Becoming a God Starts with Acting-Chapter 181: [Blizzard Manor] - Prophet’s part (28)

"But we have to confirm who the real boss of this dungeon is so we can concentrate all our efforts on eliminating it! Splitting up will only increase our chances of losing!" Susan roared, completely losing her usual calm and gentle demeanor. It was clear that Drake’s reasoning had enraged her.

Hearing that, Drake raised an eyebrow and sneered, "Alright then, go ahead and confirm who the real boss is—if you can."

Susan froze, her lips tightening, clearly furious. Darkness began to spread in her eyes.

"Already losing control of your emotions, huh?" Drake mocked, staring at Susan with no hint of concern for her current state.

"If you know her emotions are fragile right now, stop provoking her," Zara couldn’t help but speak up from the side.

Drake continued walking forward, still gripping the sword in his hand. "I’m just stating the truth. Either you choose the main boss now, or we go with my plan."

Drake was unwilling to waste even a moment. Impatient and aggressive, the old Drake seemed to have returned.

Zara couldn’t help but glance at the group behind Drake. Some looked visibly worried, but Fiona raised her voice and shouted, "Captain’s so cool! Let’s fight!"

She looked like she couldn’t wait to jump into battle immediately.

Birds of a feather flock together. This moment made it clearer than ever—they would never be on the same team if they weren’t the same kind of people.

In any case, they couldn’t hold a vote to decide who the real boss was. At that moment, all eyes instinctively turned to Luis—the only one in the group still thinking clearly.

Under everyone’s gaze, Luis frowned slightly, then suddenly shook his head. "I can’t make the call either."

Obviously, everyone suspected Vincent, but Luis still had a gut feeling that something was off about the chef, Ethan. It was just an instinct, with no solid evidence so that he couldn’t say for sure.

Just then, Bella suddenly grabbed Luis’s hand, speaking loudly, "Luis, just say it—your decisions have never been wrong!"

Such strong faith. Luis faltered for a moment, and when faced with Bella’s beautiful face, he turned away, slightly embarrassed, a hint of red on his cheeks. Then he gently pulled his hand from hers and said firmly, "In my opinion, the chef is the real boss. It’s just a hunch—I have no convincing evidence."

Behind his thick glasses, his eyes were heavy with uncertainty.

The others fell silent.

"Alright, then let’s go kill the chef!" Drake suddenly announced loudly, then immediately headed straight toward the kitchen.

Luis blinked, stunned, watching Drake’s retreating. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, no words came. He could only follow that tall figure. The others looked at one another, then followed as well.

At that very moment, Silvanus suddenly looked up, wandering around the mansion. Drake’s voice, still echoing from the live broadcast, rang in his ears. He raised his head—and saw the sky, which had just been clear a moment ago, now dark and gloomy to the extreme, tiny white flakes fluttering down from above like scattered ashes.

Silvanus held out his hand, and a snowflake landed in his palm, quickly melting into a tiny water droplet.

Silvanus’s body slowly began to change from the spot where the flake touched him. In the blink of an eye, he returned to his Prophet form.

This time, however, his eyes were uncovered. His dazzling golden irises were fully visible—inside them swirled what looked like an entire galaxy, brimming with immense power, as if they could explode at any moment.

His long black hair and cloak fluttered in the wind, and the large gold-rimmed eye on the back of his cloak shimmered faintly, appearing and disappearing in turns.

As he slowly approached the mansion, the Prophet’s expression remained completely blank, even somewhat dazed.

[AAAAAA Prophet without the blindfold is even hotter than Prophet with the blindfold—I can’t handle this!!]

[He’s so adorable, oh my god, huhuhuhu]

[Still, the same clueless mushroom-like he doesn’t even know why he’s here, hahaha]

[How does someone like this have such terrifying power??]

[Stop being jealous, hahaha]

[Jealous? Of a god labeled "the weakest"?]

[Has this stupid dungeon system ever been trustworthy? Not a single monster has lasted more than two seconds in front of the Prophet, hahaha]

[The only reason he’s called the weakest god is that he has terrible stamina and slow reactions, is shy and awkward, and even fears humans—sometimes even monsters. The more you describe him, the more ridiculous it sounds, hahaha]

[I’m curious how this dungeon is going to end—probably with some absurd punchline, hahaha]

"Bang!"

The large kitchen door suddenly flew open with a kick. Drake led the group inside.

Inside, Chef Ethan was still diligently chopping meat. Upon hearing the noise, he turned his head, confusion evident in the eyes peeking out from the cardboard box on his head.

"You all are—"

Before he could finish his sentence, a gleaming arc sliced clean through his neck—it was none other than Drake’s massive sword.

The blade cleanly severed Ethan’s head, sending it flying and landing beside Drake’s feet. The motion was swift, smooth, and utterly merciless.

Fiona stepped forward, just about to pull the box off Ethan’s head, but his body turned to dust before she could. He vanished without a trace.

Fiona frowned and murmured, "It’s not supposed to be this simple..."

Drake scoffed, "Try killing the other monsters—bet they’re just as easy."

Hearing that, Fiona immediately charged forward. The sword in her hand glowed with an eerie light as she stormed up the stairs, the others quickly following behind.

At the top of the stairs stood two maids. They frowned, not even getting a word out before Fiona decapitated them.

Their heads rolled down the steps, their bodies collapsing with heavy thuds.

"Bang!"

The door to Vincent’s room burst open violently—Fiona’s methods were, in truth, not much different from Drake’s.

Inside, the butler was standing next to Vincent. Seeing such a rude maid barge in, he shouted, "Who are you?! Where are Sana and Nana?!"

As he spoke, he stormed toward Fiona, his eyes full of rage.

Fiona gave him no chance to speak further. With a single swing, she severed the butler’s head.

His body collapsed on the floor, dead before he even understood why. The eyes on his rolling head still held that burning anger.

Seeing a maid brandishing a sword and killing the butler, Vincent panicked slightly. He stood up, face stern with a hint of fear.

"Who are you? Have I offended you somehow?"

Fiona only felt that this monster was still trying to act, even at the end. Not giving him the chance to utter more lies, she lunged at him—her sword flashing as it slashed down toward Vincent.

"Clang!!!"

A sound like metal crashing against metal rang out.

Visit freewe𝑏n(o)v𝒆l.𝑐𝘰𝑚 for the best novel reading experience