Dragon Clan: Starting with the Azure Dragon Fruit

The principal's black Maserati was already parked at the bottom of the steps.

Lin Yuan stuffed the box into the back seat, then crouched down and sat in the passenger seat.

“You’ve really stole the show today,” Angers joked, biting his cigar.

"What did I do?" Lin Yuan asked, somewhat bewildered.

"It's just going in to buy some things. The North American mixed-race people are really well-mannered. Look at my price, everyone is very polite and doesn't fight over it."

That's the truth. Although it was his first time here, Lin Yuan always felt that good items at auctions had to go through multiple rounds of bidding and increase in price by twenty or thirty times to be considered normal.

As a result, he managed to snag several bargains at low prices, which made him quite fond of the other attendees.

The only downside is that there weren't enough dragon-related items sold, making it feel a bit anticlimactic.

Angers couldn't help but chuckle.

Lin Yuan ignored the old man's smile and went straight to the point: "Principal, what should we do with the remaining twelve million in the account?"

Angers waved his hand dismissively: "The money you saved through your own hard work is naturally yours."

Lin Yuan held the thin card in his hand, momentarily lost in thought.

The previous principal's scholarship, plus the grant approved by Professor Schneider, combined, didn't even amount to a fraction of this huge sum.

Just by sitting in the theater for a while, I achieved financial freedom.

The windfall came so suddenly that he didn't quite feel it for a moment.

"Where to next?" Lin Yuan calmed himself down and put the card away.

"First, accompany me to the estate where the banquet is being held to meet an old friend." Angers started the car and merged it onto the main road.

The Maserati drove out of the city and sped towards the outskirts of Chicago.

About half an hour later, the car slowed down and drove into a luxurious private estate.

A large, neatly trimmed lawn stretched outwards, and towering buildings loomed in the distance, making Lin Yuan feel as if he had entered a castle.

It was still early, and only a few luxury cars were parked sparsely in the open space in front of the manor.

As soon as Angers' car came to a stop, a short, hunched figure leaning on a cane was already waiting outside.

The car door opened, and the old man greeted them first:

"Welcome, old friend, it's been a long time."

Angers stepped out of the car and buttoned up his suit jacket: "Yes, it's been a long time."

"Since December 7, 1941, when our alliance negotiations at Pearl Harbor were interrupted by air raid sirens halfway through, and those damned Japanese bombers launched an air raid... it's been eighty or ninety years since that year."

"I remember now," the old man nodded with a sigh.

"During World War II, the United States declared war, which forced the suspension of our alliance negotiations."

Their shadows intersected in the twilight.

"Half a century has passed since that stop."

Chapter 91 Minor Trouble

"Let me introduce you." Angers turned around and waved to Lin Yuan.

"This is Henkel, the leader of the North American mixed-race family and the initiator of this banquet."

"When old friends meet, please don't flatter me too much. What leader? I'm just an old man with one foot in the grave." Han Gao said a lot in one breath, coughed twice. As he got older, everything he did made him feel sad.

Lin Yuan was so moved by what he saw that he wanted to go up and help him up.

Angers turned around, intending to push Lin Yuan to the forefront.

Henkel spoke first: "No need for introductions, he's the newly promoted S-class student from Kassel College. He made quite a splash at the auction not long ago, and now the entire Chicago circle is asking about his background."

Angers laughed loudly: "An S-class weapon should have the edge of an S-class weapon. If it's always hidden in its sheath, it will rust."

Henkel gave Angers a deep look: "I remember you've always been a moderate. Has the new S-class changed you so much?"

His gaze shifted from Angers' face to the silent Lin Yuan beside him, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes smoothing out: "He's a very special young man. My people have heard a bit that he's in Germany, it seems..."

"It was just a minor problem that was resolved. As an S-class officer's first field mission, he did a pretty good job." Angers clearly didn't intend to say more about the matter and interrupted him.

Henkel withdrew his gaze from Lin Yuan:

"Alright then, let the S-class meet our generation of young people. Young people always have the most to talk about."

As he spoke, he walked into the manor.

Angers and Lin Yuan followed, and after passing through a long corridor, the three of them arrived at a spacious hall.

A long table was placed in the center of the room, with thirteen chairs arranged on either side.

A young man was sitting in each chair.

Upon hearing the door open, the thirteen people stood up in unison.

They clenched their right fists and placed them against their hearts, each wearing a silver ring on their index finger.

The ring is engraved with various totems: a soaring eagle, a coiled rattlesnake, a roaring bear... representing the emblems of thirteen mixed-race families in North America.

Their movements were synchronized and solemn, giving one a sense of epic grandeur.

"These are the most outstanding young people selected by each family. I heard you were coming today, and not a single one of the thirteen families was absent," Han Gao introduced to Angers.

As the leader of the Peruvian Party and the principal of the Kassel College, he deserved such a grand ceremony.

"I thought I'd run into some familiar faces, but it's all new faces," Angers remarked.

Han Gao looked down at his withered hand: "Many of the old guys from our generation are no longer here. The rest can only lie in hospital beds, relying on machines to keep them alive."

"The concept of bloodline is actually quite tragic for us. We rarely die from illness; we can only lie in bed and slowly feel our organs failing. After all, our genes are not perfect; we are neither dragons nor humans."

He looked up at Angers, his face full of envy: "I'm so jealous of you, old friend. You're over 100 years old and you can still drive a Maserati and speed around the city, while I'm too old to hold the steering wheel by myself."

Angers smiled noncommittally. Time Zero had indeed slowed down his aging to some extent. Even though he was over 130 years old, he could still charge into the front line of dragon slaying.

Two centenarians lamented the ruthlessness of time.

The thirteen elites on either side of the long table froze. Since their elders hadn't given any instructions to sit down, they could only maintain their fists pressed against their hearts, standing stiffly in place as punishment.

Lin Yuan stood behind Angers, looking at the group of motionless young people, and found it somewhat amusing.

When you first push the door open and do this, it does have a certain epic feel to it. But holding it up for so long without putting it down makes you look like you're cosplaying as a character from Armor Hero.

"Don't stand there, everyone relax." Angers gestured casually, as if he were the master of the place.

Everyone looked at Han Gao, and when he nodded, they all withdrew their arms and sat down in unison.

The dining style here is more self-service, with food arranged on the tables on both sides, including caviar, lobster, and roast suckling pig, which are prepared in a very generous manner.

Lin Yuan came for the food, so he didn't need any reminders from Angers and was completely at ease.

I walked to the food counter, picked up the tongs, and started piling meat onto the plate.

Han Gao sat in the main seat, raised the wine glass that the butler had just handed him, and toasted Anger from afar: "I forgot to congratulate you while I was out, you've found a good successor."

Angers nodded slightly, picked up his glass, and took a sip.

"Well then, old friend, so many years have passed." Henkel finally got to the point.

"You're finally willing to meet with me again, does that mean we can continue discussing the treaty we didn't finish at Pearl Harbor?"

“Times have changed.” Angers put down his wine glass and smiled as he looked at Lin Yuan across the table.

"Why not let the young people give it a try? We two old guys have probably long forgotten what we argued about at the negotiating table back then. The future world will ultimately be handed over to them."

Lin Yuan was struggling with a lobster claw when he suddenly heard Angers say that he should go and negotiate.

I suddenly felt a bit confused. Wasn't I here to eat at the banquet? I wasn't told about this part before I came.

He's only a freshman in college. How could he possibly be involved in the alliance negotiations between the Secret Party and the North American mixed-race families?

Lin Yuan's dazed look was noticed by the elites across the long table.

The young men exchanged glances silently, a hint of hidden contempt flashing in their eyes.

In their eyes, this guy who was only focused on eating was completely devoid of any guile.

Upon hearing that he would participate in the negotiations, he looked flustered and naive, as if he had never seen the world before. Angers actually let such a politically clueless greenhorn represent the Peruvian party.

This is undoubtedly an opportunity for North American families to take the initiative.

Henkel silently swirled the wine in his glass, tacitly agreeing to hand over the negotiations to the younger generation.

On either side of the long table, a blond, blue-eyed young man straightened the hem of his suit jacket and stood up.

He didn't look at Lin Yuan immediately, but walked towards the main seat. He bowed slightly a few steps away from Angers, showing great courtesy: "Respected Principal Angers, I am Charles, representing the North American mixed-race family, to extend my sincere greetings to you."

He deliberately raised his voice so that Lin Yuan, who was dealing with the lobsters nearby, could clearly hear his name.

After receiving Angers' approval, Charles came to Lin Yuan's side and thoughtfully poured him a glass of soda water, placing it beside him.

“Mr. Lin Yuan, I have long admired your name,” he said in fluent Chinese, his tone gentle.

"Whether it was the haul from the Sotheby's auction, or even earlier... the defeat of Conrad of the Sackler family, I have great admiration for them."

Lin Yuan was somewhat surprised by his attitude and fluent Chinese, and turned his head to look at him with some surprise.

Charles noticed the brief eye contact and assumed that his opening remarks had caught his attention.

He did not sit down next to Lin Yuan, but instead began to pace around Lin Yuan.

"The Secret Society has always been the sharpest blade against the dragons, and you are undoubtedly the tip of that blade. But a war that sweeps the world is not just about the fighting on the front lines."

He turned around while keeping an eye on Lin Yuan in the chair out of the corner of his eye.

Standing and looking down, combined with the surrounding view, can create an invisible sense of oppression in the space. This is a psychological game that has been repeatedly proven effective at the negotiating table on Wall Street. As long as the opponent looks up at you, the initiative in the negotiation will change hands.

"The Dragon Kings will soon awaken one after another, and the world will be reshaped. While the Secret Party charges into battle, our North American mixed-race families can be your solid support." Charles's voice was full of inflammatory rhetoric.

"A war fund worth tens of billions, cutting-edge military production lines, and the privilege of bribing political figures from all sides. As long as we form an alliance, the Secret Party can unleash its violence to its heart's content, and the post-war world order will be jointly determined by us. As a representative of the Secret Party, you will naturally obtain commensurate wealth and power. What do you think of this win-win situation?" He slightly opened his arms, as if embracing invisible power and benefits.

He described the millennia-long war of slaying dragons as a proxy war that could be won easily.

The North American mixed-race family invests in the project, while the Secret Party is responsible for the bloodshed and sacrifice. After defeating the ancient god who sits on the throne, everyone will change into clean suits and elegantly divide the entire planet around a round table.

Charles maintained a polite smile, waiting for Lin Yuan to show an expression of flattery under his blueprint. After all, he was just a freshman, and what did it matter if he was an S-class? How could he not be tempted by his plan to divide up the entire world?

To everyone's surprise, Lin Yuan simply raised the fork in his hand and pointed to the top of his head.

"Dude, you're walking around so much that you're blocking the light. I can't even tell if the oysters are fresh or not."

Charles was taken aback by Lin Yuan's seemingly unrelated remark, and his expression became somewhat subtle.

Lin Yuan looked at him with a half-smile: "Have you ever seen a dragon?"

Charles was speechless for a moment. He had seen Deadpool in the basement of the family manor, but true pure-blooded dragons only existed in archives and nightmares.

"You haven't even seen what your enemy looks like, yet you dare to presume about the power vacuum left behind after the dragons disappeared? Are you out of your mind?"

The merciless mockery left Charles humiliated, and he finally dropped the pretense of a smile:

"Mr. Lin Yuan, slaying dragons is not a street brawl. It's not a personal matter..."

Before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

A waiter approached Han Gao in a flustered manner and handed him a document that he had just received.

Han Gao frowned, somewhat displeased with the waiter's lapse in behavior. He took out his reading glasses from his breast pocket and looked at the documents in front of him.

It's just a brief report.

Lin Yuan, an S-class freshman at Kassel College, killed a resurrected third-generation species in Germany.

The rumors are true!

Charles, oblivious to Henkel's unusual behavior, said, "...Individual bravery is insufficient..."

"Shut up, Charles!"

Henkel interrupted him.

Charles stood frozen in place, while the remaining twelve young men stared in astonishment at their godfather.

Henkel took off his glasses and looked at Angers sitting opposite him, his voice trembling slightly:

"Old friend, your S-rank single-handedly dealt with a third-generation species. Is this what you call solving 'minor troubles'?"