“No!” Lu Mingfei stared at Professor Guderian. “I’m not afraid of dragons… Have you seen Terminator?”
“Yes, Arnold Schwarzenegger’s movie. I like him a lot; he’s currently the governor of California,” Professor Guderian nodded.
“Do you remember the scene where John Connor’s mother tells the police she saw a time-traveling robot? The robot comes from a time when humanity is nearly extinct, armed with a laser rifle and shooting everywhere…” Lu Mingfei nodded. “So the police say, ‘You must be crazy!’”
“You think I’m crazy?”
“Either that, or I am!” Lu Mingfei shouted.
“Alright then, some freshmen need tangible proof.” Professor Guderian clapped his hands.
The door to the study opened, and in walked a middle-aged man with “I’m Japanese” written all over his face. He carried a black briefcase in each hand, each with silver metal edges, looking quite sturdy. After placing the two briefcases on the desk, he bowed respectfully to Lu Mingfei and introduced himself in fluent Chinese, “My name is Toyama Masashi, a psychological counselor at Cassell College. It’s an honor to meet our S-Rank freshman. We haven’t had an S-Rank in over forty years.”
“Really? Can I ask who that S-Rank student was forty years ago? Some ultimate dragon slayer?” Lu Mingfei tried speaking in their style.
“He had the potential, but he committed suicide in his sophomore year, so there wasn’t much after that.” Toyama Masashi was very straightforward.
“Suicide?”
“He was too outstanding in his studies and had sharp thinking. He encountered some philosophical dilemmas while researching dragons and couldn’t get past them, so he ended it. After that, we added psychological counselors,” Toyama explained.
“Sounds great,” Lu Mingfei took a deep breath. “I’ve always been famous for being dull.”
“But you have potential!” Professor Guderian gave Toyama a thumbs-up, looking spirited, clearly meaning that this student was the best.
Lu Mingfei didn’t understand what he was so happy about and wanted to cover his face.
“We’ve brought two pieces of evidence to prove that dragons indeed exist. Both are high-level artifacts, which we borrowed from the college archives,” Toyama said, unlocking the first briefcase with a combination and fingerprint. After removing several layers of foam, Lu Mingfei saw a black scale, about half the size of a palm, perfectly shield-shaped, with a smooth surface that seemed freshly oiled. Its texture was clearly visible under the sheen.
“Pinch it,” Toyama said.
Lu Mingfei cautiously picked up the scale, finding it felt almost fake—similar to steel, cold and firm, yet surprisingly light, almost like plastic. Its edges were sharp enough to cut his fingers if he applied a bit of pressure. Toyama then handed something to him.
Lu Mingfei was stunned—it was a handgun.
“A Walther PPK pistol, 7.65mm caliber, with a muzzle velocity of 280 meters per second and an effective range of 50 meters. The guys from the Gear Department have done some modifications to it. Now, you can use it to shoot at the scale.” Toyama placed the scale on the windowsill.
“I know this gun… 007 used it too,” Lu Mingfei’s face was pale.
“Yes, it’s the classic 007 handgun.” Toyama covered his ears. “Don’t worry, just shoot. Aim at the scale.”
“The logic of madmen is beyond comprehension,” Lu Mingfei said bitterly, raising the gun as he’d been taught during his high school military training, aiming at the scale, and pulling the trigger with gritted teeth.
With a deafening bang, Lu Mingfei felt like he’d been hit in the chest by a sledgehammer. The recoil from the PPK made him feel like he’d fired a cannon shell, sending him sprawling backward, all the way onto the sofa behind him. Stars danced before his eyes, and he nearly passed out.
“Turns out he’s not one of those physically outstanding students!” Toyama’s surprised voice echoed in his ears. “Maybe I should have brought a regular revolver.”
“Did you modify this gun in the Gear Department? Sigh, those madmen shouldn’t just hand out their modified gear so casually!” Professor Guderian complained repeatedly.
“I was a bit curious. It’s a good gun, though it might not blow out a dragon’s eye with one shot, but it could probably leave some marks on a fourth or fifth generation species,” Toyama said.
Lu Mingfei shook his head hard, taking in his surroundings. The first thing he saw was Professor Guderian’s face, full of concern. The second thing was the black scale swaying in Toyama’s hand—still flawless, without a single mark on it. Lu Mingfei was absolutely sure he had hit the center of the scale. He wasn’t particularly strong, but in military training, he was one of the few students who could score ten out of ten shots, and even the instructor was amazed at how well this unassuming guy could shoot.
A gun comparable to a cannon, yet it hadn’t pierced the scale.
“This is a dragon scale, discovered in the ancient city of Loulan, Xinjiang, China, in 1900 by Sven Hedin. He didn’t recognize it for what it was, but he found that neither fire nor a hammer could damage it, so he brought it back to Europe. Someone in Europe identified it. That person was Manecke Cassell. This is one of the pieces of evidence. Do you believe now?” Toyama said.
“Couldn’t it be high-tech?” Lu Mingfei was still stubborn.
“Even if it were a titanium alloy made with nanotechnology, it couldn’t withstand a shot like that,” Toyama said. “I have a doctorate in materials science from the University of Tokyo. You can trust me.”
This place was not only full of madmen, but also highly educated madmen, Lu Mingfei thought.
“Alright, now for the second piece of evidence.” Toyama opened the second briefcase. A cylindrical glass jar was brought before Lu Mingfei, like the jars teachers used in biology class to store specimens.
Lu Mingfei’s mouth dropped open, as if struck by lightning. If Toyama had stuffed an orange into his mouth at that moment, he probably wouldn’t have noticed. Suspended in the pale yellow formalin solution was a creature that looked very much like a lizard, yellowish-white in color, curled up with a long tail like a fetus in a womb. Its long whiskers floated slowly in the solution, and with its eyes closed, it looked as peaceful as a baby. If it weren’t for the two membranous wings spread out behind it, Lu Mingfei would have thought it was just some kind of ancient lizard.