My Atypical Wolf (BL) - Chapter 92

Every hero starts with power. He started with dust.One moment, the classroom buzzed with teenage chatter. The next, silence fell. Students blinked—and opened their eyes in an ancient hall carved from gold and marble. The air shimmered with divine magic. And at its center stood a goddess—flawless, proud, unbelievably beautiful and wrapped in flowing white.It was a divine summoning performed by a divine goddess.Among them was Vritra… and his stunningly beautiful mother.While others received blessings, powerful physiques and grand titles, Vritra was given a skill so pathetic it made even the goddess wrinkle her nose. An ability—so pitifully weak that it drew laughter, scorn, and even disgust. But that wasn't the worst part.Betrayed and cornered inside the labyrinth, Vritra had two choices: die… or fall into the death trap.A death canopy with no exit and no chance of survival, the only option was to slaughter the demons endlessly for months.Finally!! He forced his dormant skill to awaken, after killing thousands and hundreds of thousands demons and devouring them, becoming a broken ability.******White robes. Cold arroganceA sinful revenge.White robes can stain. And in the dark, even divinity can moan.And then there was his mo— guilt in her breath, shame in her eyes, whispering apologies between gasps in her son's ear, doing what had to be done… for both their sakes.

I was stuck in a dungeon explosion while working so hard that I actually died.

But when I opened my eyes, I was back to the time of 3 years ago!

Well, I will live differently in this life. Salary is goodbye to s*ave life. I quit immediately and set up a cafe in the store my grandmother left behind.

There are no customers because she is right in front of a dungeon, but it doesn’t matter. All I want is to work two days and play five days. But.

Also, the attractive regular customer who keeps bothering me is somehow unusual.

It doesn’t feel good. Isn’t it like the story of the main character of the RPG, who was just trying to run an errand, and ends up fighting the devil after getting caught up in something annoying?

Yes, I will not. I can not. I have no intention of playing more than the role of a novice innkeeper.”

Leon Vale’s world stopped when the chamber labeled him F-Rank, no spark, just Empty Core.One dozen sparks in a sea of a thousand chances. A near-miracle of failure, somehow flopped harder than flatlining.In Neo-Veridia, strength rules the game, no exceptions. Those who are tough get hailed as champions; others? They're stuck cleaning up messes. Might makes right here, plain and simple.Leon ended up on the ground. That’s where he landed, no surprise there.Later, the red moon climbed into view. Right after, creatures smashed past the shield. His siblings stood near death yet deep in his Empty Core, an old force stirred awake.[ SHADOW EXTRACTION SYSTEM ACTIVATED ]Leon takes energy from whatever he defeats. Each time a creature falls, he gains more strength. As shadows vanish into him, he drifts toward a mystery - something waits in a space beyond places: a seat atop no land, while a voiceless headpiece calls out to him through empty dark.Yet taking what’s not yours brings trouble.On top of everything else, the Evernight Alliance caught wind. Not just vampires - werewolves too. Old creatures that oughta be myths are poking at the city’s walls, messing up dungeon cores, chasing whatever’s pumping out that dark energy signal.Hunting for him.Leon’s stuck in a risky move, quietly getting stronger so he can shield his folks, hitting school while sneaking around to pull out shadows, acting powerless even though some old, grim force now names him successor.That F-Rank tag? Total fake. His Empty Core isn't broken, it fights. Each darkness he swallows drags him nearer to a reality he can’t face yetNot every seat of power fits a hero.Some crowns come from shadows, built on bones.Some kids just inherit stuff whether they like it or not.The Crimson Moon marked the start. What’s coming next? Things are about to heat up.

“The Second Cult Leader and the Prophet of the Voodooists died during the Holy War seven years ago.”

Florence Academy was a prestigious clergy academy.

“Now that the Voodooists are considered as a cult, who is the Third Cult Leader, where are they now, and what are they up to?”

Only I knew the answer to this question.

The Third Cult Leader was a freshman at Florence Academy. He was here, standing amongst the others in the auditorium.

How do I know this, you ask?

Because I’m the Cult Leader.

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .