensazioni che i fungini hanno, il Fungalnet, la rete fungina che collega pensieri e emozioni di tutta la loro razza è geniale, così come tutti gli usi assurdi che fanno del loro reticolo Micelico.. credo che le idee di Adrian siano tra le più vivide e assurde degli ultimi anni, con un worldbuilding geniale come quello di Jackson Bennett.. Ma spero di avere presto tra le mani una trama più di mio gradimento, noir e cruda come ci aveva abituato..
June 12, 2026
An interesting view on war and the repercussions.
You can clearly feel the cultures used as the base of this story and in some of the language used.
Fungals (humanoids akin to mushrooms) have had their country taken over by Coprinian soldiers. They are forced into poverty and prejudice. A chef has been assigned as the personal chef of the Coprinian Governor who is now in charge of his city. He has faithfully prepared breakfast, lunch and tea for this man for years. Until one of his chefs change everything.
Now he has to do the unthinkable while trying to protect his sister from it all.
Soldiers, gangsters and a chef out of his depth.
An interesting read.
You can clearly feel the cultures used as the base of this story and in some of the language used.
Fungals (humanoids akin to mushrooms) have had their country taken over by Coprinian soldiers. They are forced into poverty and prejudice. A chef has been assigned as the personal chef of the Coprinian Governor who is now in charge of his city. He has faithfully prepared breakfast, lunch and tea for this man for years. Until one of his chefs change everything.
Now he has to do the unthinkable while trying to protect his sister from it all.
Soldiers, gangsters and a chef out of his depth.
An interesting read.
July 4, 2026
(Thank you to the author providing an advanced review copy.)
(First of all, check out the amazing cover!!)
A Murder Most Fungal tells the story of Pocho, a top chef who becomes mixed up in organized crime and needs to commit said “murder most fungal.” Pocho and his fellow Hōpponese are fungus-humanoids (and live in Hōppon, a land where fungi seemingly has combined with all other species). Their lands have been conquered by the humans of the Coprinian empire and Pocho has made the uncomfortable bargain of serving as the head chef for the Coprinian leadership in exchange for gaining his and his other chefs’ survival. Pocho bears considerable regret throughout the novel for the difficult choices he has been forced to make in the wake of the Coprinian conquest – and even before then – and the author does a great job of showing this internal turmoil.
I loved the care shown to the culinary themes throughout the book. Pocho prizes the art of cooking, and so does the author. (Even the chapters are structured as menu courses!) I also appreciated the themes of imperialism and warfare, though the villains may be too straightforwardly villainous.
The worldbuilding is another highlight. The author has definitely created a unique world where fungi are the main characters. I don’t think I’ve seen – or even imagined – such a thing before! In fact, I would like to know more about the fungal people themselves. (This is a standalone but is a spin-off from an earlier book that I haven’t read it, so it may be that there is more detail there.) While we learn that these fungus-humanoids have a different biology and they can communicate to each other without speaking, I still wanted to learn more. Why do they eat like us (versus absorbing nutrients in some other way)? Do they reproduce like us?, etc. Perhaps the answers are in the first book. In any case, I look forward to exploring more of the fungalverse!
(First of all, check out the amazing cover!!)
A Murder Most Fungal tells the story of Pocho, a top chef who becomes mixed up in organized crime and needs to commit said “murder most fungal.” Pocho and his fellow Hōpponese are fungus-humanoids (and live in Hōppon, a land where fungi seemingly has combined with all other species). Their lands have been conquered by the humans of the Coprinian empire and Pocho has made the uncomfortable bargain of serving as the head chef for the Coprinian leadership in exchange for gaining his and his other chefs’ survival. Pocho bears considerable regret throughout the novel for the difficult choices he has been forced to make in the wake of the Coprinian conquest – and even before then – and the author does a great job of showing this internal turmoil.
I loved the care shown to the culinary themes throughout the book. Pocho prizes the art of cooking, and so does the author. (Even the chapters are structured as menu courses!) I also appreciated the themes of imperialism and warfare, though the villains may be too straightforwardly villainous.
The worldbuilding is another highlight. The author has definitely created a unique world where fungi are the main characters. I don’t think I’ve seen – or even imagined – such a thing before! In fact, I would like to know more about the fungal people themselves. (This is a standalone but is a spin-off from an earlier book that I haven’t read it, so it may be that there is more detail there.) While we learn that these fungus-humanoids have a different biology and they can communicate to each other without speaking, I still wanted to learn more. Why do they eat like us (versus absorbing nutrients in some other way)? Do they reproduce like us?, etc. Perhaps the answers are in the first book. In any case, I look forward to exploring more of the fungalverse!
July 26, 2026
Just Missed:
1. A Murder Most Fungal by Adrian M Gibson.
2. An Osprey grabbing a fish as I took this picture, but dropped it as it flew away.
I really enjoyed Mushroom Blues, the first book in the Fungalverse.
Part two dealt more with the Fungalverse point of view and recounted the desperation the MC felt dealing with humans, Fungal gangsters, his co-workers, and family.
While well written it just wasn’t my cup of tea. A pun you will get you read it.
1. A Murder Most Fungal by Adrian M Gibson.
2. An Osprey grabbing a fish as I took this picture, but dropped it as it flew away.
I really enjoyed Mushroom Blues, the first book in the Fungalverse.
Part two dealt more with the Fungalverse point of view and recounted the desperation the MC felt dealing with humans, Fungal gangsters, his co-workers, and family.
While well written it just wasn’t my cup of tea. A pun you will get you read it.
July 10, 2026
Mushroom Blues was something completely new and I was very excited to read another book in this intriguing world. A murder most fungal did not disappoint. You learn more of this strange fungal world while there are still hints that there is more to learn. The story is intense and tragic. Another great installment in the fungal universe.
July 18, 2026
4.5/5 stars
Just finished and yeah this was a good read. I enjoyed this as a bridge to the next Hoffman novel but was saddened by the fact that Pocho just kept encountering defeat after defeat as the story continued. Just kept hoping for a win. I’m looking forward to the next book and hope to see more Pocho.
Just finished and yeah this was a good read. I enjoyed this as a bridge to the next Hoffman novel but was saddened by the fact that Pocho just kept encountering defeat after defeat as the story continued. Just kept hoping for a win. I’m looking forward to the next book and hope to see more Pocho.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Review of advance copy received from Author
Note: This review was originally published at FanFiAddict.
The weight of consequences are at the heart of Adrian M. Gibson’s A Murder Most Fungal, a stand-alone entry in his Fungalverse series that picks up a short time after the conclusion of his debut novel, Mushroom Blues. Although Mushroom Blues is not required reading, I would high recommend it as it provides plenty of important context and world building for the events that unfold here. Plus, it’s just a damn good book and you should read it anyway, if you haven’t already.
Gibson introduces us to chef Pocho Jiro, who lost his highly celebrated restaurant when the human Coprinians attacked the fungal Hōpponese. In the wake of Coprinian occupation, Pocho and his team have been pressed into serving as the personal chefs for Coprinian Military Governor Duncan MacArthur. Pocho views the job as a way to help save his cooks and allow them to earn their livelihoods, but many view his working for the leader of the fascist army that attacked their world as treason. Pocho is a turncoat and a traitor to some, but to others, like the Kinoko Rose mobsters who want MacArthur dead, he has the potential to be a useful resource… particularly with the right amount of pressure. He can either serve MacArthur his last meal, or he can watch his sister die.
As a fan of Mushroom Blues, I was eager to see what Gibson cooked up for his sophomore effort, and I wasn’t the least bit disappointed. A Murder Most Fungal immediately put me at ease with its opening epigraph quoting Anthony Bourdain, of whom I am a fan. It’s clear throughout A Murder Most Fungal that Gibson is a fan, too, of both Bourdain and chefs in general, exhibiting attention to and an appreciation for culinary arts. Our protagonist is even named after famed sushi chef, Jiro Ono, whose life and work was documented in the 2011 film, Jiro Dreams of Sushi. This documentary no doubt also influenced Bourdain, who wrote two volumes about a sushi chef, named Jiro of course, in a futuristic, and very bloody, Los Angeles. Bourdain also penned a trio of crime novels set at the intersection of food and crime. He left us much too early in 2018, at the age of 61, but his outsized influence lives on and clearly made an impression on Gibson.
While there are occasional spurts of violence throughout A Murder Most Fungal – this a crime noir book, after all – much of the action takes place in the kitchen. The cinematic flair Gibson exhibits when staging and writing about food prep as seen through Pocho’s eyes, one might think they were reading scenes from an extraterrestrial episode of Chef’s Table. It’s easy to visualize the dark interior of Pocho’s kitchen and the frantic bustling of fungoid chefs as they break down and filet fish and meat and mushrooms, lit by the sudden, explosive rise of a grill’s flame as hot oils splash against open fire.
You can feel the twisting threads of inspiration that make up Gibson’s latest, and the author lives up to the long and rich legacies of those that preceded him. A Murder Most Fungal is built on a strong pedigree of celebrity chefs, as well as noir fiction. What makes it most compelling are the ways people’s choices resonate across time. Actions have consequences and choices can be downright damning.
Gibson’s world-building is on point, just as it was in Mushroom Blues, which established a world built very much on the model of recognizably familiar colonial empires, primarily the British occupation of Hong Kong and other territories. The Coprinians rule with racist savagery, convinced of their superiority over the fungal humanoids they war against. Under its layers of decadent food displays and threats of violence, A Murder Most Fungal explores the nature of oppression through military, political, and class warfare, and the ways underground rebellions must function in opposition to fascism. At its most fundamental levels, it’s very much about nature versus industry and the war the rich wage against the world itself. The historical parallels propping up Gibson’s world-building are apparent, but if you look just right you can see more modern crises at its core, like the wealthy techbros and their imperialistic demands to build expansive (and expensive) data centers at the cost of, well, everything.
An inherent, and necessary, darkness exists at the core of A Murder Most Fungal. So, too, does hope and an appreciation for art. Hand-crafted, man- (or in this case, fungal-) made art is celebrated. In the realm of culinary arts, it may not always look pleasing or taste good, but it’s still made with love and can tell a story, about a person, about a culture, of an empire or a world, and that’s still worth respecting and remembering. It’s worth more than we can ever adequately say. And yes, sometimes, it has to be fought for and blood must be spilt in order to exist.
The weight of consequences are at the heart of Adrian M. Gibson’s A Murder Most Fungal, a stand-alone entry in his Fungalverse series that picks up a short time after the conclusion of his debut novel, Mushroom Blues. Although Mushroom Blues is not required reading, I would high recommend it as it provides plenty of important context and world building for the events that unfold here. Plus, it’s just a damn good book and you should read it anyway, if you haven’t already.
Gibson introduces us to chef Pocho Jiro, who lost his highly celebrated restaurant when the human Coprinians attacked the fungal Hōpponese. In the wake of Coprinian occupation, Pocho and his team have been pressed into serving as the personal chefs for Coprinian Military Governor Duncan MacArthur. Pocho views the job as a way to help save his cooks and allow them to earn their livelihoods, but many view his working for the leader of the fascist army that attacked their world as treason. Pocho is a turncoat and a traitor to some, but to others, like the Kinoko Rose mobsters who want MacArthur dead, he has the potential to be a useful resource… particularly with the right amount of pressure. He can either serve MacArthur his last meal, or he can watch his sister die.
As a fan of Mushroom Blues, I was eager to see what Gibson cooked up for his sophomore effort, and I wasn’t the least bit disappointed. A Murder Most Fungal immediately put me at ease with its opening epigraph quoting Anthony Bourdain, of whom I am a fan. It’s clear throughout A Murder Most Fungal that Gibson is a fan, too, of both Bourdain and chefs in general, exhibiting attention to and an appreciation for culinary arts. Our protagonist is even named after famed sushi chef, Jiro Ono, whose life and work was documented in the 2011 film, Jiro Dreams of Sushi. This documentary no doubt also influenced Bourdain, who wrote two volumes about a sushi chef, named Jiro of course, in a futuristic, and very bloody, Los Angeles. Bourdain also penned a trio of crime novels set at the intersection of food and crime. He left us much too early in 2018, at the age of 61, but his outsized influence lives on and clearly made an impression on Gibson.
While there are occasional spurts of violence throughout A Murder Most Fungal – this a crime noir book, after all – much of the action takes place in the kitchen. The cinematic flair Gibson exhibits when staging and writing about food prep as seen through Pocho’s eyes, one might think they were reading scenes from an extraterrestrial episode of Chef’s Table. It’s easy to visualize the dark interior of Pocho’s kitchen and the frantic bustling of fungoid chefs as they break down and filet fish and meat and mushrooms, lit by the sudden, explosive rise of a grill’s flame as hot oils splash against open fire.
You can feel the twisting threads of inspiration that make up Gibson’s latest, and the author lives up to the long and rich legacies of those that preceded him. A Murder Most Fungal is built on a strong pedigree of celebrity chefs, as well as noir fiction. What makes it most compelling are the ways people’s choices resonate across time. Actions have consequences and choices can be downright damning.
Gibson’s world-building is on point, just as it was in Mushroom Blues, which established a world built very much on the model of recognizably familiar colonial empires, primarily the British occupation of Hong Kong and other territories. The Coprinians rule with racist savagery, convinced of their superiority over the fungal humanoids they war against. Under its layers of decadent food displays and threats of violence, A Murder Most Fungal explores the nature of oppression through military, political, and class warfare, and the ways underground rebellions must function in opposition to fascism. At its most fundamental levels, it’s very much about nature versus industry and the war the rich wage against the world itself. The historical parallels propping up Gibson’s world-building are apparent, but if you look just right you can see more modern crises at its core, like the wealthy techbros and their imperialistic demands to build expansive (and expensive) data centers at the cost of, well, everything.
An inherent, and necessary, darkness exists at the core of A Murder Most Fungal. So, too, does hope and an appreciation for art. Hand-crafted, man- (or in this case, fungal-) made art is celebrated. In the realm of culinary arts, it may not always look pleasing or taste good, but it’s still made with love and can tell a story, about a person, about a culture, of an empire or a world, and that’s still worth respecting and remembering. It’s worth more than we can ever adequately say. And yes, sometimes, it has to be fought for and blood must be spilt in order to exist.
Review of advance copy received from Author
This review can also be found at: https://fanfiaddict.com/review-a-murd...
With swift and precise writing, Adrian M. Gibson has presented us with an Umami Bomb of fiction with his latest, A Murder Most Fungal, a continuation of his Fungalverse that he started two years back in Mushroom Blues.
Umami, for those unfamiliar, is a flavor profile, alongside sweet, salty, sour, and bitter. The word in Japanese literally can be translated to “deliciousness,” which is what Gibson has crafted with this new story. There is a quality to the story that’s a little hard to pin down, but ultimately the world feels so lifelike and lived in that its clear that Gibson has invested so much of himself into perfecting his Fungalverse that you kinda can’t help but love it a little bit.
I like watching cooking shows. I don’t like seafood and I don’t understand what they’re always doing, but I love them anyway. I can see they are talented and that they judges understand what makes a good meal, so I have to trust their judgement. I may not understand how steak tartare actually works or tastes, but that’s not the point of the shows. We see these people compete at the highest level and they put themselves on the line to accomplish something they’ve never done before. THAT is what we relate to.
I’ll be honest — I don’t totally understand Gibson’s Fungalverse. How are mushroom people alive and living their lives like regular humans? How does their connection to the mycelium network actually function? I don’t really know…but I’m putting my trust in Adrian M. Gibson. His world is so well-constructed and conceived that I’ll just give him the benefit of the doubt. Besides…the intricate details of how the mushrooms work and interact is frankly pretty minor. The structure of the story itself is one that we’re all familiar with — a man pushed into the corner, his family and friends threatened if he doesn’t do what a shadowy organization wants.
That man — Pocho Jiro — is a renowned makizushi chef, serving as personal chef and de facto indentured servant to the imperial governor of Hōppon, Duncan MacArthur. Soon after the book gets going, we see that Pocho is targeted for blackmail by a homegrown terrorist organization demanding MacArthur’s death…or Pocho’s sister’s.
One of the great things about A Murder Most Fungal was what Gibson had Pocho doing while he wasn’t in the kitchen. Through a series of flashbacks, we see the growth and evolution of Pocho’s culinary career, even as family expectations and tragedy work against him. But, we also see more of the fungalnet and what our mushroom protagonists can do with the mycelium network. I was moved when Pocho and his sister visited their mother’s burial place and how the trees, fungus, and themselves all interacted, even years after her death. The introspection into his and his sister’s lives, even as he’s metaphorically staring down the barrel of a gun, was something that too many around the world probably do each and every day in harrowing circumstances.
The story had me on a knife’s edge, particularly as Pocho and his sous chef Mori hashed out their plan to save his sister, Kiko. The ending may not satisfy everyone, but given the stakes, I totally understand what Gibson was doing after the climax of the story. Only in the closing scenes do we get a brief appearance by Detective Henrietta Hofmann and her partner Nameko (the two leads from Mushroom Blues), casually letting the audience know this ties into the larger story and that they’ll be back in the future with more cases.
I can’t say that I like mushrooms. I find them slimy and I don’t like the mouthfeel. But…I adore the flavor. Whatever you think of A Murder Most Fungal, the unique flavor that Gibson has infused in the pages of the story permeates every moment. You may not understand it, but the passion that Gibson has for cooking and for the universe he’s created seeps into every corner of the story. I highly recommend A Murder Most Fungal, and will even go so far as to say you don’t have to read Mushroom Blues first (but also highly recommended).
For a little unique flavor to your bland TBR, check out A Murder Most Fungal by Adrian M. Gibson.
With swift and precise writing, Adrian M. Gibson has presented us with an Umami Bomb of fiction with his latest, A Murder Most Fungal, a continuation of his Fungalverse that he started two years back in Mushroom Blues.
Umami, for those unfamiliar, is a flavor profile, alongside sweet, salty, sour, and bitter. The word in Japanese literally can be translated to “deliciousness,” which is what Gibson has crafted with this new story. There is a quality to the story that’s a little hard to pin down, but ultimately the world feels so lifelike and lived in that its clear that Gibson has invested so much of himself into perfecting his Fungalverse that you kinda can’t help but love it a little bit.
I like watching cooking shows. I don’t like seafood and I don’t understand what they’re always doing, but I love them anyway. I can see they are talented and that they judges understand what makes a good meal, so I have to trust their judgement. I may not understand how steak tartare actually works or tastes, but that’s not the point of the shows. We see these people compete at the highest level and they put themselves on the line to accomplish something they’ve never done before. THAT is what we relate to.
I’ll be honest — I don’t totally understand Gibson’s Fungalverse. How are mushroom people alive and living their lives like regular humans? How does their connection to the mycelium network actually function? I don’t really know…but I’m putting my trust in Adrian M. Gibson. His world is so well-constructed and conceived that I’ll just give him the benefit of the doubt. Besides…the intricate details of how the mushrooms work and interact is frankly pretty minor. The structure of the story itself is one that we’re all familiar with — a man pushed into the corner, his family and friends threatened if he doesn’t do what a shadowy organization wants.
That man — Pocho Jiro — is a renowned makizushi chef, serving as personal chef and de facto indentured servant to the imperial governor of Hōppon, Duncan MacArthur. Soon after the book gets going, we see that Pocho is targeted for blackmail by a homegrown terrorist organization demanding MacArthur’s death…or Pocho’s sister’s.
One of the great things about A Murder Most Fungal was what Gibson had Pocho doing while he wasn’t in the kitchen. Through a series of flashbacks, we see the growth and evolution of Pocho’s culinary career, even as family expectations and tragedy work against him. But, we also see more of the fungalnet and what our mushroom protagonists can do with the mycelium network. I was moved when Pocho and his sister visited their mother’s burial place and how the trees, fungus, and themselves all interacted, even years after her death. The introspection into his and his sister’s lives, even as he’s metaphorically staring down the barrel of a gun, was something that too many around the world probably do each and every day in harrowing circumstances.
The story had me on a knife’s edge, particularly as Pocho and his sous chef Mori hashed out their plan to save his sister, Kiko. The ending may not satisfy everyone, but given the stakes, I totally understand what Gibson was doing after the climax of the story. Only in the closing scenes do we get a brief appearance by Detective Henrietta Hofmann and her partner Nameko (the two leads from Mushroom Blues), casually letting the audience know this ties into the larger story and that they’ll be back in the future with more cases.
I can’t say that I like mushrooms. I find them slimy and I don’t like the mouthfeel. But…I adore the flavor. Whatever you think of A Murder Most Fungal, the unique flavor that Gibson has infused in the pages of the story permeates every moment. You may not understand it, but the passion that Gibson has for cooking and for the universe he’s created seeps into every corner of the story. I highly recommend A Murder Most Fungal, and will even go so far as to say you don’t have to read Mushroom Blues first (but also highly recommended).
For a little unique flavor to your bland TBR, check out A Murder Most Fungal by Adrian M. Gibson.
August 9, 2026
A MURDER MOST FUNGAL is a story about a chef of the fungal people from the planet Hoppon. He is a well-beloved individual by the military governor, Duncan MacArthur, but despised by a huge chunk of the population as a collaborator. It is not a contituation of the original book in the series, MUSHROOM BLUES, but is set in the same setting a few months after the events of the original novel.
The premise is that Pocho finds himself grabbed by criminal forces that immediately begin threatening his sister unless he starts working as a spy for him against MacArthur. As someone who has very little family left, Pocho folds like a deck of cards but their demands are not limited to merely spying on the occupation. No, instead, they want him to be part of a suicidal assassination plot.
Pocho is a well-written character who just wants to get along after the dramatic invasion of his country as well as subsequent subjugation. He wants to look after his kitchen staff and the fact that he's managed to get the patronage of a rich offworlder has made things easier. Unfortunately, that just makes things worse as the genuinely ungrateful people around him take his help while spitting on him without.
The is perhaps my only issue with the book: everyone but Pocho is a complete scumbag whether the racist colonialists occupying the world or the people who treat Pocho like garbage. I really wanted Pocho to stand up for himself and even his decision to work against the occupation is undermined by the fact the so-called resistance is so repulsive. This is definitely a book with no good guys.
Adrian M. Gibson does a fantastic job realizing the culture of the Hopponese. The mushroom people are definitely Asian coded but unique in their own ways. We also get some more insight into the war that resulted in their horrific defeat as well as hints that something triggered the disproportionate human response. Was it an accident or a deliberate attack? We'll never know (at least in this book). It does, however, provide a fascinating series of flashbacks.
Food is a huge focus in this book and the various dishes created for the story are a major part of the books appeal. It's about as far from the cop mysteries of the original book as possible and is more like a family drama. Adrian M. Gibson did an amazing job realizing the various flavors and ingredients that make Pocho's particular craft into art.
In conclusion, this is a good book that continues to expand upon the Hoffman Report's world and encourages me to check out the anthology that is set in the world. Clearly, the conflict between the humans and Hopponese has a lot of legs to tell interesting stories of alienation during a afterwar situation.
The premise is that Pocho finds himself grabbed by criminal forces that immediately begin threatening his sister unless he starts working as a spy for him against MacArthur. As someone who has very little family left, Pocho folds like a deck of cards but their demands are not limited to merely spying on the occupation. No, instead, they want him to be part of a suicidal assassination plot.
Pocho is a well-written character who just wants to get along after the dramatic invasion of his country as well as subsequent subjugation. He wants to look after his kitchen staff and the fact that he's managed to get the patronage of a rich offworlder has made things easier. Unfortunately, that just makes things worse as the genuinely ungrateful people around him take his help while spitting on him without.
The is perhaps my only issue with the book: everyone but Pocho is a complete scumbag whether the racist colonialists occupying the world or the people who treat Pocho like garbage. I really wanted Pocho to stand up for himself and even his decision to work against the occupation is undermined by the fact the so-called resistance is so repulsive. This is definitely a book with no good guys.
Adrian M. Gibson does a fantastic job realizing the culture of the Hopponese. The mushroom people are definitely Asian coded but unique in their own ways. We also get some more insight into the war that resulted in their horrific defeat as well as hints that something triggered the disproportionate human response. Was it an accident or a deliberate attack? We'll never know (at least in this book). It does, however, provide a fascinating series of flashbacks.
Food is a huge focus in this book and the various dishes created for the story are a major part of the books appeal. It's about as far from the cop mysteries of the original book as possible and is more like a family drama. Adrian M. Gibson did an amazing job realizing the various flavors and ingredients that make Pocho's particular craft into art.
In conclusion, this is a good book that continues to expand upon the Hoffman Report's world and encourages me to check out the anthology that is set in the world. Clearly, the conflict between the humans and Hopponese has a lot of legs to tell interesting stories of alienation during a afterwar situation.
Review of advance copy received from Author
I received an ARC from the author in exchange for an honest review.
A Murder Most Fungal presents a classic question - is safety worth the sacrifice of freedom? Years after the spore war, our head Chef Pocho cooks for the occupying Caprinian Governor. He and his team live a life removed from their people, kept under constant watch by guards, tightly controlled in all their movements. Outside their microcosm, the Hopponese starve (physically and spiritually) under colonial rule. But in their kitchen, they have the safety and food supply to create at a level they’re proud of. Is that worth it?
I loved my time with A Murder Most Fungal. It’s fun, expands Adrian’s fungalverse in meaningful ways, and I welled up at the conclusion. It’s also a clear love letter to kitchen life, which resonated. I worked in kitchens for nearly a decade, and although most of them were quite a few shades less professional than one Pocho would run, I was still having flashbacks all the way through. If you’ve spent time in a kitchen and still carry that love for food and camaraderie that comes with it, you’ll connect with a lot here.
I can see a future where Adrian has written more of the Fungalverse, and it’s all connected like this web of fungus that bridges plot lines and characters, and I am very here for it. A Murder Most Fungal reads so much like an epic character creation mythology, and I hope we see Pocho pop up again in the future. As I expected from Mushroom Blues, Adrian has gone above and beyond with the formatting, interior art, and supplemental worldbuilding. A Murder Most Fungal is a really lovely book through and through, and I’ll certainly be picking up a physical copy after release.
A Murder Most Fungal presents a classic question - is safety worth the sacrifice of freedom? Years after the spore war, our head Chef Pocho cooks for the occupying Caprinian Governor. He and his team live a life removed from their people, kept under constant watch by guards, tightly controlled in all their movements. Outside their microcosm, the Hopponese starve (physically and spiritually) under colonial rule. But in their kitchen, they have the safety and food supply to create at a level they’re proud of. Is that worth it?
I loved my time with A Murder Most Fungal. It’s fun, expands Adrian’s fungalverse in meaningful ways, and I welled up at the conclusion. It’s also a clear love letter to kitchen life, which resonated. I worked in kitchens for nearly a decade, and although most of them were quite a few shades less professional than one Pocho would run, I was still having flashbacks all the way through. If you’ve spent time in a kitchen and still carry that love for food and camaraderie that comes with it, you’ll connect with a lot here.
I can see a future where Adrian has written more of the Fungalverse, and it’s all connected like this web of fungus that bridges plot lines and characters, and I am very here for it. A Murder Most Fungal reads so much like an epic character creation mythology, and I hope we see Pocho pop up again in the future. As I expected from Mushroom Blues, Adrian has gone above and beyond with the formatting, interior art, and supplemental worldbuilding. A Murder Most Fungal is a really lovely book through and through, and I’ll certainly be picking up a physical copy after release.
Review of advance copy received from Author
I DEVOURED THIS BOOK! A Murder Most Fungal is like Goodfellas meets Ratatouille, and it is *chef’s kiss*.
Picture the gritty, tragic stylings of a Martin Scorsese crime thriller, but told from the perspective of a genius chef that is part-mushroom, and you’ve got yourself one tasty dish for the imagination.
In terms of the mood and vibes, there’s menace and danger and twists and suspense, and the whole thing feels so propulsive. But feeding the vibes is the layered character building that you hope for from the perspective of a mushroom chef in the fungalverse.
For anyone who read Mushroom Blues and wanted more from this world, you won’t be disappointed. But this also works as an excellent starting point for the fungalverse because there is so much world-building on show here, and all of it is blended with plot and character to create a perfectly balanced combination of flavours.
I read this book in one sitting. It felt like a dish best served that way. And I dare you not to do the same.
Give this book all the Michelin stars. It’s a culinary crime caper that takes the formula that works for a show like The Bear and then dials up the grizzle.
100% delicious.
Picture the gritty, tragic stylings of a Martin Scorsese crime thriller, but told from the perspective of a genius chef that is part-mushroom, and you’ve got yourself one tasty dish for the imagination.
In terms of the mood and vibes, there’s menace and danger and twists and suspense, and the whole thing feels so propulsive. But feeding the vibes is the layered character building that you hope for from the perspective of a mushroom chef in the fungalverse.
For anyone who read Mushroom Blues and wanted more from this world, you won’t be disappointed. But this also works as an excellent starting point for the fungalverse because there is so much world-building on show here, and all of it is blended with plot and character to create a perfectly balanced combination of flavours.
I read this book in one sitting. It felt like a dish best served that way. And I dare you not to do the same.
Give this book all the Michelin stars. It’s a culinary crime caper that takes the formula that works for a show like The Bear and then dials up the grizzle.
100% delicious.
Review of advance copy received from Autorin bzw. Autor
This was the kind of book I read slowly, because I didn't want it to end.
It was so interesting to read from the POV of one of the Hõpponese People. This way we as the reader got to learn more about their culture and way of life. The MC we follow is a cook and owns a restaurant. Food is incorporated to show culture and this is done extremely well. I enjoyed that aspect very much. Gibson makes you care about his characters.
I had a great time reading and was not bored for even one second. The pacing felt determined, but also took the time to show snippets of everyday life. The palette clenser chapters, that were backflashes were done so well and are some of my favourite parts of the book. I enjoyed the ending and how it tied into the series.
You can see how much love and care the author put into this book. From the structure in courses, the little stylistic pictures at the beginning of chapters and in between paragraphs and so many more small things.
One if not the favourite book I read so far. I highly recommend!
I recived an ARC by the author.
It was so interesting to read from the POV of one of the Hõpponese People. This way we as the reader got to learn more about their culture and way of life. The MC we follow is a cook and owns a restaurant. Food is incorporated to show culture and this is done extremely well. I enjoyed that aspect very much. Gibson makes you care about his characters.
I had a great time reading and was not bored for even one second. The pacing felt determined, but also took the time to show snippets of everyday life. The palette clenser chapters, that were backflashes were done so well and are some of my favourite parts of the book. I enjoyed the ending and how it tied into the series.
You can see how much love and care the author put into this book. From the structure in courses, the little stylistic pictures at the beginning of chapters and in between paragraphs and so many more small things.
One if not the favourite book I read so far. I highly recommend!
I recived an ARC by the author.
August 11, 2026
I bought and read the book to support Gibson, whose SFF Addicts podcast is really great. Go check it out.
I think the author improved his craft with this book, so I imagine he will only get better.
I don't normally worry too much if there are a few basic typos in a book, but there were a couple that happened in some large, important quotes, which did take me out of the reading.
Last, I'm not 100% sure if I'll continue reading the fungalverse or not. That's a 'me' thing though as I'm just not sure I care enough about mushrooms to read more. Maybe he will write some non-Mushroom books too.
I think the author improved his craft with this book, so I imagine he will only get better.
I don't normally worry too much if there are a few basic typos in a book, but there were a couple that happened in some large, important quotes, which did take me out of the reading.
Last, I'm not 100% sure if I'll continue reading the fungalverse or not. That's a 'me' thing though as I'm just not sure I care enough about mushrooms to read more. Maybe he will write some non-Mushroom books too.
Review of advance copy received from Author
I read an incomplete ARC, but I was really enjoying it. I will edit this review (and possibly adjust my rating) once I get to finish the completed novel. Was definitely looking promising.
July 26, 2026
3.5/5
(Review coming soon)
I want Hoffman Report book 2 NOW!!!
(Review coming soon)
I want Hoffman Report book 2 NOW!!!
Displaying 1 - 24 of 24 reviews