[The Glutton] – The Prophet's Part (2)

As soon as the massive gate closed, a system notification appeared before everyone's eyes.

[Recently, strange occurrences have plagued Adonis Castle, leaving the two counts in utter fear. In desperation, they have spent a fortune to summon you—the kingdom's most brilliant detectives—to investigate these mysteries. Mission: Uncover the strange events in Adonis Castle! Humans, good luck.]

The dungeon system displayed the mission in its usual cold, emotionless text. Drake furrowed his brows—this was the first major difference between this Dungeon and the previous ones. Before, they had to survive within a designated time limit and eliminate the monsters to close the Dungeon. But now, no such time limit had been given. They could be trapped here forever if they failed to complete the mission.

A heavy atmosphere settled over the group, but they continued forward into the castle. The structure was vast yet carried an eerie, oppressive air. Though it was broad daylight outside, the interior remained dimly lit by flickering candlelight. Instead of bringing warmth, the glow cast deep shadows, emphasizing the castle's ancient, decaying grandeur.

The moment he stepped inside, Drake instinctively wrinkled his nose. The castle reeked of a sickening stench—a putrid mix of rot, decaying corpses, and something oily and metallic as if blood had been left to congeal for days.

Mason clutched his throat, barely suppressing the urge to vomit.

Just then, a grating, gravelly voice—like stones scraping against one another—rang out from the dining hall.

"Brother, have our guests arrived yet? I'm starving."

Everyone instinctively turned toward the direction of the voice.

"Aaaaaaa!"

A sudden scream shattered the silence, making the others flinch.

Mason had collapsed onto the ground, scrambling backward in pure terror. His face was drained of color, and his trembling fingers pointed toward the dining hall. Still, his chattering teeth prevented him from forming coherent words—only panicked, incoherent shrieks escaped his lips.

The two counts leading them suddenly halted in unison. At that same moment, the others felt a distinct shift in the air—an unsettling chill crept through the space, intensifying the scent of blood.

Drake's sharp gaze locked onto the creatures in front of him—monsters merely masquerading in human skin. Though his expression remained unreadable, his entire body had already tensed, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

The two counts turned around with impossible speed, closing the distance to Mason in an instant. Their bulging eyes locked onto him, their lips curling unnaturally wide as they spoke in eerie synchronization.

"Detective, did you see something?"

Mason was too paralyzed with fear to notice their unnatural movements. He continued pointing at the wall, his voice trembling.

"The shadow... the shadow on the wall..."

Everyone turned to look. The flickering candlelight revealed a large, distorted silhouette on the wall—grotesquely oversized, its form slightly warped by the flames.

Mason's breathing quickened. He shook his head violently. "No... no, that's not what I saw..." His voice rose in panic. "I saw it—it was massive, covered in countless tiny arms! It opened its eyes and grinned at me—it told me I would die! I would die! It wants to eat me like it devoured the others in the last round!"

One of the counts let out a condescending chuckle. This detective is not in the best condition. We truly wonder if you detectives can even complete this mission."

As they spoke, their faces twisted. Their eyes bulged as if they were about to pop out, their grins stretched unnaturally wide—ripping open to the edges of their ears. Their necks elongated, contorting into grotesque, unnatural angles.

Mason finally registered the horrifying transformation happening right before his eyes. He had assumed the two men were ordinary nobles—only to watch them morph into nightmarish abominations. His heart pounded violently against his ribs, his lungs struggled for air, and as the monstrous counts loomed closer, his mouth fell open—ready to unleash another terrified scream.

"BAM!"

Out of nowhere, a powerful kick sent Mason flying across the room. His body slammed into the ancient castle wall, shaking loose a cascade of dust and debris.

Mason was in too much pain to speak—he could only cough violently, tears and snot streaming down his face.

Even the two monsters seemed surprised by the sudden turn of events. Their gaze simultaneously shifted toward the one who had disrupted their fun.

Drake stood there, his face devoid of fear as he stared them down. "He's just a rookie. To question the professionalism of an entire team over one newbie? I must say, I doubt your sincerity in inviting us here, dear counts. We haven't even begun our investigation yet."

The creatures' eyes locked onto Drake, brimming with malice. They wanted nothing more than to lunge at him and tear him apart.

But something seemed to be restraining them. As soon as Drake finished speaking, their grotesque forms twisted and distorted—only to revert to their human disguises. Smiling elegantly, they replied with an ominous lilt in their voices: "Then we look forward to your performance, detectives. We do hope you won't disappoint us. Otherwise..."

They didn't finish their sentence, but their mocking, cruel stares said more than enough.

With that, they turned and made their way toward the dining hall. Drake spared a glance at Mason before following them.

John hurried forward to help Mason up, murmuring reassurances.

The others remained solemn. Ron looked down at Mason and said lowly, "Fear will only worsen things."

Mason shot him a glare. "Easy for you to say! This is my first time in a Dungeon!" He didn't dare lash out at Drake, but in front of the others, he was like a live wire—ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

Ron shook his head and said nothing, following after Drake. The rest of the group trailed behind him.

John sighed, trying to calm Mason down. "Come on, they're the only ones who can help us. Get up already."

Mason clenched his jaw, frustration burning in his chest. The more afraid he became, the deeper his anger grew, like a wildfire searching for an escape.

—

[God, Captain Drake is still as badass as ever! When's the part where he finally draws his sword and slaughters these monsters?]

[Look at that guy Mason—he's not surviving the first night. No way Drake's going to save him.]

[Who do you all think will win this scenario? The monsters seem ridiculously strong, but if it's Captain Drake, I think they'll pull through!]

[Some of you must stop fangirling so hard. No matter how strong Drake is, if he breaks the rules, he'll die just like anyone else. Hahaha!]

[I've been waiting for Drake to die for ages. Maybe this is finally the script that kills him off!]

[Honestly, no matter how often I watch, I praise the graphics team of this apocalypse broadcast. These characters look so real, and it's like watching actual people...]

—

Silvanus sat in God's Realm, scanning through the flood of comments at lightning speed.

After days of observation, he concluded that this live broadcast's spectators came from another world. They had no idea they were watching actual events unfold in an entirely different reality. To them, this was just an elaborately produced entertainment program.

These viewers had seen countless Dungeon runs before, which meant they possessed valuable insights about this Dungeon's mechanics.

From his external observations, Silvanus deduced that these monsters remained in their human disguises because specific rules bound them. If a human violates those rules, the creatures can unleash their full power and attack.

Unlike the mindless beasts of previous Dungeons, these creatures had intelligence. They followed the rules.

That made them far more dangerous than anything humanity had faced before.

And things were only getting worse.