CHAPTER 248: THE PLAN

"Layla, what does the world look like in your eyes?"

So gray, so ugly...

"Then make it shine once more."

I can’t.

"No, you can contribute."

Frank had always been a seeker of talent, a guide to illuminate the path for them. He always believed that the world would return to normal one day, and that every human being could lay down a brick toward that future.

Layla no longer remembered clearly what this world initially looked like. She only knew that now, it was filled with swirling black smoke. And every time Frank approached her, that sky-choking smoke would pour out from him, devouring him until his very soul twisted in pain.

He was constantly calling for help. He pleaded, he begged. But she couldn’t do anything. The foul black smoke seemed intent on winding around her, burning her away.

Beneath the ashen sky stood jet-black pillars that radiated ominous energy, emanating from the Curtis family’s domain, their very headquarters, and the capital itself. Layla no longer knew how many times she had awakened from nightmares of this world, tormented by humanity itself—the very ones who had sworn to protect it.

So many had died. The black smoke swallowed all of them, their forms twisted and grotesque. And she could do nothing but watch, an outsider, a bystander. She gazed at the lone star in the sky with wide-open eyes—a star that existed only in her dreams.

God... God...

If a god truly existed...

If divinity were absolute, Layla could never imagine such a being looking like the so-called deities that had appeared.

If a true god existed... surely He would embrace this broken world.

The star was so far away. She could never reach it.

But God, I beg You—no matter what form You take or what visage—please, have mercy...

Layla collapsed at the gates of Silvanus’s temple, tears streaming from her weary eyes. Her head throbbed with pain; she no longer understood what was happening. The world before her blurred. Perhaps this was simply the result of overwork.

Yet Layla did not resist. She closed her eyes. She knew she would live until the very end. So, don’t worry—just sleep.

[So many faith points.] The acting system suddenly chimed in.

[Quite surprising, considering you haven’t even started performing.]

"You’re unusually talkative today," Silvanus said coldly, though he felt a growing sense of danger surrounding his cloak. First it had been Silas, now Layla—each one eager to sneak a glance beneath his shroud.

[I think you should be worried about Leonard.]

Silvanus said nothing.

For now, at least, he could trust they hadn’t found the honest answer. And it was time for him to check on Frank, who drove Layla into such fear and despair...

Frank returned home after a long, exhausting day of work that night.

Those fools kept pushing for greater efficiency without a quality care. They had no idea that haste only made everything crumble all the faster!

He brushed his slightly long hair behind his head and wiped his face with one hand. The short stubble on his chin pricked his palm, but he didn’t mind. Instead, he sprawled across the sofa, eyes wide open, staring at the pitch-black ceiling, his gaze vacant, as though his mind had wandered elsewhere.

At that moment, a face suddenly appeared within his field of vision.

From above, Silvanus looked down at him and spoke softly: "You look rather tired, don’t you?"

Frank flinched a little, his brows twitching, the corner of his mouth jerking. "Priest Silvanus, I didn’t expect you to have the time to visit me like this. Quite the surprise—nearly gave me a heart attack."

Silvanus narrowed his eyes slightly at him, saying nothing.

Priest Silvanus was always like this. Frank was long accustomed to it. He chuckled. "Today, I really am tired. I won’t be able to host you properly."

Silvanus ignored his words. His gaze stayed fixed on Frank. His eyes were bloodshot, swollen, heavy with dark circles, and his whole body radiated an unbearable fatigue.

"Frank, do you have faith?"

"Haha, what’s this? Priest Silvanus, are you proselytizing now? I’d be glad to listen, but I’m so tired I probably won’t even catch what you say." Frank laughed as he spoke.

Indeed, he remained sprawled on the sofa. Aside from moving his mouth to speak, he showed no sign of wanting to shift even slightly.

"Then, do you have a desire?" Silvanus asked again.

Frank raised his brows, answering directly: "Of course I do. I want this world to be at peace! Peace—you know, that’s the most beautiful thing!"

"I suppose you’ve already found a way to bring peace to this world," Silvanus replied.

Frank’s smile slowly faded. After a long silence, he suddenly sighed. "So Layla has spoken."

Silvanus’s expression remained unmoved. "Nothing can escape the eyes of God. Frank, choose carefully what you put your faith in. Not every piece of trash is worthy of worship."

At those words, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted, coming alive with tension. Frank abruptly curled up, clutching his head, his face twisted in pain.

Straightening, Silvanus vanished from the room in an instant. He could now conclude that that thing had indeed influenced Frank’s mind.

But that thing... it had no proper form. Its presence was strange—perhaps merely a shard of faith belonging to an Outer God.

Frank longed desperately for peace in this world. Thus, he worshiped the existence he believed could grant it.

Faith—sometimes it was truly incomprehensible, impossible to control. It could make the most rational person lose all reason, especially when harboring deep yearning. Just the faintest possibility of fulfillment was enough to drive someone into madness, willing to do anything to achieve it, even offering themselves up.

For Frank, the path he had chosen was, in his eyes, the right one.

But if he had placed his belief in an Outer God, then from the very beginning, it was already wrong.

He really wanted to find that thing and crush it.

[What if you can’t win?] The acting system made its presence known.

Silvanus curled his lips into a smile. "I don’t feel so useless as all that."

If he were already torn apart, that thing surely wouldn’t have a happy ending either. They were all patching themselves up, ready to fight again.

The next morning, Layla woke up alone in the hospital. Her body still felt weak but much better than the previous day.

When the nurse saw her awake, she quickly instructed what to watch out for. Layla, however, seemed unable to hear. She gripped the paper in her hand tightly and didn’t open it until the nurse had left.

[Help the government accelerate the completion of artificial espers, or abduct a few people; next dungeon, they need to appear.]

When Layla finished reading, the words glowed before disappearing into golden dust. She crumpled the paper in her hand, her eyes slightly downcast, and whispered, "I will definitely succeed."

As if speaking to someone else, as if speaking to herself.

Meanwhile, Silvanus had entered the temple of the archangel Lucifer.

Gabriel had told him that he had once met Raphael and Lucifer. Thinking of the one abnormal dungeon, Silvanus guessed that he had likely encountered them there in the dungeon [The Corpse Collector]. Judging by Raphael and Lucifer’s personalities, there was no way they could be side by side without chaos ensuing.

Silvanus sought Lucifer instead of Raphael because Raphael surely aligned with Gabriel. If Gabriel didn’t want to reveal anything, Raphael wouldn’t either. On the other hand, Lucifer was the only uncontrollable factor here—perhaps he might blurt out something.

But Silvanus had expected too much. Lucifer wasn’t even in the temple!

He had probably returned to visit Hell, Silvanus muttered inwardly.

For now, he would consider that he had found the only path to restoration. The more dungeons he dealt with, the more energy he could restore!

No matter the reason, the attitude of the archangels was overly strange.

[They won’t harm you, anyway.] The acting system appeared again.

"You’ve been talking a lot lately, yet you still won’t answer me. What exactly are you?"

The acting system immediately fell silent, disappearing beneath the surface.