Hitman With A Badass System - Chapter 1227: The Real Dungeon Boss

As they soared through the icy landscape on Michael’s makeshift skateboard, Gaya couldn’t resist the opportunity to taunt and mock the other adventurers struggling behind them. “Hey, you slowpokes, try to keep up!” she yelled back, her voice laced with mockery and amusement. “Maybe if you weren’t such clowns, you’d have thought of this first!”

Her laughter rang clear through the cold air, the thrill of their unconventional method of travel making her spirits soar as high as they were. The other adventurers, witnessing their rapid ascent, couldn’t hide their frustration and envy. Lacking the means to use spells without attracting the ancient beast, some resorted to hurling small ice balls in a futile attempt to hit Michael and Gaya. “Take this, you show-offs!” one of them shouted, his ice ball falling pathetically short of its intended targets.

The ice balls, thrown in desperation and without any real hope of hitting their fast-moving targets, were a pitiful response that only served to amuse Gaya further.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” another yelled, his voice tinged with irritation and defeat as his own attempt to disrupt their journey failed miserably.

“Look at these clowns trying to hit us with ice balls!” Gaya laughed, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. “At this rate, we’ll reach the top in no time!”

Michael merely smiled at Gaya’s taunts, focusing on maintaining their speed and direction. The innovative use of his dark flames and the skateboard had given them a significant advantage, which he was determined to capitalize on.

“Damn it! That’s not fair!” one of them yelled, his voice lost in the storm. The other adventurers, left in the wake of Michael and Gaya’s innovative escape, could only watch in disbelief and annoyance. “Who even thinks of making a fucking skateboard in the middle of a snowstorm?” another wondered aloud, the absurdity of the situation not lost on him.

As Michael and Gaya continued their ascent, their unconventional method of travel caught the attention of an Aurumvale elf, who couldn’t hide his irritation. “Somebody stop them!” he shouted, his voice laced with desperation and envy. The sight of the pair effortlessly moving towards the summit was too much for him to bear, especially as he trudged through the snow at a snail’s pace.

Those who had previously encountered Michael and Gaya and bore the glowing green mark of Morbus on their foreheads were quick to recognize them. “That’s them! Those are the bastards responsible for this curse!” one of them yelled, pointing aggressively in their direction. The mark was a constant reminder of their previous encounter, fueling their anger and frustration.

“Yeah, thanks to them, we’re marked for death by a goddamn god of plagues!” another added bitterly, the cold doing nothing to dampen the heat of his anger.

Among the mixed reactions, a group of adventurers who had narrowly escaped Marli’s wrath and the Minotaur’s rampage expressed their disbelief at seeing Michael. “Isn’t that the God of Darkness Marli bragged about trapping?” one whispered to another, their voice a mixture of fear and astonishment.

“Fuck, it is him! He’s supposed to be trapped in that Pandora’s box thing,” another adventurer responded, his eyes wide with shock. The realization that Goddess Marli had claimed to have subdued was now sliding past them on a makeshift skateboard was difficult to comprehend.

“Marli caught him, and now he’s here? How the hell did he escape?” another questioned aloud, trying to piece together the startling events. Their

“Does this mean Marli failed? Are we screwed because of her?” a third adventurer questioned.

As Michael and Gaya zipped through the blizzard atop their ingenious contraption, among the crowd of adventurers witnessing their ascent were Lysandra and Elrion, who had narrowly escaped the clutches of Marli and the Minotaur. Catching sight of the pair, Elrion turned to Lysandra, confusion and disbelief etched across his face. “How the hell did he get out of the Pandora’s box?” Elrion murmured to Lysandra, his tone a mix of bewilderment and awe. The escape from such a trap seemed beyond the realm of possibility, especially after seeing Marli traps the God of Darkness infront of them.

Both Lysandra and Elrion were still reeling from their close encounter with the goddess Marli and the monstrous Minotaur, and now, the sight of the mythical God of Darkness effortlessly navigating the icy terrain added another layer of shock to their already tumultuous day.

Hearing Elrion’s question, Lysandra let out a weary sigh, her breath forming clouds in the cold air. “He doesn’t seem to play by the rules we’re accustomed to with gods,” she observed, trying to make sense of Michael’s actions and their implications. Her comment reflected a growing realization that the God of Darkness, operated on a different level from what they had been taught to expect.

“In this twisted game the gods play, it’s always us mortals who end up as pawns, risking our lives,” she added, her voice tinged with bitterness. The truth of her words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the power imbalance between gods and those who worshipped them.

“I just hope they get to that map first and find a way to lead us out of this nightmare,” Elrion nodded as his gaze was fixed on the distance where Michael and Gaya had disappeared.

“Before that damn spider decides we’re its next meal.” he said with concern. As Michael and Gaya were cutting through the icy winds, Michael’s earpiece suddenly buzzed to life. “This is not a good time, Pink,” Michael said as he tried to maintain their precarious speed.

However, Pink’s voice came through the earpiece with an unusual seriousness. “It’s important,” she insisted, prompting Michael to slow their breakneck pace slightly, a sign that he was willing to listen despite the timing.

Tuning into the communication with her own earpiece, Gaya urged.

“Speak, Pink. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been digging through some of Seraphene’s crystals after I hacked into them, and I found out that Silvaris isn’t quite the character he claims to be,” she began to reveal more information about the infamous thief and the creator of this dungeon.

Michael, now fully attentive, prompted, “What do you mean?”

“While he boasts of being an angel of Valorix, the god of thievery, and prides himself on stealing valuables, beasts, and artifacts… I found records suggesting that Silvaris has a darker hobby. He doesn’t just steal physical treasures; he steals souls.” Pink revealed, catching both Michael and Gaya off guard.

The revelation sent a shiver down their spines, the gravity of Pink’s findings dawning on them. “Did she just say he steals souls?” Gaya asked with a mix of shock and disbelief.

It took Gaya a few moments to react after what Pink revealed. Since she already hated Silvaris to the core, the fact he steals souls only fanned the flames of anger in her heart.

“That fucking Silvaris! Are you telling me that sneaky bastard steals souls too? I knew he was fucked up in the head,” she exclaimed, showing her shock and revulsion at the thought of someone, especially someone they were indirectly working against, possessing such a dark and dangerous ability.

Meanwhile, Michael processed the information while maintaining control of the skateboard.

“Is there any mention of why he steals souls?” he asked.

“Unfortunately, the records I hacked into don’t specify his reasons. But let’s be real, stealing souls isn’t exactly a hobby you take up for shits and giggles. It’s not like he’s collecting stamps,” Pink replied.

After hearing Pink, Michael slowed the skateboard almost to a stop as he reached the summit of the mountain. Then, he gazed towards the mountain top, where their goal lay obscured by swirling snow and ice. “Keep digging, Pink. Anything you find could be crucial. Keep me updated,” he instructed, knowing full well that understanding Silvaris’s motives could be key to navigating the dangers ahead and possibly confronting the thief himself.

After ending the communication with Pink, Gaya’s expression was one of concern mixed with a dose of her usual defiance. “We need to be fucking careful, human,” she warned while looking ahead, where the snowstorm continued to rage. Her intuition told her that they were far from understanding the full extent of Silvaris’s machinations.

“Fucked up guys like him don’t just hand over their treasures like they’re hosting a damn charity gala,” Gaya added, her voice dripping with skepticism. The idea that Silvaris, a being capable of soul theft, would simply allow them to walk away with valuable treasures seemed increasingly ludicrous.

Even after all this, Michael remained calm as usual, and he even had a smile on his face.

“Let’s see what game he’s playing,” he said with a flicker of excitement in his eyes. His curiosity about Silvaris’s true intentions was piqued, not just by the threat he posed but also by the potential knowledge and power at stake.

Then, with a slight nudge, Michael resumed their movement on the skateboard, picking up speed as they made their way toward the summit. “After all, a game’s only as interesting as its players,” he mused aloud.

******************

Somewhere else in the dungeon was a lavish throne hall adorned with opulence t with an old man sitting upon a golden throne. His wrinkly skin stretched over brittle bones, yellowish teeth barely clinging on, and white, lifeless eyes staring into the void. An array of tubes, more fitting of a hospital ward than a throne room, were attached to him, with a shiny white liquid flowing into his veins.

Before him, a large mirror displayed various scenes from around the world, including the treacherous snowy mountain the adventurers were currently ascending. The mirror flickered with images of lush forests, dark mazes, and serene lakes with giant monsters. Each of the scene was alive with the struggles of the adventurers.

Looking at the mirror before him, the old man just laughed with a sound both eerie and mocking. “Look at these fucking fools, blindly scurrying around, their eyes gleaming with the promise of treasure,” he sneered, his voice thick with disdain. “Little do they know, they’re just rats in my maze, driven by their own greed, walking straight into my trap.” He said, leaning forward.

“They think they’re fighting for gold, for artifacts, for glory… but in the end, it’s their souls that will fill my coffers,” he continued, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Their greed, their desperation, it makes them so… deliciously vulnerable.”

With a dismissive wave of his hand, the scenes in the mirror shifted, but his focus remained on the snowy mountain. “Let them come. Let them climb. In their blind pursuit, they’ll deliver themselves right into my grasp,” he declared as the promise of countless souls fueling his dark amusement.