Dragon Raja 2; Chapter 19: A Birthday Cake is the Grave of Youth (8)

Dragon Raja 2

The ground shook again, accompanied by another deafening explosion. Sure enough, the maniacs in the Gear Department had done it again. It truly was a night that could drive people to despair.

Yanling: Scorching Sun

Sequence Number: 28

Bloodline Origin: Bronze and Fire King

Threat Level: Low

Discovered and Named By: Louis XIV

The user triggers fire elements within the domain to emit intense visible light, resulting in a field that resembles a miniature sun.

Although visually impressive, it does not produce deadly heat like similar Yanling, such as “King’s Blaze.” The temperature within the domain may increase slightly due to the heat from the light waves, but it only reaches uncomfortable, not lethal, levels.

Users often possess enhanced vision that allows them to see in bright light, making them immune to the effects of “Scorching Sun.”

In combat, its effectiveness is remarkable, causing significant psychological impact on enemies. If opponents enter the “Scorching Sun” domain, they typically lose their ability to attack or defend, provided the domain is large enough.

Yanling “Kamaitachi” is an absolute counter to “Scorching Sun.”

Outside of combat, the user can serve as an excellent portable ultraviolet light source, capable of eradicating all viruses and bacteria within the domain in a very short time. Therefore, this Yanling is well-suited for medical purposes.

A hybrid priest in Texas once used this Yanling to scam people. Despite being able to create a light sphere less than a foot in diameter, he positioned it behind his head and claimed to be the reincarnation of Jesus.

The reason for naming this Yanling is straightforward and needs no further explanation.

“I shall perish, but you are eternal.”

—Louis XIV

The morning sunlight streamed through the skylight, spilling onto the empty basketball court. The basketball hit the bright patch of light, producing a strong thudding sound.

Chu Zihang was alone, dribbling, crouching, and breathing deeply.

The electronic whistle blew, and Chu Zihang moved—driving forward with the ball, jumping like a hurricane, dunking! His figure blurred from the speed of his movements, and the sound of the ball hitting the floor came so quickly it resembled the rapid fire of an automatic weapon.

“The ball didn’t even hit the ground. Chu Zihang landed faster than the ball, grabbed it instantly, and turned around, advancing toward the opposite hoop—another slam dunk! The hoop made a cracking sound, as if it were about to break.

The cycle repeated, the automatic scoreboard constantly updating. It was a one-man basketball game, yet the score kept alternating on both sides.

The final buzzer sounded, and the scoreboard showed ‘50:50.’ Chu Zihang’s sneakers screeched on the floor as he slid into the center circle, slowly straightening up. On one side of the court, the ball finally hit the ground with a thud.

Up to this point, Chu Zihang didn’t have a drop of sweat on him, but a few seconds later, hot sweat began pouring out like a floodgate opening, soaking his jersey.

This was the basketball court at Chu Zihang’s home, and he was doing his morning workout. Back in middle school, he played center for the city’s youth team, but after his bloodline awakened, most human sports lost their appeal. Stronger muscles, better agility, and hyper-flexible bones made playing basketball with ordinary people feel like going for a stroll. Therefore, few people at Cassell College played basketball—even the girls could easily jump and dunk, making the game boring. Instead, the college favored intellectual competitions like Go, high-speed alpine skiing, which tested agility and courage, and Caesar’s favorite, sailing—a noble and elegant activity, with the smooth lines of the boom pulling taut ropes as icy water splashed onto a bare chest while crossing lakes and oceans.

Thus, Chu Zihang could only play by himself, turning what was once an exciting game into a monotonous morning exercise. Caesar always mocked Chu Zihang for his taste in sports, but Chu Zihang seemed not to hear it, continuing to play basketball on his own—after all, he had never been an interesting person.

The first person to teach him basketball was that man, and that alone was enough to keep him playing for the rest of his life.

Chu Zihang slipped out of his red jersey and headed to the shower. He had a routine for his showers—three minutes exactly: one minute of hot water, one minute of cold water, and one minute of warm water. The first minute of hot water would force out any remaining sweat from his body, the second minute of cold water would tighten his muscles and skin, and the third minute of warm water would rinse everything clean. When Caesar and the student council officers soaked in a whirlpool bath sprinkled with flower petals, drinking beer, they would often mock Chu Zihang, saying that if they lived in the decadence of ancient Rome, Chu Zihang would be a monk from the austere Middle Ages.

Caesar’s description wasn’t quite accurate—Chu Zihang didn’t like suffering; he just wanted to maintain himself as precise as a machine.

Cold water rushed over his defined muscles, flowing like a stream over rocky terrain. His overheated muscles and tendons slowly returned to normal, while Chu Zihang inhaled and exhaled in rhythm, bringing his heartbeat and blood flow down. His physical training specialty was Tai Chi.

Just then, his phone, sealed in a waterproof bag, began to ring. Chu Zihang never let his phone out of sight, even in the shower.

“There’s a mission for you,” came his direct instructor Schneider’s voice. It always sounded like an order—harsh, like a cudgel striking down.

“I’m listening.” Chu Zihang quickly dried off.

“Urgent mission, classified SS. Retrieve an important document before 7:00 PM today. Norma has already emailed you the details.” Schneider paused, lowering his voice. “Restrain yourself… try not to cause too much damage, and avoid casualties—don’t be like those maniacs in the Gear Department.” There was the faint sound of an explosion in the background, and Schneider’s voice was laced with anger. “They’re tearing down the campus!”

“SS?” Chu Zihang wasn’t interested in the maniacs from the Gear Department; what surprised him was the mission’s classification. The highest-level mission he had ever taken part in was an A-rank.

“You heard right. According to the original plan, you were supposed to return to campus today, right? Norma has booked UA836, tonight’s direct flight to Chicago, for you and Lu Mingfei.”

“Lu Mingfei?” Chu Zihang was taken aback.

Series Navigation

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