Becoming a God Starts with Acting-Chapter 341: They Were Friends

Why would someone like Silvanus have a friend like Matthew?

Silvanus had left the orphanage long ago. Without government aid, survival itself was a struggle—and their biggest problem, of course, was food.

The place they lived in now lay on the outskirts of the capital, Luminous—a chaotic boundary between the rich and the poor.

The wealthy thrived on slaughter and exploitation; the poor suffered from being slaughtered and exploited.

The streets here were perpetually pitch-black, covered in layers of grime, waste, and stagnant water that had built up over the years.

The people who lived here had grown so accustomed to the stench that they barely noticed it anymore.

Sometimes, mingled within that foul odor was the metallic tang of corpses—but even then, no one cared.

In this barren land, one could live a little longer simply by caring less about the affairs of others.

Even the sky above was dim and heavy, rarely touched by light.

Silvanus often wondered: If the Land of Light is already like this, then just how terrible must the Land of Darkness be?

Perhaps it had no light at all... that must be unbearable.

He soon noticed Matthew following him. Silvanus frowned and turned around, startling the boy. Matthew froze but kept staring at him with wide eyes, paying no heed to his bloodied feet as he cried out, "Silvanus, please, let me come with you!"

Tears streamed down his face. He knew all too well that, deep down, Silvanus was softhearted.

Sure enough, Silvanus clicked his tongue in irritation but finally said, "Fine. But find your own food."

Matthew was overjoyed—so much that he barely felt the pain in his feet anymore.

He followed Silvanus, squeezing into narrow alleys and hidden corners to share whatever shelter they could find.

Even though Silvanus told him to fend for himself, whenever there was extra food, Silvanus would never let him starve.

All Matthew could do in return was to tidy up their rundown shack and chatter endlessly, even though Silvanus often complained about how annoying he was.

Then, one day, Silvanus came back—his entire body covered in blood.

One of his legs was mangled, the bone piercing through flesh as he dragged himself into the house, leaving behind a long trail of crimson.

They locked eyes for only a few seconds before Silvanus collapsed.

Matthew immediately rushed forward to catch him, only to see his hands covered in blood. Silvanus looked as though he had just bathed in it—his body riddled with wounds, his face bruised and bleeding.

Before Matthew could say anything, Silvanus suddenly shoved him aside with surprising strength, letting himself fall heavily to the ground.

"Silvanus!"

Matthew’s voice trembled with panic.

"Get lost!" Silvanus suddenly barked.

Matthew froze in place.

"Get out of here. I’m about to die. Go find someone else who can protect you," Silvanus growled, sounding more like a wounded beast than a boy.

Matthew had no idea what Silvanus had been doing outside, but judging by his condition, they probably needed to run.

A strange clarity filled Matthew’s mind.

He gritted his teeth and forced Silvanus onto his back. Silvanus buried his face against Matthew’s shoulder, a mocking laugh slipping from his lips as if ridiculing Matthew’s foolishness. "I told you—staying with me will only get you killed."

Matthew pressed his lips tightly together. After a long pause, he murmured, "If it weren’t for you, I’d have died a long time ago."

Even if he hadn’t died long ago, he would’ve starved to death with nothing but garbage in his stomach after the orphanage was shut down.

He couldn’t even wipe his tears—both hands were busy holding Silvanus up.

Silvanus said nothing. His breathing had grown so faint it was almost gone.

Matthew could feel the sticky warmth of blood seeping through his fingers, making him tremble uncontrollably. "Silvanus! Silvanus! You can’t die! Silvanus!" he stammered through his tears.

"Be quiet," Silvanus said at last, his voice slow and filled with disgust. Matthew let out a shaky breath and dared not speak again.

Compared to Silvanus, he was small and frail—each step he took was heavy and unsteady.

"Where should we go, Silvanus?" he whispered.

"Anywhere but here."

After a pause, Silvanus added weakly, "I told you... If you keep dragging me along, we’ll both die. Just wait for death."

"Silvanus..." Matthew murmured, his voice trembling as quiet sobs escaped him.

Silvanus ignored him—or perhaps he simply no longer had the strength to respond.

In the end, Matthew realized that no matter how many times he called, Silvanus wouldn’t answer anymore.

But his heart was still beating. Thank goodness. Thank goodness...

Silvanus, you’ll be fine. You’ll live.

Yes, Silvanus had always been that way since they were children—nothing could ever defeat him. Even if he fell into a valley, as long as he kept walking forward, that path would eventually lead him to the mountaintop.

Matthew would follow him through that valley, and then, no matter which mountain peak Silvanus climbed, he would never leave Matthew behind.

"Just... a little farther, Silvanus..."

Thud! Thump!

"Ha ha ha, the little brat really dared to mess with us!"

"Beat him to death."

"Hurry up, take us to Silvanus!"

The noise buzzed endlessly in Silvanus’s head like a swarm of bees—painful, maddening.

Matthew... what the hell are those bastards doing? They’re trying to kill him—and then they’ll come for me next?

It hurt. His whole body was freezing cold. He had never felt this kind of cold before. His heartbeat was fading, growing lighter and lighter, until it felt like it wasn’t there at all.

Is this it? Silvanus, are you going to die?

No. You can’t. Why? Why die here? You can’t die!

At the very least, not in a filthy, gray, miserable place like this.

He didn’t want to die. He refused to die.

Just then, the wooden plank covering the entrance was kicked away.

A group of thugs stormed in, wielding heavy iron rods. The leader grabbed Matthew by the hair.

Matthew’s face was mangled and drenched in blood, so disfigured it was hard to recognize him. His breathing was shallow, his voice gone—but his eyes still clung to Silvanus. His lips moved faintly, whispering something no one could hear.

"Ha ha ha, so here’s where you were hiding."

"Hey, kid, you dared steal our job? Then die here with your friend."

One of them laughed wildly. "Crush this one’s skull first, then deal with the other."

"Come on, isn’t there anything bloodier than that? How boring, ha ha ha!"

In Silvanus’s blurred vision, the shadows on the ground twisted and flickered—like a pack of grotesque demons baring their fangs and claws.

Then one of those demons opened its gaping mouth full of jagged fangs, as if it were about to swallow both Silvanus and Matthew whole.

Monsters... filthy monsters, vile demons!

If anyone has to die, it should be them! It should be them—not me!

"Aaaaaaahhhhhh!"

"Aaaaaahhh!"

Screams echoed through the narrow alley, sharp and agonized. Passersby hurried away, terrified, and dared not come close.

Matthew stared wide-eyed at Silvanus. Despite the searing pain twisting his face, despite the blinding light that burned his eyes, he did not blink.

He had been right. He had always been right.

No one could defeat Silvanus. Silvanus would always win—always.

From that moment on, that belief took root deep in Matthew’s heart, and as time passed, it grew—grew into a towering tree.

And Silvanus—after that night of escape—never again told Matthew to leave.

Yes. They were friends.