The boardroom fell silent.
Ange's logic was airtight.
The Secret Party existed to slay dragons, but it also existed to keep that world sealed away from ordinary people. Any large-scale leak would cause immediate social collapse. At the opening phase of the Dragon Kings' Awakening War, stirring internal chaos was the worst possible move.
"Either investigate every Secret Party family holding a Black Card," Ange said calmly, leaning back in his chair, "or ignore this entirely. Decide for yourselves. I'll state my position clearly-I do not object."
"...The first agenda item is tabled."
The monk-like elder rang his bell, eyes on Frost.
"Any objections?"
"No objection." Frost shook his head.
His expression was grim.
This was the second time today.
The second time he had charged in with full momentum, only to impale himself cleanly on the opponent's blade.
Public humiliation at this level was close to social suicide. If Frost hadn't ruled for decades and grown a thick enough skin, he might have cracked already. Every move he prepared ended with him striking himself-with frightening precision.
"Very well," the monk said. "Let us proceed to the next item. A detailed report on the King of Bronze and Fire incident, the suspected King of Oceans and Water, and how they should be handled."
Ange rang the bell lightly.
"I'll call in my student. He has sufficient standing to speak."
...
Moments later, Morin entered the chamber under an attendant's guidance.
He walked to Ange's side without hesitation.
The directors' gazes changed the instant he appeared.
To Morin, this felt like children playing house.
To the directors, this was a child born for the stage.
Facing the highest authorities of the Secret Party, he showed no restraint, no tension. He walked as if through his own backyard, his eyes passing over the directors as if they were ordinary people.
And none of them took offense.
After Ange's reminder, every director held one fact firmly in mind:
This freshman-without systematic training-had rescued a hijacked Headmaster from the hands of two Dragon Kings.
A frontal encounter.
In other words, if he wished, he could eliminate everyone in this room except Ange in a single second.
The sharpest contrast came from Frost.
When Morin wasn't present, Frost could pressure Ange with righteous condescension. Ange looked at the bigger picture; Frost knew that.
Now?
Frost wore a faint smile.
Morin didn't need mind-reading to understand it. Frost didn't know his temperament. If Morin acted on impulse and Frost died here, who would Frost complain to?
More importantly, with Morin's displayed talent, he was a prime candidate for the next generation of dragon slayers.
If cultivated properly, he could even replace Ange.
Naturally, the directors' strategy shifted to winning him over.
"Heh." Ange chuckled softly. "Many years ago, I stood here. Their predecessors wore the same expressions you see today."
He glanced at Morin.
"Seeing them look at you now-it's identical."
"That's fine," Morin smiled lightly. "Though I don't think they need to bother. I'm not interested in power games."
"Second agenda item," the monk said. "Facing two Monarchs simultaneously has no precedent. We need the battle details."
"Should I explain?" Morin glanced at Ange.
Ange nodded firmly.
"I had just returned from a date that day," Morin said evenly. "I sensed something was off, so I used my Bugatti Veyron to ram them directly."
He paused.
"Oh. That reminds me. I destroyed a Bugatti worth tens of millions. The school will reimburse me, right? I'd prefer it issued as a scholarship-along with my reward for this incident."
"...Didn't you say you had no money?" Frost rang his bell sharply. "How did you get a Bugatti after two days at school?"
"A Day of Liberty wager," Morin replied without emotion. "I won. Caesar Gattuso lost it to me. That makes it my private property. Unless you're suggesting it wasn't his to give?"
"...The Gattuso family honors its debts." Frost's face stiffened. "The cost will be covered by them."
Third time.
The third time Frost tried to break through-and stabbed his own side instead.
"Please issue it as a scholarship," Morin nodded. "Personal preference. Now, the main point."
The directors thought in unison: That was not the main point.
"I exited the vehicle, rescued the Principal, and evacuated the students," Morin continued.
Silence.
"...That's all?" one director finally asked.
"That's all," Morin nodded. "It was simple."
Simple.
Two Dragon Kings.
"...Young man," the monk rang his bell helplessly, "could you be more detailed?"
Frost followed up. "Why were students present? Facing Dragon Kings, reckless action implies serious educational failure at Cassell-"
"The students present," Ange interrupted calmly, "were A-rank Caesar Gattuso, A-rank Chu Zihang, and S-rank Lu Mingfei-besides Morin."
He looked at Frost.
"If the Gattuso family insists, we can punish these three outstanding students. What do you think?"
Frost closed his mouth.
Fourth time.
The fourth clean self-inflicted strike.
"Continue," Ange smiled at Morin. "With more detail."
Morin sighed, his expression saying Why are you all so troublesome?
"I didn't know their identities. The car was instantly frozen. I unbuckled, used inertia to break through the windshield, used my phone to shatter the water blockade, dispersed the water entity without permanent damage, couldn't attack the Bronze and Fire King due to lack of weapons, rescued the Principal, evacuated the others, and exhausted my stamina."
"...Exhausted?"
Even the monk hesitated.
"My Soul Skill enables extreme-speed movement," Morin said. "The cost is massive stamina drain. My brain can't guide fine control-I follow preset trajectories."
"Soul Skill: Flash," the monk said. "Maximum speed?"
"Unknown," Morin shrugged. "I feel I can go faster. My body can't handle it yet."
"He awakened recently," Ange added. "There is room to grow."
He rang the bell.
"If we can defeat one First-Generation Lord, we have the technology."
"...Project Nibelungen," Frost said quietly.
"A theoretical project," Ange said. "The limitation is not technology, but material."
He turned to Morin.
"A Dragon Bone Cross of a First-Generation Lord. With it, Nibelungen removes the Death Servitor risk and grants potential approaching a Monarch. Our best chance to end this war."
"Principal, you're flattering me," Morin chuckled. "I'm excellent, but shy."
Elizabeth smiled. "Confidence suits you. I propose Project Nibelungen's beneficiary be decided by who plays the decisive role in killing the Dragon Kings."
"No objection," Ange said immediately.
"...Agreed," the monk nodded after looking at Frost.
"I have no objection," Frost said at last.
The board moved on.
...
"How long to recover?" Morin asked Norton in White Emperor City.
"Half a month," Norton replied. "Guard the waters."
"They won't prepare that fast," Morin waved it off. "This is the Three Gorges. I'm invincible here."
...
On the plane back, Ange spoke quietly.
"The Secret Party isn't noble. They want alchemy, genes, cocooning secrets. Dragons are finite. Public exposure would bring governments in. They won't allow that."
"I know," Morin replied. "So... can I take leave tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow?" Ange blinked.
"Qixi Festival," Morin said. "Couples' holiday."
"Your... girlfriend?" Ange hesitated.
"Yeah. She stood me up last time." Morin smiled.
There was no warmth in it.
"A boy can be more gentlemanly," Ange advised softly.