บท 216: Dionysus HQ and sacred scrolls
(Levi Strauss POV)
Unbelievable. The sight before me shattered every expectation I had of a cult's hidden sanctuary.
Festivity and joy filled the underground chamber. Animated conversations mixed with theatrical performances, creating an atmosphere more akin to a celebration than a secret gathering.
"This..." The word escaped me involuntarily.
"What do you think?" Elena asked beside me.
I glanced between her and the lively scene. "This is nothing like what I imagined a cult hideout would be!"
Elena's knowing smile suggested she'd heard this before. "Everyone has that same look their first time here. Come on, there's an empty table over there."
As we walked, I took in the diverse crowd. Dwarves, demons, and elves mingled freely with humans - no trace of the usual racial tensions. Instead, they shared wine and laughter like old friends.
"Another recruit, Sister Elena?" A dwarf called out as we passed.
Elena's simple nod triggered a flood of suspicious comments.
"Make sure he's not a spy!"
"Did anyone follow him?"
"If he's a spy, we'll have to silence him!"
My throat went dry. The burly dwarves, fierce-eyed demons, and stern elves suddenly seemed less festive and more threatening. Even the quiet humans watched me with calculated gazes, wine cups in hand but ready for action.
"He's 99% safe, everyone. Don't worry," Elena joked, though her words carried weight.
"That means there's 1% chance he's a spy!" a demon spat.
A human's cold voice cut through the tension. "As long as he doesn't bring the law down on us or empty our wine stores, I don't care."
These people would absolutely kill me if they suspected anything, I realized as we took our seats, a chill running down my spine.
Elena noticed my obvious fear. "Don't mind them. They're just protective," she assured me. "Once they know you, they'll treat you like their closest friend."
I nodded uncertainly, taking in the chaotic celebration around me. The theater performance commanded one corner, while dancers spun nearby, collecting tossed coins from appreciative watchers.
"Why is there a theater here? And those dancers, and-" I pointed to a woman strumming a guitar in the distance, her voice carrying over the crowd. "She's singing. It all seems so... random. What's really going on?"
Elena's patient smile suggested she'd heard this question before. "You can't truly understand until you're a follower of Dionysus. Only then will you see why we have theater, dance, song, and even that bard telling stories in the corner."
Her cryptic answer only confused me more. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Instead of explaining, Elena reached into her robe and pulled out a folded paper. "Rather than questions, you should read this prayer to Dionysus. Become a follower - then everything will make sense."
I took the paper skeptically, unfolding it to find an actual prayer.
"Go on," Elena encouraged. "Recite it with true faith in your heart, and He will answer. Then you'll be an official follower of Dionysus."
I recited the prayer, trying to fill each word with faith and meaning. Nothing happened.
"You're not truly opening your heart," Elena observed. "He won't take halfhearted devotion seriously."
"But I am serious," I protested.
"Then prove it." Her voice carried gentle challenge.
Taking a deep breath, I tried again, focusing on each word. Still nothing.
Elena's gaze felt heavy with judgment.
"I'm doing my best," I defended myself, glancing around the bustling chamber. "Maybe there's just too much distraction here."
"Then let's find somewhere quieter." Elena rose. "This place has thirty-seven rooms. Most people don't realize how vast it truly is."
Following her through winding passages, I began to grasp the hideout's true scale. This wasn't just a hidden room - it was an underground complex that could house a small village.
We stopped before an old wooden door. "After you," Elena gestured.
Inside, a statue commanded the room - a young man carved with extraordinary skill. His face held otherworldly beauty, yet something about his slight smile suggested hidden knowledge, secret truths. Despite the room's weathered walls, the statue looked pristine.
"Is this..."
"Yes," Elena interjected. "Our talented dwarf sculptors created this. The statue of Dionysus himself."
The longer I stared at the statue, the more I felt drawn into its mysterious aura, as if those stone eyes held answers to questions I hadn't yet thought to ask.
"Look at the inscription," Elena directed my attention to pristine text carved in stone beside the statue. "Read about the god you wish to serve. It may help open your heart." She paused meaningfully. "You're neither an innocent child nor truly suffering - that makes faith harder to find."
I nodded, understanding the subtle rebuke. As part of the wealthy Strauss family, I'd never known real hardship. Even as the family's black sheep, my life remained cushioned by privilege and wealth.
"I'll leave you to reflect," Elena said, closing the door behind her.
Alone in the vast chamber, I approached the inscription and began to read:
'Born of no mortal father, but willed into existence by the heavens, Dionysus arrived—a child of prophecy, veiled in divine mystery. From his virgin mother chosen by the gods, he inherited a destiny to heal the grieving, unite the broken, and banish suffering with his boundless grace.
Where his name is spoken, vines flourish, sorrows fade, and love finds the lost. Dionysus, the harbinger of paradise, promises revelry and renewal, breaking the chains of sorrow and leading all to a life where joy reigns eternal. His touch transforms, his words inspire, and his light offers not mere salvation, but a taste of divine abundance and unity.
To follow him is to step into a world where the fragmented are made whole and the weary find rest—a life of endless wonder, liberation, and grace.'
The words resonated deeper than I expected. For the first time, I let go of my doubts and skepticism. Closing my eyes, I recited the prayer again - not to get a response, but because I truly wanted to believe.
Warmth bloomed in my chest, and golden light pierced my closed eyelids. I opened them to see shimmering particles dancing in the air, so bright I had to look away.
When the radiance faded, a golden scroll hung suspended before me.
"What is this?" I whispered, reaching toward it with trembling fingers.
My eyes widened as golden letters materialized on the floating scroll:
{Divine Follower Status
Name: Levi Strauss
Level: 1
Current Faith Points: 1
Stats:
Strength: 8
Intelligence: 15
Charisma: 12
Willpower: 10
Available Career Paths:
- Stage Actor
- Musician/Bard
- Dancer
- Storyteller
- Filmmaker
- Festival Organizer
Select your path to begin earning Faith Points}
"What... What is this..." I whispered, drinking in every detail as more text shimmered into existence, explaining the system's intricacies.
The scroll revealed everything about me - not just basic attributes, but potential paths I could follow. Each career offered different ways to earn Faith Points, which could be exchanged for divine favors.
As a filmmaker, for instance, I could accumulate points through creating works that moved people's hearts. Those points could then be used in the Followers Shop for various blessings.
Looking at my current balance - 1 FP - I noticed I could exchange it for a cup of Dionysus's sacred wine.
"This is incredible!" I exclaimed, marveling at the divine system's elegance.
***
(3rd Person POV)
At Hellfire Studio, preparations for "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" were underway. John approached his protagonist role with newfound confidence, knowing his abilities had been divinely enhanced.
The sacred scroll Arthur had gifted him proved invaluable. Not only could John track his talents precisely, but the Followers Shop allowed him to pray for items or attribute improvements - provided he had sufficient Faith Points.
Converting Faith Points into real talent required significant dedication - 1,000 FP for a single Talent Point in the Followers Shop. John had spent 2,000 FP to increase his acting talent by two points, but the results were remarkable. Even this modest improvement had transformed his performance abilities dramatically.
John had also been getting along well with his co-stars. He was particularly excited about working with Vivienne, a famous actress he had admired for a long time.
At the same time, he was immersing himself deeply in becoming Randle, exploring potential approaches to perfect the character.
Meanwhile, Arthur observed a steady growth in his Divine Points since implementing the "Divine Revelry System." Nearly 70% of his followers were pursuing entertainment-related careers to earn Faith Points.
However, Arthur couldn't help but wonder if the advanced levels of the "Divine Revelry System" might eventually include careers related to electronics, such as programming, game development, or other computer science fields.
---
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บท 217: John's career path
(John POV)
Sleep eluded me as anticipation coursed through my veins.
Tomorrow marks the beginning of "Cuckoo's Nest" - my first leading role, starring alongside the famous Vivienne Westwood and directed by Lord Arthur himself.
Even now, lying in my apartment bedroom, it feels more dream than reality.
These past week working closely with Lord Arthur have only deepened my devotion.
His brilliance as a director shines through every decision, yet he remains remarkably attentive to both actors and crew. Such consideration from one of his stature... it still amazes me.
My fingers traced the edges of his most recent gift - a golden scroll that even now pulses with subtle divine energy.
Though the initial brilliant light has faded, its otherworldly aura remains unmistakable. This precious artifact has become my constant companion, revealing truths about myself I never knew existed.
{Divine Follower Status
Name: John Joseph Nicholson
Level: 1
Current Faith Points: 15
Stats:
Strength: 6
Intelligence: 9
Charisma: 11
Willpower: 12
Talents:
Acting - Psychological Depth: 5
Method Performance: 3}
The scroll's revelations about my talents, particularly my "Psychological Depth" in acting, helped guide my path choice.
When presented with the three subclass of Stage Actor - Drama, Comedy, and Method - I found myself drawn to Method despite its challenges. Something about completely inhabiting a character's psyche resonated with my natural inclinations.
Yet the system's complexity still overwhelms me at times. Beyond the initial career and subclass choices lie the roles - Political, Business, and Educational paths, or even hybrid combinations of these. Each choice shapes how my Method Acting abilities might develop, leading down vastly different roads.
I pressed the scroll to my chest, its familiar warmth somewhat soothing my racing thoughts.
Tomorrow would change everything - my first day as a lead actor under Lord Arthur's guidance. The weight of the opportunity pressed against my chest, equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.
As sleep finally began to claim me, my last conscious thought was a prayer of gratitude to Lord Arthur - both director and deity, who'd given a common man like me such extraordinary chances.
---
Dawn crept through my window, and with it came that familiar surge of excitement. But today was different - today I needed to become Randle. As a {Stage Actor - Method Actor}, raw enthusiasm had no place. Only the character mattered now.
I sat cross-legged on my bed, letting my eyes fall closed.
The golden scroll pulsed faintly beside me, its divine energy seeming to resonate with my "Psychological Depth" talent.
Combined with the "Method Performance" abilities I'd gained from my chosen path, I could feel the boundaries between John and Randle McMurphy beginning to blur.
Questions rose unbidden in my mind, each one pulling me deeper into Randle's psyche: 'What does freedom mean to me?'
The answer came in Randle's voice, not my own: "Freedom ain't just about being able to walk where you want. It's about being able to laugh when you want, cry when you want, be human when every damn person around you is trying to turn you into something else. It's about fighting back when the world wants to cage your spirit."
'What drives my desire to escape this oppressive environment?'
"It ain't just about getting out," Randle's thoughts flowed through me. "It's about showing them they can't break us. Every smile I force, every laugh I share with the other patients - that's a victory. They can lock up our bodies, but they can't cage our souls unless we let them."
"I value freedom," I murmured, feeling the weight of each word. "I am rebellious..."
But it wasn't complete. Something deeper stirred within the character. "Not just rebellious," I continued, understanding flowing like water. "I'm vulnerable. Not evil, but human. Deeply, painfully human. A man grappling with moments of weakness while trying to maintain the strength others need to see."
The realization settled into my bones - Randle wasn't simply a charming troublemaker.
Behind his infectious grin and defiant spirit lay an ocean of sadness, a profound understanding of human suffering that drove him to fight against it however he could.
When I opened my eyes, I felt Randle P. McMurphy emerge through me - a man who'd use laughter as a weapon against despair, who'd challenge authority not out of hatred but from a deep love for human dignity.
A man whose greatest strength lay in his ability to remain human in an inhuman system. Though I remained John Nicholson, I could now channel Randle's spirit with an authenticity that only method acting could achieve.
***
(Arthur POV)
Today was the day. The notorious Elder Bane Asylum in the Old District would serve as our set for "Cuckoo's Nest." The building's weathered brick walls and rusted iron gates spoke of decades of contained suffering.
Ordinary people avoided this place religiously. Even demons, typically unfazed by paranormal activity and ghosts, hesitated to venture anywhere near the asylum grounds. Something about the building's presence seemed to push visitors away instinctively.
The crunch of gravel under my tires echoed across the nearly empty parking lot as I pulled in.
Two guards stood at attention by the front gate, their tough expressions softening slightly as they nodded in greeting.
Through the heavy iron gates and past the squeaking main doors, I made my way to the day room where we'd begin filming.
The scent of antiseptic barely masked years of institutional staleness.
The day room buzzed with activity - crew members making final adjustments while our actors, dressed as patients or nurses, mingled with the room's regular occupants.
Near the window, Vivienne sat conversing with a real patient whose restless eyes never quite focused on anything.
She rose at my approach. "Arthur." A simple nod.
"Holding up alright?" I couldn't resist teasing. "If it's too much, Selina Taylor's just a phone call away."
"I'm fine." Vivienne's smile faded as she gazed around the room. "Actually, instead of fear, all I feel is sadness for these people..."
In the corner, a middle-aged woman in a faded gown pulled repeatedly at her hair while a nurse tried gently to still her hands. Another patient traced invisible patterns on the wall, his movements growing more frantic until an orderly guided him away. Most wore that distant expression unique to long-term residents - eyes glazed, movements mechanical.
"The more I learn about mental health these past few days, the heavier my heart gets." Vivienne's sigh carried genuine pain. "If only I could help them somehow..."
I understood her feelings completely. These patients' conditions stirred something in me too. As Dionysus, I could actually heal them through John's prayers, channeling divine power to clear their troubled minds.
The severity of their conditions would determine the Divine Point cost, though John's Faith Points could help offset the burden. The real question was whether he'd be willing to use those points to help these strangers.
I could heal them myself without John's prayers, but that would drain my divine points significantly. Mental illness wasn't like healing a physical wound - it required delicate manipulation of the mind and spirit, consuming far more power than simple ailments.
My Divine Healing ability was still at a low level, nowhere near potent enough to properly cure these conditions.
Without leveling up that skill first, any attempt would just waste divine points for incomplete results.
Pushing aside these thoughts, I turned to Vivienne. "Where's John? He's usually the first one here."
She glanced around the room. "Haven't seen him yet..."
A few minutes later, John walked through the door, and I immediately noticed something different about his presence. Gone was his usual careful demeanor, replaced by something rawer, more defiant.
"John seems completely different today," Vivienne murmured beside me, then added with growing understanding, "He's fully immersed in his character already."
"You're right." I nodded, studying his transformation.
Before, John had struggled to fully embody Randle, but today the change was remarkable. His posture, his walk, even the way his eyes assessed the room - everything screamed Randle McMurphy.
The Divine Revelry System had obviously done its work. What would have taken most actors weeks of preparation, John had achieved through divine blessing and genuine dedication to his craft.
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