Dragon Clan: Starting with the Azure Dragon Fruit

Miranda's first rule of survival: Never be a striker when the situation is unclear.

Those reckless brutes who are all brawn and no brains and who like to charge head-on because of their superior bloodline often don't even get to graduate in their senior year.

She had a clear understanding of her own worth. As someone whose bloodline rating barely reached "C" and was at the very bottom of the class, in the entire Kassel College, the only person below her in the hierarchy of contempt was probably that perpetual repeater, the good-for-nothing Fingel.

Despite her mixed-race heritage and the physical and reflex speed she was so proud of, she was only slightly better than the retired Navy SEALs in the school's administrative department.

As for her incantation "Yin Lei".

If it were a well-prepared positional battle, with ample time to set up, Miranda was confident she could blow the entire factory, along with the rats inside, to smithereens. But in an encounter battle, especially against a half-blood who could go berserk at any moment, her Word of Power, which required time to compress the air, would be less effective than a loud fart.

Rushing in to fight head-on isn't brave; it's just making the enemy an easy target.

The best approach is to honestly lie low and conduct reconnaissance first.

To see the details inside the factory, she kept turning the focus knob with her index finger. The extremely high magnification made the field of view in the lens very narrow.

Miranda could only patiently maneuver the crosshair inch by inch through the abandoned factory.

The factory was unusually quiet. Normally, a mixed-race individual on the verge of going out of control would be accompanied by widespread destruction.

But in Miranda's lens, there was an eerie silence everywhere, and just as she began to wonder if Norma had gotten the location wrong.

Suddenly, a person, or rather a corpse, appeared in the shot.

The young boy was wearing a high school uniform. There was a large hole in his chest, and the blood had stopped flowing out. He looked like he had been dead for a while.

His face still bore the lingering terror of his death.

Miranda's breath hitched; she was still too late.

A living, breathing person. Just a few hours ago, they might have been thinking about tomorrow's breakfast, the girl they had a crush on, or the game they were planning to play this weekend.

She died right there in this godforsaken place, becoming a cold, lifeless "accidental death" in her mission briefing.

A bowl of local snacks, extra spicy and numbing, claimed a young life. If she had arrived half an hour earlier, perhaps everything would have been different.

She took a deep breath of cold air, shutting off the self-reproach that was rising in her mind, and a fierce look appeared in her eyes.

It seems that the half-blood has most likely fallen into becoming Deadpool, his humanity consumed by his bloodlust.

She's already messed up her mission; things have come to this point, and achieving a perfect ending is impossible.

Even if it meant serious injury, she was determined to sneak in and kill that out-of-control hybrid right here. To prevent more victims, and to save that young corpse on the ground that shouldn't be there.

Filled with surging murderous intent, she slightly shifted the camera to check if the out-of-control hybrid was still there.

Soon, a huge dark shadow squeezed into her field of vision.

Just as she had predicted, Xiong Yi had degenerated into a Deadpool, his thick limbs covered with dense, bluish-gray scales, making him look extremely ferocious.

Miranda held her breath, her muscles tensing instantly, already imagining the feeling of those claws coming at her during the battle.

However, there was a minor problem. The terrifying Deadpool, who should have been wreaking havoc in the factory, was now lying in a pool of blood like a lump of mud, his neck twisted at a horrifying angle, his head completely bent over.

Their fate appears to be unknown.

She stood frozen in the damp grass, blinked unconsciously, and then placed her finger on the telescope's focus wheel, pushing the focus forward a bit to try and confirm if she was seeing things.

In the magnified image, you can even see bone fragments piercing the flesh on the monster's crooked neck.

Miranda instinctively shook her head, as if trying to shake the water out of her brain.

What are you thinking? Your neck is twisted like that, your cervical vertebrae are sticking out. Even with Deadpool's vitality, you're definitely dead beyond dead.

After confirming this, the adrenaline that had just surged to the top of her head suddenly felt like a punch hitting cotton, leaving her with nowhere to vent, almost making her faint on the spot.

What's going on? I even had my dying words in my head, but the villain killed me first?

Could it be that the local mixed-race family made the move? Impossible. Those conservative old fogies always value secrecy and are meticulous in their work. They would never leave such a bloody and chaotic scene.

Or perhaps the fat man had a change of heart after killing someone, felt overwhelmed with guilt, and broke his own neck?

Miranda laughed in exasperation at the absurd thoughts that had popped into her head. What was wrong with her? One ridiculous idea after another.

She furrowed her beautiful brows and unconsciously shifted the camera position, passing through a patch of shadow.

A highly recognizable Eastern face suddenly came into view.

Even through binoculars, his face was still strikingly handsome. Especially his eyes, cold and aloof, as if they shielded him from the surrounding bloodshed and death.

"Hey, so handsome."

Miranda instinctively uttered a sigh, then frowned. No, no, this isn't the time to admire handsome men.

Moreover, this is a desolate wilderness, a crime scene where someone has died, and for a handsome guy who could be cast in a movie to suddenly appear out of nowhere is just unsettling.

Something was definitely amiss. Miranda became alert and began to scrutinize the face in the camera lens.

The more I look at it, the more familiar it seems.

As if remembering something, she remained prone, took out her phone with one hand, and glanced at the photo on the screen.

Found him! Isn't this Chu Zihang, another target of my internship?

Could it be that he dealt with this mutated fat man? Logically, it makes perfect sense that a genius whom Professor Schneider personally ordered to recruit would awaken his bloodline and kill the servant at the critical moment of life and death.

But after examining it closely for a while, she immediately overturned this conclusion.

If it was indeed Chu Zihang who made the move, it wouldn't have been easy. No matter how strong his bloodline was, he still lacked combat experience. Even if he defeated Deadpool, he would still be somewhat embarrassed.

Someone else was killing the monster.

Miranda pondered, noticing that Chu Zihang's gaze was fixed on a certain direction. A thought struck her, and she slowly moved the binoculars in the direction of Chu Zihang's gaze.

The scene showed a boy wearing a Shilan Middle School uniform, half of his body covered in thick, black blood, looking exactly like a serial killer from a horror movie.

Miranda realized that this must be another victim who had been tricked into coming tonight, according to the intelligence.

Judging from his menacing appearance, could it be... that he killed Deadpool?

Is he also of mixed race?

All the clues connected in Miranda's mind, and she couldn't help but gasp. No wonder it's an ancient Eastern power; the dragon content is ridiculously high. This Deadpool could casually meet up with two classmates and still run into one of his own kind.

Furthermore, he is a hybrid who can kill a Samurai in a single battle right after awakening. With this bloodline rating, he is guaranteed to be at least a B grade, and may even be rated as an A grade!

Miranda's eyes lit up. Although he had messed up the previous mission, the opportunity to make amends was right in front of him! If he could recruit such a genius into Kassel College, it would definitely be a way to make amends.

At this moment, the blood-covered boy in the camera lens has transformed in her eyes into glittering academic credits and a first-class ticket to Hawaii's white sand beaches.

Just as Miranda was pondering how to begin, the boy in the shot seemed to sense something and turned his head slightly.

Through the thick darkness of the night, the boy's gaze precisely met hers through the binoculars, as if he were staring back at her.

The moment their eyes met, Miranda's brain went blank.

The howling mountain winds and dilapidated factory buildings of the real world were instantly stripped away. The narrow field of vision of the telescope suddenly distorted, and she found herself falling into a chaotic void filled with lightning and thunder.

Above them were thick, leaden, pitch-black thunderclouds, and amidst the deafening gale, a gigantic, suffocatingly large body was slowly moving through the clouds.

It resembles a mountain range, or perhaps a giant dragon.

A colossal azure dragon beyond imagination, a majestic mountain range composed of countless dark blue-black steel scales.

The dragon's undulating body appeared and disappeared in the clouds, its iron-like scales layered upon each other, gleaming with a cold metallic luster. Its enormous horns seemed capable of piercing the sky, and its thick whiskers danced wildly in the storm.

This ancient behemoth coiled high in the sky, slowly lowering its mountain-like head.

As the clouds parted, she saw a pair of ancient, majestic, and brilliantly golden eyes, as bright as molten lava. Within those narrow, vertical pupils, it seemed as if storms and thunder were sealed away.

Those are the eyes of ancient kings, found only on the oldest bronze artifacts or totems.

The next second, the illusion, like a mirror, cracked and shattered. The cold wind of reality rushed back into my lungs.

Miranda then realized that her shirt was already soaked with cold sweat.

Chapter 8 Is the whole world speaking Chinese?

Chu Zihang stood quietly in place, looking at Lin Yuan.

The other person started to say "I'm sorry..." but then swallowed the rest of their sentence. They then turned their gaze to the dark night sky outside.

Watching this scene, Chu Zihang found a reasonable explanation for the silence: the traumatic stress of facing a life-or-death crisis.

The student in front of me was covered in blood and was clearly in this state.

After a moment's thought, Chu Zihang looked into the other person's golden eyes and thought of a way that might put the other person at ease.

After taking a deep breath, he deliberately softened his usual cold and hard tone and looked directly into Lin Yuan's eyes, saying, "Don't be nervous. Actually, you and I are the same kind of people."

As he finished speaking, he lowered his eyes slightly.

A few seconds later, he opened his eyes again.

A pair of dazzling golden eyes, silently radiating a majestic light.

Seeing Chu Zihang's eyes suddenly transform into those familiar golden pupils, Lin Yuan's muscles tensed instantly.

His combat instincts, honed on the high seas, reacted before his brain could process them. He stepped back with his right foot, his toes precisely touching the wooden handle of the fire axe on the ground. With just a gentle flick, he could take it from his hand.

But just before he was about to exert his strength, he stopped the movement.

According to his Observation Haki, although Chu Zihang in front of him had revealed a pair of inhuman golden eyes and his pulse was much stronger than that of an ordinary person, his emotional fluctuations remained stable.

There was no frenzied killing intent, no bloodthirsty desire.

It even stood quietly in place, exuding an aura of coldness and restraint that kept strangers at bay. It was a completely different species from the monster that had just been tearing apart flesh.

Lin Yuan touched the dried scab on his chin, a question forming in his mind. Could this unknown zombie virus be divided into "berserk" and "rational" types? Could one perfectly control this inhuman power simply by passing a certain critical point?

Just as he was pondering this, the faint, elusive aura of surveillance he had sensed earlier was rapidly moving toward the factory, reaching the edge of his Observation Haki perception.

The footsteps were somewhat disordered, some deep and some shallow, but no murderous intent could be detected.

Lin Yuan withdrew his gaze from Chu Zihang and interrupted him decisively:

"Someone else is here. How about we wait until they arrive before we talk?"

Chu Zihang paused for a moment, then listened intently to the sounds outside. Apart from the chirping of summer insects in the distance, there were no other sounds.

But when he turned to look at Lin Yuan's confident expression, he swallowed the question that was on the tip of his tongue and took a half step back in tacit agreement.

Chu Zihang chose to believe him.

The factory fell silent. After about half a minute, footsteps approached from afar and reached the door.

A figure cautiously walked in.

With striking blonde hair and a designer trench coat that seemed out of place in this desolate wilderness, her black shirt, soaked with sweat and clinging to her body, accentuated her already voluptuous figure, making it even more visually striking.

That face was unbelievably beautiful, with deep-set eyes and a straight nose, making him seem to radiate a soft glow even in the dimly lit factory.

Lin Yuan was completely stunned.

Of course, this wasn't because he had never seen a woman before, nor was it due to some kind of adolescent hormone surge that made him lose his mind.

It was purely because the "aesthetic trauma" he had suffered during those years at sea was too severe.

Female pirates with even a little reputation are either three to five meters tall and as strong as a small mountain, capable of smashing a ship with a single slap; or as they age, their appearance rapidly deteriorates in a way that defies biological norms, making them look like an old witch from a fairy tale who brews poison.

Of all the women he could come into contact with, the only one who met Lin Yuan's aesthetic standards and had a normal figure was Xia Qi, the bar owner on Beehive Island.

Yet she was also the protagonist of a repressive era, the "world's most beautiful woman" coveted by countless heroes.

In Lin Yuan's view, a beauty of this caliber is simply a walking super trouble; anyone who gets involved with her is doomed.

He always kept his distance from this troublesome woman. Forget about having any improper thoughts; he'd rather take a detour than notice her cigarette smoke from afar on the island.

Suddenly, a stunningly beautiful foreign woman appeared, perfectly matching his aesthetic standards. Lin Yuan felt refreshed and invigorated, as if the aesthetic trauma he had suffered over the past few years had been healed.

Despite being cured, his mind remained perfectly clear. He was back home, in a desolate, abandoned factory in the middle of nowhere. How could a blonde, blue-eyed foreign woman suddenly appear?

Could it be that all of tonight's events originated from illegal biochemical experiments conducted by multinational biopharmaceutical companies?

His heart was pounding with anxiety when the blonde, mature woman stood a few steps away.

Meeting their gazes, she decisively raised both hands, palms facing outward, and gave a French military salute.

Although her movements were timid, Lin Yuan keenly noticed that the woman's thumb was slightly hooked around her index finger in her right palm. There seemed to be something in that barely perceptible gap.

Even though it seemed like a special ability, the energy posed little threat to him according to his Observation Haki, so he didn't bother to point it out.

Immediately afterwards, the blonde woman spoke fluent, standard Chinese: "Gentlemen, don't be nervous, I mean no harm."

Lin Yuan almost lost his composure.