Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 32: New Testament (2)

Dragon Raja 3

“In a research facility in northern Siberia, I spent some time with Renata Evgenievna Chicherina,” the boy said, taking a document from his briefcase and handing it to the man. “According to this birth certificate, she’s your daughter.”

The man tossed the document onto the table as if he had burned himself, eyeing the boy nervously. “Did something happen to her?”

“No, nothing happened. But ‘Project Delta’ has been officially terminated, and all participants are being repatriated. Your daughter is under eighteen and should be under parental supervision. I’m here to handle the paperwork. Are you concerned about her?”

“No, no!” Former professor Chicherin and his wife waved their hands frantically. “As long as she doesn’t cause trouble!”

“Cause trouble? Like what?” The boy raised an eyebrow.

“She’s not a normal girl; she was born different!” The look in Mrs. Chicherina’s eyes was mysterious.

“Oh? I’ll make a note in the record,” the boy said, opening a file.

Mr. Chicherin hesitated for a moment. “She was born able to mimic everything! By the time she was two, she could understand my calculus equations and mentally calculate faster than I could!”

“That just means she was a prodigy, doesn’t it?”

“At first, I thought so too, and I was genuinely happy. But soon I realized that her abnormality couldn’t be explained by ‘prodigy.’ Once, I found her disassembling our radio and then reassembling it from the parts,” Mr. Chicherin said loudly. “She was just three years old. She hadn’t learned anything about radios or electronics—how did she do that?”

“The electronic components of a radio aren’t that many. Maybe she simply had an extraordinary memory and remembered the assembly sequence by force,” the boy shook his head. “Kids have a strong capacity for imitation.”

“But I have to tell you, that radio was broken! After she reassembled it, it worked! She modified the circuitry while reassembling it. Originally, the radio had 178 components, but she assembled a functioning radio with just 167 of them. The 11 components she left out happened to be the burned-out transistors!” Mr. Chicherin’s voice was filled with fear. “She merely opened the back of the radio and glanced at its components, and she understood how it worked. This is not human intelligence! This intelligence surpasses the limits set by God for mankind!”

The boy raised an eyebrow. “Professor Chicherin, sometimes you sound more like a priest than a scientist.”

“No, no, scientists don’t need to deny the existence of God. Science can be used to explain God,” Professor Chicherin hurriedly defended himself. “That’s my research field—genetic theology.”

“Alright, genetic theology,” the boy nodded. “So why do you believe your daughter is a devil? Perhaps she’s a god instead.”

“If I hadn’t seen her assembling the radio with my own eyes, I might have believed she was an angel. But I saw that scene myself,” Mrs. Chicherina said, stroking her ample chest. “Her eyes turned an eerie golden color, and her expression was more feral than focused. The way she looked at those electronic components was not like a child playing with a toy. There was no emotion, just a chilling coldness that was suffocating! I was really scared at that moment!”

“Amazing. I didn’t realize she was that unique,” the boy toyed with a pen but didn’t write a single word. “And then?”

Mr. and Mrs. Chicherin exchanged glances. “For science, we donated her to the state.”

“Oh?”

“She is a one-of-a-kind research subject! Her cells, her DNA, her bones, her brain stem tissue—they are treasures! If America knew someone like her existed, who knows how much they would pay to get their hands on her!” Mr. Chicherin said confidently.

“The records show that you were awarded the title of professor at the college of Sciences for ‘special contributions.’ Was it because you donated your daughter for scientific purposes?”

“I also had some significant research results in genetics…” Mr. Chicherin added.

“I see.” The boy closed the folder. “The situation is this: If you want to bring her back home, the state will fulfill your request, and you can reunite as a family. However, given her exceptional value to scientific research, if you choose to donate her to the state again, you will be awarded a special bonus and your professorship will be reinstated. The choice is yours. But if you do decide to donate her again, she may be sent to a distant research facility, and you might not have the chance to see her again.”

“No need, no need! This is perfect!” Chicherin said loudly, excitedly. “We are all willing to devote our lives to science!”

“I’d like to ask,” Mrs. Chicherina said, swaying her hips in excitement, unaware or uncaring whether her feminine charm had any effect on the boy, “how much is this bonus?”

“How does one hundred thousand rubles sound?” The boy smiled. “That amount could buy the virginity of ten maidens on the black market.”

One hundred thousand rubles? For the Chicherins, it was an unimaginable fortune. They looked at each other, excited. Mrs. Chicherina took her husband’s hand and pressed it against her ample chest, lifting her head in praise of this unexpected blessing. With money, everything was possible—she wouldn’t need to attend dances with those boyfriends to afford imported food and fancy clothes. And Mr. Chicherin could regain his professorship and afford to support his family. With enough money, he could have another child with his beautiful wife—perhaps a girl even more beautiful than Renata. They were so overjoyed that they didn’t notice this “KGB officer” casually mentioning something strange like “ten maidens’ virginity.”

“Deal, then?” The boy extended his hand.

“Deal!” Mrs. Chicherina lunged forward, shaking his hand.

The boy took out stack after stack of rubles from his briefcase—ten stacks in total—and pushed them in front of Mr. Chicherin. “From today onward, Renata Evgenievna Chicherina belongs to me.”

“Of course, of course! If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask,” Mr. Chicherin rubbed his chubby hands together, “if you could remove her name from the records? I feel there’s no need to keep ‘Evgenievna’… Since she belongs to the state, it’s unnecessary to include her patronymic…”

The boy smiled understandingly. “I understand. Didn’t I just say she belongs to me now? No one will come looking for you because of her anymore. Evgenievna can be erased, even Chicherina can be erased, even Renata can be erased.”

“That’s wonderful…” Mr. Chicherin reached for the money, but he didn’t get to finish his sentence.

A black, antique military dagger pierced his heart, the blade held in the boy’s hand. Blood spurted from the grooves on both sides of the dagger. As he slowly drew the dagger from his briefcase, the joyous couple had still been embracing each other in celebration. Mrs. Chicherina let out a startled cry, but before she could finish, the boy had already pulled the blade out of Mr. Chicherina’s heart and, with a swift reverse grip, plunged it into the beloved chest of Mrs. Chicherina. Mr. Chicherin had no strength left to scream; he stumbled back, crashing into several rows of bookshelves. The boy twisted the dagger slowly, letting Mrs. Chicherina’s blood gush from the grooves on both sides.

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