radicalducati Chapter 28: Calming Down
Chapter 28: Calming Down
The roar of fighter jet engines shattered the silence of dawn, repeatedly sweeping across the sky, carrying out confirmation and reconnaissance missions. Data links transmitted back in real time, finally confirming: the energy reaction in the river had subsided, and Dragon King Norton's vital signs had completely disappeared.
Several specially painted helicopters then circled over, one of which lowered its altitude and slowly approached the lone figure in the middle of the river.
Inside the cabin, Liang Yan, the director of the Anomaly Affairs Office, received clear yet cautious instructions through his earpiece: "Based on the enemy's performance throughout the battle, especially their actions in protecting the city from the impact of 'Word of Power,' it can be basically determined that they have no malicious intent towards human society, and may even have a considerable degree of protectiveness towards it. There is a high probability that they are our personnel. Attempt to establish initial contact, and be sure to be sincere and respectful."
"Understood." Liang Yan replied in a deep voice, suppressing the shock in his heart, his expression solemn. Today's battle was nothing short of a resounding wake-up call. In the past, the internal strategy towards hybrids and ancient families was mainly observation and restriction. As long as they did not openly trample on the law or endanger social stability, they were given a considerable degree of autonomy. After all, in the face of modern weapons and tight organizations, the threat of individual superhumans had been assessed as being within a controllable range.
However, the scale of the battle just now—the splitting of the river and slaying of the dragon, the manipulation of celestial phenomena—completely overturned this understanding. The destructive power displayed by either side was enough to wipe a modern metropolis off the map in a short time. This level of power can no longer be summarized as "special humans" and must be re-examined and incorporated into the highest-level strategic assessment and control system.
"Director, the directional amplification equipment is ready," Fang Du, the assistant beside him, reported in a low voice, handing over a specially made microphone.
Liang Yan took a deep breath, connected the device, and his steady and clear voice traveled through the directional sound waves to the direction of the blue and white figure in the middle of the river below:
"Your Excellency, hello. I am Liang Yan, Director of the Domestic Office for Abnormal Affairs. We witnessed everything that just happened and are deeply grateful for your actions in protecting the city and preventing massive casualties. We hope to establish a dialogue with you; would that be convenient..."
Before he could finish speaking...
Jiangxin's figure, standing quietly, turned its head slightly and glanced in the direction of the helicopter.
His gaze was calm and unwavering, showing neither displeasure at being disturbed nor any intention to communicate.
Then, under the watchful eyes of Liang Yan and everyone on board, the figure vanished silently, like a reflection in water scattered by a gentle breeze, as if it had never truly existed there at all.
Liang Yan's voice came through his earpiece again, carrying a hint of understanding and decisiveness: "Since the other party has no intention of contacting us for the time being, there's no need to force it. Just maintain the highest level of monitoring. The most urgent task is to deal with the subsequent impact."
His voice paused, then turned serious: "As for Kassel College... go and negotiate, give them a proper warning. Make them understand that this is not international waters where they can run rampant just because they're under the guise of 'Dragon Slayer.' It's outrageous that even disguised warships could sail into inland waterways! Take this opportunity to find out what role they played in this incident, and how much they know."
"I understand." Liang Yan looked down at the conspicuous Moniach on the river below, his eyes slightly cold. "I will 'invite' them to stay here for a few days to cooperate with us in conducting the necessary 'situation briefing' and 'safety assessment'."
In fact, Kassel College had already notified the Abnormal Affairs Office through the Zhou family about this operation in the Three Gorges area beforehand. Liang Yan himself was also personally stationed nearby to oversee the entire process. Without tacit approval, even if Kassel had extraordinary connections, how could they have so easily sailed a "merchant ship" that had undergone military modifications into the core area of this waterway? But tacit approval does not mean abandonment, much less that sovereignty can be blurred.
The Moniach, lower deck, lavatory.
Zhou Yi's figure quietly appeared. His face was even paler, and his breathing was noticeably weak, signs of excessive consumption of magical power. He reached out and pressed the flush button, and the water gushed out.
He canceled the conspicuous blue and white ancient costume illusion he was wearing and looked at himself in the mirror—hmm, pale face, tired look in his eyes, very good, he didn't even need to pretend.
It would be perfectly reasonable to say that you had diarrhea to the point of exhaustion.
He straightened his ordinary Kassel school uniform and went out the door.
Then, their steps came to a halt.
Chen Motong was leaning against the opposite bulkhead with her arms crossed, seemingly having been waiting for some time. Her gaze first fell on his face, paused for a moment, and then slowly moved down, scrutinizing his school uniform, which was exactly the same as when he left.
"Tsk..." She made a soft, ambiguous click of her tongue, straightened up, and stared directly at Zhou Yi with her red eyes. "The whole time in the bathroom?"
Zhou Yi's expression remained unchanged as he walked straight outside, his tone calm yet tinged with just the right amount of helplessness: "I already said I have an upset stomach. If I'm not in the bathroom, am I supposed to go to the deck to get some fresh air?"
"Hmph." Chen Motong didn't press the matter, but simply followed behind him, her soft hum containing too many unspoken implications.
When the two returned to the upper main cabin, the atmosphere remained heavy and silent. Most people's attention was still drawn to the approaching official helicopters outside the window, as well as the post-war scenes on the river and in the air, immersed in the enormous shock and subsequent anxieties, and they did not pay much attention to Zhou Yi, who had just returned.
It wasn't until Principal Angers' clear, slightly hurried voice came through the ship's communication system, urging them to complete the necessary procedures as soon as possible and return to port, that Professor Mans snapped out of his daze and began directing the ship toward the nearest, empty dock.
Just then, the roar of helicopter rotors filled the air overhead. A helicopter slowly landed on the open ground of the dock, and the cabin door opened.
The first to leap down was a tall, imposing man carrying a sheathed heavy sword; his movements were swift and agile. Immediately afterward, he turned and carefully carried a girl who appeared to be extremely young, no more than thirteen or fourteen years old, off the plane. The girl had black hair and an exquisitely beautiful face. She lay lazily on the back of the stern-faced man, curiously observing her surroundings.
Subsequently, Liang Yan and Fang Du also disembarked from the helicopter.
Fang Du quickly stepped forward and politely introduced Professor Mans, who came to greet him: "Professor Mans, hello. This is Director Liang Yan from our Office of Abnormal Affairs."
"Director Liang, it's an honor to meet you." Mans extended his hand, his expression one of diplomatic caution. He was well aware of the organization's power, but this was his first time meeting the person in charge.
"Professor Mans, it's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for your school's... proactive involvement in this unusual incident." Liang Yan shook hands, his tone calm, but he emphasized the words "proactive involvement," carrying a businesslike distance. "There are some follow-up matters that we need to discuss with you."
Just as the two leaders began their initial negotiations, on the other side, Nuwa, who was being carried on Bai Shanglu's back, was scanning the group of students in Kassel. Finally, her gaze landed on a pale and slightly tired figure at the back of the group.
"Hmm?" She tilted her head slightly, a hint of doubt and uncertainty flashing in her golden vertical pupils.
"Little Lu, move closer." She gently tapped Bai Shanglu's head with her finger.
Bai Shanglu was clearly taken aback for a moment, but still took a few steps toward the direction where the students in Kassel were gathered, as instructed.
Their actions immediately aroused alarm. Caesar and Chu Zihang stepped forward almost simultaneously, blocking the way for the group and forming an invisible barrier, protecting the seemingly unwell Susie, the listless Lu Mingfei, the silent Zero, and the equally pale Zhou Yi and Chen Motong behind them.
"What can I do for you?" Caesar asked coldly, his azure eyes fixed on Bai Shanglu and the girl on his back who seemed to be in charge. Chu Zihang remained silent, but his golden eyes had already lit up slightly, his body poised for battle at any moment.
The commotion attracted the attention of Liang Yan and Mans, who were talking. Liang Yan frowned slightly, while Mans raised his hand to signal the students to calm down.
Bai Shanglu stopped somewhat awkwardly. Nuwa on his back, however, didn't seem to care at all. Instead, she stretched her neck to try and see more clearly, her gaze fixed on Zhou Yi's face through the gap in the crowd.
"Zhou Yi?" she called tentatively, her voice clear and crisp, carrying a youthful quality. "Are you named Zhou Yi?"
Everyone was taken aback, and their eyes all turned to Zhou Yi, who had been called out.
Even Caesar and Chu Zihang couldn't help but glance at them, their eyes clearly asking: Do you know each other?
Zhou Yi frowned, meeting the snake-tailed girl's golden, vertical pupils, scrutinizing her for a moment, but finding no recollection of her. His tone was cold: "Who are you?"
Nuwa suddenly broke into a bright smile. That smile... Zhou Yi felt it looked somewhat familiar, much like Chen Motong's expression when he was plotting a prank or preparing to tease someone, with a hint of cunning and mischief.
"Me?" Nuwa smiled, her eyes crinkling, pointed to herself, and then, in a tone as if announcing major news, clearly stated:
"I'm your aunt, your nephew!"
The surroundings fell silent for a moment; you could hear a pin drop.
"..." Zhou Yi was silent for two seconds, then uttered a single word expressionlessly: "Get lost."
He grew up in a single-parent family and took his mother's surname. His mother's side of the family was small, and he had never heard of any relatives, let alone a "little aunt" who looked like a junior high school student.
"Don't believe me?" Nuwa seemed to have expected this, and instead of being angry, she became even more interested. She skillfully pulled out a brand-new smartphone from her bosom, swiped her fingers a few times, and dialed a number.
After a few rings, the call was answered.
A woman's voice, clearly heavy with sleep and not fully awake, came from across the room, asking indistinctly, "Feed...?"
Although the voice was a few steps away and somewhat distorted, Zhou Yi's body stiffened almost imperceptibly—he was all too familiar with that voice.
"Hello, sis, it's me." Nuwa's voice immediately became obedient yet carried a hint of coquettish complaining as she spoke into the phone, "I ran into your son, my nephew Zhou Yi! He wouldn't believe I was his aunt and yelled at me! Fine, fine, I'll give him the phone, you can talk to him yourself..."
As she spoke, she chuckled and handed the phone towards Zhou Yi: "Come here, nephew, your mother wants you to answer the phone."
Zhou Yi's face remained expressionless, but a fleeting glint of emotion flashed deep within his eyes. He glanced at the phone being handed to him, then at Nuwa's face, which seemed to scream "answer quickly!", and finally stepped forward, taking the call under the complex gazes of the crowd.
He walked to the side, his back to everyone, and whispered a few words into the microphone. His speech was rapid and the content was unclear. A moment later, he hung up the phone, walked back, and handed the phone back to Nuwa. His face remained expressionless, but his brows seemed to be furrowed even more.
Nuwa took the phone, her smile widening with smugness. She waved the phone around: "Well, nephew, do you believe me now? Come on, call your auntie over here?"
"Do you need something?" Zhou Yi was too lazy to pay attention to this brat who suddenly appeared and tried to establish a connection, so he skipped over the issue of address.
"What... what's going on? Why are they suddenly recognizing each other as relatives?" Lu Mingfei muttered quietly behind the crowd, his face full of disbelief.
Chen Motong also looked bewildered and shook her head: "Maybe it was just a coincidence... The world is sometimes really small."
In fact, the surnames of the Kassel students present at this moment are linked to the genealogies of once-illustrious yet now weathered mixed-race families of this land. Decades ago, during the upheaval that swept everything, several families disintegrated one after another, either due to their adherence to their ideals or due to external forces: the Zhou, Lu, and Chu families had paid a heavy price of near extermination for their beliefs in this land, suffering severe damage and their lineage was in jeopardy. To this day, only the Zhou family has managed to recover some vitality through luck; the Lu and Chu families lost their ancestral halls and their bloodlines were scattered; one branch of the Su family crossed the ocean but suffered a devastating disaster, a truly regrettable situation; as for the Chen family, their choice back then was nailed to the pillar of shame for betrayal, and they went to Southeast Asia, severing ties with their homeland.
Liang Yan, the director of the anomaly office, took in the somewhat absurd scene of family reunion before him, his gaze calm and thoughtful. In fact, before the launch of this "Bronze Project," background information on these core students from Kassel, especially those who grew up in China, was already on his desk. Their names, their upbringing, their possible connections to those lost families… Liang Yan had a clear mental record. But compared to Zhou Yi, they were more concerned with Chu Zihang, the president of the Kassel Lionheart Society, and Lu Mingfei, an S-level student.
The follow-up actions that day were swift and efficient. Liang Yan, citing "cooperation with the investigation of the unusual event and security assessment," explicitly requested the Kassel team to remain. Subsequently, in his official capacity, he conducted one-on-one, private, and documented interviews with four students—Zhou Yi, Chu Zihang, Lu Mingfei, and Su Xi—who had clear backgrounds in China. The content of these interviews was known only to the parties involved and was strictly confidential. As for Caesar, Nono, Zero, and others, they were confined to a designated hotel, their movements were somewhat restricted, and they underwent relatively brief questioning.
Several days later, the public unrest and panic triggered by that mythical battle gradually subsided under strong information control and guidance. The official response was direct and pragmatic: with such a large number of eyewitnesses, altering memories was neither realistic nor necessary. The focus was on controlling the channels of information dissemination; all videos and images related to the scene were tracked and deleted from the internet immediately. Even if some "escaped" and circulated in a small area, in today's era of information overload and deceptively realistic special effects, most were simply categorized by the public as "carefully crafted movie special effects" or "mass hysteria." "How could dragons and gods really exist in this world?"—this "rational" perception prevalent in modern thinking became the best shield. The public is intelligent, and precisely because of this intelligence, they often instinctively doubt things that defy common sense.
The restrictions were lifted on the residents of Kassel only after the social impact was largely under control.
Perhaps it was also because Principal Angers arrived personally by private jet, the legendary dragon slayer with his usual gentle smile, ready to take his students away.
"Nephew! Remember to keep in touch! Don't forget your game ID! I'll help you rank up!" Nuwa was held firmly in the arms of a woman with a cool temperament and dressed in an elegant cheongsam. She was Jiang Kouzhi, Bai Shanglu's wife. She swung her small arms and called out enthusiastically to Zhou Yi, who was boarding the plane.
Zhou Yi didn't even turn his head, only casually raising his hand in response. These past few days, he'd been quite bothered by this brat. Heaven knows how she saw through his identity at a glance, not only believing it without a doubt but also constantly referring to herself as "Auntie," either trying to drag him back to that troublesome-sounding "Zhou Family" to acknowledge some ancestry or clan, or pestering him to play online games with her—her energy was ridiculously abundant.
Principal Angers' gaze lingered briefly on Nuwa, Jiang Kouzhi, and Bai Shanglu, who stood silently beside them. He then glanced thoughtfully at Zhou Yi's back, a hint of elusive consideration flashing in the depths of his silver-gray eyes.
Once boarded, the cabin door closed, cutting off the outside world's view, and the atmosphere inside the cabin relaxed slightly.
Lu Mingfei slumped back in his seat, letting out a long sigh. He then nudged Zhou Yi, who was resting with his eyes closed, with his elbow, his tone full of envy and jealousy: "I never expected, Senior Brother, that you're actually one of those... ancient wealthy young masters from novels who have fallen into obscurity and whose origins are shrouded in mystery! The Zhou family... I've heard about them these past few days. They're real 'old money,' the only mixed-race family in the country!" He secretly gave a thumbs up.
Zhou Yi didn't even lift his eyelids, only replying indifferently, "You're overthinking it."
"Tsk, what a loser." Chen Motong, sitting opposite them, glanced at Lu Mingfei and kicked him without hesitation. "It is or it isn't, what's there to be so sour about? Instead of worrying about other people's ancestors being rich, you should think about yourself." Her words were pointed, and Lu Mingfei immediately wilted, muttering something unintelligible.
The roar of the aircraft engines gradually intensified, the fuselage began to taxi, accelerate, and lift its nose, finally breaking free from Earth's gravity and soaring into the clouds. The Three Gorges scenery outside the porthole rapidly shrank, turning into a blurry silhouette of mountains and water, leaving behind the waves, shocks, and heavy fog of the past few days.
However, no one in the cabin could truly relax. A stagnant silence permeated the air, deeper than when previous missions failed or when encountering powerful enemies. Everyone knew that once some veils were lifted, the truths and levels of power revealed could no longer be concealed or ignored by old understanding.
The figure wielding a sword to cleave the sea and ultimately slay the Dragon King displayed a power beyond mere "power." It was a "great power" that approached the very nature of the rules themselves, enough to make any power assessment system based on bloodline ratings, word power sequences, or even modern weapon systems instantly appear pale and laughable.
This impact was particularly acute for someone as proud and arrogant as Caesar Gattuso.
He sat leaning against the window seat, his usually upright back slightly slumped against the seat. His azure eyes gazed at the rapidly passing clouds outside, but his gaze was unfocused. Between his fingers, the ornately decorated yet utterly deadly Dick's folding knife, which had been with him for years, was unconsciously opened and closed repeatedly, the cold metallic clicks echoing sharply in the quiet cabin.
He originally thought he had reached the pinnacle of the younger generation of hybrids, possessing top-tier "Kamaitachi" incantations and having undergone the most rigorous combat training. Even before setting off on this mission, deep down he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement—perhaps he would have the chance to face the legendary Dragon King head-on and test his true limits one-on-one.
But now...
Involuntarily, the devastating prelude to "Candle Dragon" replayed in his mind, the feng shui twin dragons that easily tore apart the "Monarch Flame" fireball, the golden giant sword that pierced through the six conceptual dragon heads, and the final "Forget the Dao for Three Thousand Years" that divided reality and reduced destruction to nothingness... Any one of these scenes was enough to crush everything he was proud of—speed, strength, tactics, and even pride itself—into dust, making it all insignificant.
The folding knife in his hand felt light and airy at that moment, like a child's toy.
Chen Motong glanced at the silent Caesar, then at the repeatedly opened and closed folding knife in his hand, a complex emotion flickering deep within her red eyes. She didn't say anything, but simply turned her head to look out the window, her brows slightly furrowed. Lu Mingfei seemed to want to say something to lighten the mood, opened his mouth, but ultimately shut up under Chu Zihang's calm, unwavering gaze and Nuonuo's warning look, shrinking back into his seat and listlessly playing with his fingers.
Susie leaned back in her seat, her face still somewhat pale, whether from her previous physical discomfort or the stress of the past few days' experiences and conversations was unclear. Zero remained as silent as ever, as if all the disturbances of the outside world were irrelevant to her, except that her icy blue eyes would occasionally and very briefly sweep over the back of Zhou Yi's head in the row in front of her.
Zhou Yi himself had his eyes closed, seemingly taking a nap. His breathing was steady, but his complexion was still a bit paler than usual. No one knew what he was thinking.
The connecting door between the cockpit and the passenger cabin slid open gently, and Principal Angers stepped out. He was still wearing a well-tailored suit, his silver-gray hair was perfectly styled, and his face wore his usual gentle, enigmatic smile. But upon closer inspection, a deeper and sharper look was revealed in the depths of his equally silver-gray eyes.
His gaze slowly swept over each student in the cabin.
"Children," he began, his voice steady yet strangely penetrating, breaking the silence in the cabin, "a wonderful adventure, wasn't it? Witnessing the true face of ancient legends, and seeing... the boundaries that power can reach, boundaries we never imagined."
The plane continued its steady flight, piercing through the clouds, heading towards an unknown destination. Inside the cabin, some were lost in thought, some were bewildered, and some clenched their fists in secret. Ancient secrets, a sudden intrusion into order, forces that overturned perceptions… these were no longer distant stories or abstract concepts; they had become tangible impacts, crashing into everyone's world.
Even Lu Mingze, hidden in the shadows, was filled with impotent rage, jumping up and down in fury. According to the rules, without killing Norton, he couldn't take a quarter of Lu Mingfei's life, meaning his efforts were in vain.
"You can't blame me for this. If you're so capable, go and argue with that sword immortal." Lu Mingfei said smugly when someone came to collect a debt.
"Bastard!" Lu Mingze cursed.
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.
I didn't get to the climax of the story, but I can't write any more today, or it'll be seven thousand words already.
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