A slender finger with well-defined knuckles blocked the tip of the blade with absolute precision, gathering all the incoming killing intent into a single point in an instant.
The tip of the knife didn't actually touch him; a microscopic distance remained between them, yet it felt like an unbridgeable chasm. Hilbert Jean Angers had a premonition: if he continued to apply force, the only thing that would shatter was his weapon.
The erupting lion smoothed its mane, becoming as quiet as a lapdog.
"Perhaps we should talk. It isn't good for a man of your age to be so prone to fits of temper, don't you think?" A hint of a smile touched the corners of Zoran's eyes.
When not provoked, a Demon Sorcerer's temperament was often remarkably pleasant.
He gave a casual flick of his finger.
The folding knife flew backward, embedding itself deep into the center console. The previously invincible Yanling domain was shattered the moment his words fell. He simply withdrew his hand with an air of breezy indifference, as if he had performed a task of no consequence.
Shendu was right; perhaps he did need a bit of a vacation, and the situation before him seemed like an excellent choice. The resurrection of the King of Earth and Mountains was imminent, but to him, the remaining time was practically an eyeblink.
"A hybrid? Or a Dragon King?" Angers was shaken to his core.
He had been left utterly defenseless. To achieve such a feat, the person before him could be none other than a Dragon King.
As if reading his mind, Zoran snapped his fingers. "Congratulations. You guessed wrong on both counts."
He said calmly: "Perhaps you should address me as... The Elder."
"The Elder..." Angers repeated the word in his mind.
His Chinese was excellent; he wouldn't misunderstand the nuance of the term. Yet, this middle-aged man had the audacity to call himself an "Elder" in front of an old man like him. This is not a human, Angers determined instantly.
But the man had denied his guess. In this world, aside from the Dragon Kings, was there any other existence that could survive the passage of eons?
"It seems you know a great deal." Angers' composure and thick skin had been refined over a century. He naturally reached out, pulled the folding knife from the console, tucked it away properly, and picked up his glass of iced wine again.
Clearly, the situation was not in his favor. That the other party was willing to talk was good news.
"Mr. Angers, our goals are aligned." Zoran withdrew his hand and crossed his arms, exuding an air of calm authority.
"The Dragon Kings?"
"Precisely. You wish to slay dragons, and I require the dragon bones. A very fair trade."
"I believe 'The Elder' has the capability, but the ownership of dragon remains is not a matter I can decide alone."
As the principal of Cassell College, a professional training ground for dragon slayers, even Angers found himself constrained by many factors when it came to the remains of Dragon Kings.
"Take me for a drive." Zoran smiled, glancing at the driver's seat. "You just drive; I'll handle the logistics."
Though the center console was damaged, the performance of the luxury car remained unaffected. Angers turned the key, and the black Maserati let out a violent, low growl. The man behind him certainly had the strength to make him his driver.
"If you can handle the Board of Trustees, I don't mind." He floored the accelerator, and the streamlined body of the car shot forward like an arrow from a bow.
In just two seconds, he pushed the speed past eighty kilometers per hour, the powerful G-force pinning him against the seat. He stole a glance at Zoran; the man's posture was as steady as a mountain. An insurmountable existence, he was certain.
The sports car tore through the streets of Chicago. Angers pushed the speed up to 160 mph, a dangerous threshold, but the patrol officers were too busy dealing with the striking workers to care.
"A vacation? Cassell College isn't exactly a prime vacation spot," Angers said, responding to the voice from the back. "The place is full of lunatics. Every one of them spends their days thinking of how to plunge a blade into a dragon's body with speed and precision. If they have to, they'll use their teeth to tear off a few scales."
"To me, it is," Zoran said plainly.
He didn't care to be on the side of justice or evil; to him, there was no difference. They were merely processes, and he only valued the result. He wasn't familiar with this world and had only found this place based on the memories of his past life. Before the King of Earth and Mountains resurrected, all he needed to do was wait quietly.
A part of his memory seemed to hold a few lingering regrets regarding this world. Zoran could no longer distinguish when those memories were from, as they were hazy, like trying to pluck the moon's reflection from a lake, but he was certain they were a part of him.
Hilbert Jean Angers, the aged speedster, pulled over by the shoreline of Lake Michigan. He naturally produced a Cohiba cigar and clipped the cap.
Lowering his eyes to his phone, he saw the report from Norma, Cassell College's AI. In an incredibly short window, she had compiled everything regarding the name and image of "The Elder." Norma's clearance and computing power were terrifying; during their drive, she had scoured global databases.
The search for a man named "The Elder," based on the name, height, build, and features provided by Angers, detailed down to a single eyelash, yielded a result of zero.
There was no information. There were a few individuals in Asia with similar names, but none matched the man before him. He had appeared out of thin air, found Angers, displayed supreme power, and the only thing he wanted was the dragon bones. The remains of those ancient biological entities.
For Angers, as long as the Dragon Kings were killed, he wouldn't hesitate to give up those remains, or even his own life. A hero falling from the sky? Or has one of those ancient Chinese families produced an extraordinary figure?
"I accept your terms," he said.
Zoran nodded slightly. It was the expected outcome.
This world was a battlefield where hybrids, those inheriting dragon blood, fought against the resurrected Dragon Kings, the ancient rulers. That was the root of all conflict. The Dragon Kings held portions of this world's Authority; Angers wanted them dead, and Zoran wanted the bones. Their goals were perfectly aligned.
The cigar smoke rose slowly, blurring the old man's face. Zoran looked out at the calm surface of the lake and suddenly asked, "Angers, have you ever seen a dragon?"
The question made Angers hesitate for a moment. He taught Introduction to Draconic Genealogy at the college and was an unquestioned professional in dragon slaying. Asking him if he had seen a dragon was as absurd as asking that pathetic kid Lu Mingfei if he had ever had a crush on a girl.
"I mean... a real dragon," Zoran clarified.
"In my experience, there is no concept of a 'pseudo-dragon' in this world," Angers said, supressing his confusion.
Zoran's lips curled upward as a figure surfaced in his mind.
"You will see one. A true dragon, far beyond anything those inferior reptiles can compare to," he said.
…
Original World, Asia.
Shendu suddenly opened his eyes, glancing down at Jackie Chan, who was currently giving him a pedicure.
Someone was thinking about him.
My brother, perhaps?
————
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