After obtaining the powerful Divine Item, Drunken Dream's weaponization reached 31%, just enough to cross the threshold between the game and reality.
"Big bro, I was wrong, really!"
Max clung to Drunken Dream's leg, sobbing and begging for mercy.
Drunken Dream's face remained blank.
Suddenly, Max pointed at Eliza and their mother and screamed,
"It was Eliza! Kieran! And the others! They were the ones who swapped out your asthma meds with poison!"
"They're the reason you became a cripple! I just went with the flow! I can't be blamed for that!"
Orson arched an eyebrow.
Now this is entertainment.
Family infighting in aristocratic clans—always more dramatic than TV dramas.
"I know. I was blind, not stupid."
Drunken Dream's response shocked everyone—even Orson raised an eyebrow.
It was a subtle revelation that Yuri had always known.
He had endured for twenty years, choosing silence for the sake of the family's image.
He'd already lost his sight.
If the Upton Family turned on itself, it would collapse.
He'd chosen to be the scapegoat. The weak one. The cripple no one saw as a threat.
But now?
Yuri and the Upton Family's old leadership were both gone.
A new ruler would rise.
Shing—
The silver dragon lance swept forward. Its radiant light washed over the room like a spring breeze.
Then—blood sprayed across Yuri's face.
The ones who had betrayed him, who had killed his butler and household staff,
were cut down on the spot.
Waist-severing strikes. Instant death.
"I was wrong! I'll be your dog, big bro! I swear I'll serve you forever!"
Kieran dropped to his knees, pressing his face to the floor, unable to look at the radiant being before him.
"The Upton Family's rules have always been clear—eldest son inherits! Anyone got a problem with that? You'll end up like Max!"
"This is true! It was the old patriarch's wish! Yuri will be the sixth generation head of the Upton Family!"
"The Upton Family shall rise again! As a senior and the Supreme Guild's vice president, I decree: anyone who dares covet the family's assets shall die!"
The elders of the Upton Family were lightning-fast in switching sides.
The display was so shameless that Orson burst into laughter.
Some things never change.
Whether in Infinite Dimensions or the real world—
power and ruthlessness bring praise from every direction.
"Orgod… you! This is all your doing!"
Eliza turned and glared at Orson, eyes brimming with hate.
"Me? I didn't do anything. I'm just a spectator," Orson replied calmly.
"I always knew my brother wasn't ordinary… This is fate,"
Eliza whispered, her tone turning sinister.
"Why not kill Orgod right now? Then the entire US—no, the world of Infinite Dimensions—will belong to the Upton Family."
That set off alarm bells.
Isaiah and his men immediately raised their guns, aiming at Drunken Dream.
A second person who could channel the game into reality…
If he lost control, the consequences would be catastrophic.
But Drunken Dream remained calm, and Orson didn't even flinch.
"My ride and disciple," he thought. "Not something a bunch of schemers can manipulate."
"Eliza… treacherous to the end. You must die."
Drunken Dream's eyes glowed with holy light, his will now forged in steel.
If the butler and staff had survived, maybe Eliza could've been spared.
But now? She'd stepped on the inverse scale of the Silver Dragon Knight.
All who took part would die.
Blank glanced at Drunken Dream, a hint of admiration flashing in her eyes.
Then she looked back at Orson with a strange, conflicted expression.
As if to say, Why not you?
"What're you looking at me for? I'm not a god,"
Orson muttered, shrugging.
Her stare was weird. Not exactly flirty—but definitely… something.
Previously, she'd looked at him like she wanted him run over by a bus.
Now? Hard to read. Definitely sus.
"With your blood… I'll honor the true ancestors of the Upton Family!"
Drunken Dream's voice boomed as holy light erupted.
Winds howled through the estate, dark clouds swirling above.
Blank immediately pulled Isaiah and the others out.
"I'll haunt you forever—curse you both to die horribly!"
Eliza collapsed, screaming.
"Ghosts? Low-tier undead, at best," Orson snorted.
Crash!
Drunken Dream hurled the dragon lance.
It pinned Eliza to the wall—dead on impact.
Death descended.
Those who had directly conspired against him—
not one was spared.
Out of over twenty Upton Family elites, fewer than half remained.
Orson nodded with approval.
Yuri hadn't let rage blind him completely.
Many of the surviving elders held stakes in the family's industries. Killing them now would cause chaos.
Instead, he'd taken the seat of power and would reclaim everything piece by piece.
Soon, the Bruce Family's "cleaners" swept the scene.
The remaining Uptons were herded into an adjacent room.
The holy light faded.
Drunken Dream sat atop the Upton Family throne.
"Back to Infinite Dimensions.
As Supreme Guild vice president—my third uncle—
please initiate the vote to remove the current guild leader."
In Infinite Dimensions, guild rules allowed a VP to initiate a no-confidence vote.
If over 90% of members agreed, the guild master would be ousted and replaced via election.
"Who's in favor? Who's against?"
Gone was the youthful softness—his face now held a king's gravitas.
"Of course we're in favor! Who'd dare oppose?!"
"The Upton Family won't keep walking the wrong path. Yuri, you didn't disappoint!"
The remaining elites fell over themselves to support him.
Drunken Dream didn't smile.
He wasn't here for empty flattery.
Now he understood why Orson had always been so ruthless.
It wasn't cruelty—it was necessity.
Only overwhelming force could keep monsters at bay.
"Authoritative and democratic—now that's kingly energy," Orson nodded approvingly.
Blank rolled her eyes.
"Democracy? Please. You're just really good at teaching people how to be sneaky."
"What do you mean sneaky? It's called accelerated development! It's divine guidance!"
"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. Just so you know—K.D's under a ton of pressure because of you. Maybe tone it down a bit?"
Blank sighed.
The Captain's recklessness had every US power faction on edge.
"Pressure's fine. As long as he holds up, we're good. Let's go—drive me back."
Orson waved her off and strolled toward a military Humvee.
"You want me to drive? What, you think your face is special or something?"
Blank crossed her arms, annoyed.
"…Is it big?"
Orson blinked, feeling his cheeks. He wasn't that thin, was he?
Blank huffed and crossed her arms again.
"We're helping you because we have a mutual goal.
Don't treat us like servants. We don't owe you anything."
Orson blushed and scratched his head.
"…You seriously haven't figured it out? I don't have a driver's license."
Blank froze, then burst into laughter.
"Oh my god—you're serious?"
"Dead serious."
"Well excuse me, Great Archmage. I guess even you aren't omniscient.
My bad. My bad."
"Idiot…"
Orson's ears turned bright red.
For a hardcore gamer, a license was… not a priority.
"Don't say another word. I'm warning you—I might explode."
"Aye aye, Your Grace! Want me to enroll you in a military driving course? A-tier license, guaranteed!"
"…Get lost."
On the drive back, Blank couldn't stop teasing him.
The cold-blooded assassin had become a total chatterbox—and it was driving him nuts.