Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 112: Greenland’s Shadow (6)

Dragon Raja 3

“Of course, it’s possible. We know very little about dragon hatching processes. How could we know when it would hatch?”

“Caesar’s group doesn’t know this, right?”

“They don’t need to know. Knowing would only add unnecessary fear. We’re just borrowing their bloodline; only those with the purest blood can resist the influence of an embryo’s domain.”

“How are you any different from those School Board bastards? Caesar’s group is like lambs willingly walking to the sacrificial altar, and the shepherd leading them is nothing but a demon!”

“A demon? Are you talking about me?” Schneider looked up.

“Who else could I mean? Now I finally understand what that saying means! The people in the Equipment Department are lunatics, but those in the Execution Bureau are all madmen. The people in the Equipment Department don’t understand the value of life, while those in the Execution Bureau are indifferent to it!” Manstein growled, “Is all you care about just the damned mission? No matter how many people die for that damned mission, you don’t care, do you? You sit here pretending to be mournful, smoking alone, reminiscing about your dead students, and yet, you’re sending a new generation of students into hell! If I were your mother, I would regret ever giving birth to you!”

“You couldn’t possibly be my mother. You’re a man,” Schneider said coldly. “Manstein, sometimes I really envy you because people like you and Guderian live in a clean world, unlike people like me and the Principal—‘Sinners of Sin.’”

“Sinners of Sin?”

“People who swallow sin. In this world, not everything right is just, nor is everything just necessarily right. There’s an old moral dilemma: at a railroad switch, there’s a warning sign on one track because trains usually pass through there. On the other, abandoned track, there’s no warning. Now the train is coming. There are 100 children playing on the active track, ignoring the warning, while one solitary child plays on the abandoned track, following the rules. You can flip the switch. Would you? If you don’t, 100 children die—children who disobeyed. If you do, the train will take the abandoned track, killing one child—the one who followed the rules.” Schneider looked Manstein in the eyes. “So, my dear Professor Manstein, would you flip the switch?”

Manstein was stunned. He couldn’t answer—it was an impossible dilemma. Is obedience more important, or is life? If he didn’t flip the switch, how could he face the sorrow of those hundred children’s parents? Just because they disobeyed, does that mean they deserved to die? But if he did flip the switch, how could he bear to let that innocent child die? The one who perhaps even warned others not to approach the active track… How could he let the innocent child die?

“Time’s up. While you hesitated over whether to flip the switch, those hundred children have already died,” Schneider said flatly. “You didn’t make a choice. You just watched everything happen.”

“What would you choose?” Manstein asked hoarsely.

“I would flip the switch. Although I would kill one child, I would save a hundred. That would make me the Sinner of Sin. I would do what is right, but in doing so, commit an evil act. By taking that sin upon myself, others could remain innocent and kind.”

“That’s sophistry!” Manstein retorted.

“It’s unnecessary if you weren’t my friend—I wouldn’t even bother saying this to you,” Schneider shook his head. “I did send Caesar’s group on a dangerous mission, but it was an unavoidable choice. We can’t allow that embryo to hatch in the abyss. The sooner we act, the better—before it gains self-awareness. To wait is to hesitate, and hesitation only gives our enemy more time to prepare. That’s what the Principal said. If Caesar’s group perishes because of this, I will take the blame.”

“I thought you would at least consider Chu Zihang. You’ve always been particularly concerned for his safety,” Manstein said helplessly.

“Chu Zihang, Lu Mingfei, or Caesar—to the Execution Bureau, they are simply different weapons. We care about whether the weapon is intact, but if we never draw the sword, the weapon loses its value! Remember the transmitter I implanted in Chu Zihang’s molar?” Schneider pushed his phone toward Manstein, showing a map of Japan with a red dot blinking rhythmically.

Manstein nodded.

“I recruited him into Cassell College, but ever since the day he enrolled, I’ve monitored his every move. If he loses control, I won’t hesitate to put him on the danger list and arrange for someone to eliminate him. Only a devil can manage the Execution Bureau, and the people who work with me are all madmen. What binds us is not emotion but a common goal. From the beginning, the Secret Party has been this kind of organization. Our enemies are dragons, beings of unmatched strength. If we have any fragile emotions, we will surely die!”

“If sacrificing anyone is acceptable for slaying dragons, why don’t you go into the submersible yourself?”

Schneider looked up at Manstein, picked up the white porcelain plate beside him, and placed it between them. The plate was empty except for a silver knife and fork. Suddenly, he grabbed the dining knife and stabbed it into his own chest, forcefully pushing it down to the hilt!

Schneider silently smoked, staring into Manstein’s eyes without saying a word. The gaping wound in his chest seemed to have no effect. Manstein was stunned. After a minute, Schneider pulled the knife out of the wound, which had already begun to heal. The knife was tightly wedged by muscle as he extracted it. Schneider remained expressionless, showing no sign of pain.

“You’re contaminated!” Manstein croaked.

Schneider tossed the knife back onto the porcelain plate, its blood-stained surface ghastly. “Yes, I was contaminated by ancient dragon blood.” The wound quickly stopped bleeding, and the muscle regenerated visibly.

“Only one in a hundred thousand people can survive and evolve after exposure to ancient dragon blood. I happen to be that one in a hundred thousand. I was able to survive the ocean because the dragon blood began activating my potential the moment I inhaled it. But I’m not fully compatible with the dragon blood—it ravaged my body, strengthening me while also destroying me. I’ve endured this for ten years. The one most likely to fall and become a Death Servitor at the college isn’t Chu Zihang—it’s me. It’s not that I don’t dare dive; it’s that my body cannot endure it. The person sitting in front of you now is a terminally ill patient. Without the dragon blood, I would’ve died long ago.”

“Does the Principal know?”

“He knows. The college devised a special medical plan for me. I undergo blood transfusions annually, but the dragon blood can never be fully cleansed. How much time I have left is unknown.” Schneider tapped his chest. “I have a bomb installed next to my heart, about the size of a pacemaker. If I lose control, it will explode. I’ll fall suddenly in the soft sound of a minor blast, and I won’t cause trouble for any of you.”

“So even to yourself, you’re this cruel?” Manstein whispered.