“This is a red dragon cub, not even dead yet—just in a state of slumber. Dragons are very hard to kill, especially the noble first and second generations. Even if you destroy their bodies, you can’t destroy their souls, and they will eventually awaken again,” Toyama Masashi said. “This is a rare specimen. Normally, humans can’t capture dragons because dragons can sense human brain activity. They either attack before humans get too close or escape. This specimen was discovered in India in 1796. Luckily, this red dragon hatchling had just hatched when it was swallowed by a giant python. Local farmers killed the python and found the hatchling in its belly.”
“Are you sure it’s not plastic?” Lu Mingfei covered his face. “My worldview is completely shattered.”
“Take a closer look at the details of its scales. What kind of artist could create such a perfect plastic model?” Toyama brought the glass jar closer to Lu Mingfei.
Now, Lu Mingfei was face-to-face with the red dragon hatchling through a half-centimeter-thick layer of glass. Its membranous wings and long whiskers floated gently in the solution, as if suspended in clouds. Toyama was right—the details, the textures—were too realistic. Only nature or some divine power could produce something like this. They existed in the shadows of history, in the legends of different cultures, at the limits of human imagination, and now within this sealed glass jar.
“Perfect, isn’t it?” Toyama spoke with admiration.
“Perfect,” Lu Mingfei murmured.
He stared at the nictitating membrane covering the dragon’s eyes, recalling those golden eyes slowly opening in the dark, as if the gateway to another world was opening before him.
Suddenly, the red dragon hatchling in the formalin solution opened its eyes—golden eyes. Its entire body shuddered, from head to tail, convulsing as it extended its neck towards Lu Mingfei and let out a roar. The scorching dragon flame ignited deep in its throat, ready to be released! It struggled to open its wings, trying to break free from the jar. Though only the size of a cat, it carried the dignity of a dragon.
Lu Mingfei didn’t move; all three of them were stunned, watching as the ancient specimen revived before their eyes.
The faint dragon flame extinguished instantly, the formalin solution pouring into the hatchling’s throat, making it cough in agony like someone drowning. It failed to break free from the glass jar, and its powerful membranous wings flapped forcefully, but striking against the glass wall left no mark. This resurgence that had accumulated for hundreds of years ended as quickly as it began. Soon, the hatchling curled back up, returning to its peaceful slumber.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!” Lu Mingfei finally screamed, trembling as he pointed at the jar.
“Don’t shout,” Professor Guderian mumbled.
“Didn’t you see? Didn’t you see? It came to life just now! It came to life! A live dragon!” Lu Mingfei shouted, shaking the completely stunned old man.
“I saw it,” Professor Guderian turned to Toyama Masashi. “You saw it too, didn’t you?”
Toyama’s face was pale as he nodded repeatedly. “Yes… but this really wasn’t my intention. I didn’t know it would wake up right then…” He suddenly raised his voice, almost yelling. “What happened? Did the people at the archives mess up the labels? Its awakening date was supposed to be 2077! Their careless labeling could get us killed! It just breathed dragon flame! Dragon flame!”
“Good thing we’ve been using nanomaterial containers since last year; otherwise, we wouldn’t have made it through just now…” Professor Guderian wiped cold sweat from his forehead. “Oh my, its awakening date was calculated by Professor Manstein and me. It shouldn’t be wrong… unless… unless it’s a bloodline summoning!”
“Bloodline summoning?” Toyama Masashi turned to look at Lu Mingfei, his gaze like he was examining a freak.
“What else could cause a dragon to awaken early but a bloodline summoning?” Professor Guderian’s eyes were intense, and he patted Lu Mingfei’s shoulder vigorously. “It was your powerful bloodline summoning it! Lu Mingfei, now you know just how extraordinary you are, don’t you?”
Lu Mingfei’s shoulder was about to be crushed under his hand. “What are you talking about? Don’t blame this kind of life-threatening accident on me! I didn’t do anything!”
“The Dragon King can make humans submit just by looking at them; you don’t need to do anything, because you’re a hybrid with second-generation dragon abilities!” Professor Guderian nodded vigorously at Lu Mingfei.
“A hybrid? My dad’s a human, and my mom’s a human too! Have you read Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio too much? Think we’re all having human-dragon babies in China?” Lu Mingfei retorted.
“No, they are both human, but they are both dragon hybrids, so your bloodline carries a significant proportion of dragon lineage,” Professor Guderian and Toyama exchanged a look. “You’ll find out sooner or later—most people at this college are dragon hybrids. Do you know how we determine rank? Rank refers to bloodline rank. The reason you’re S-Rank is because you have a high purity of dragon bloodline!”
Lu Mingfei was stunned. Suddenly, Professor Guderian appeared to him as an old dragon, ready to spew deadly flames onto his face at any moment.
What was this place? A college of dragon hybrids? What was the difference between that and a dragon’s Nest? And he was… a little white rabbit in the Nest! His dragon bloodline was pure? How had he, a perfectly good mammal raised under the red flag, suddenly become seen as a reptile?
“But your dragon bloodline ratio is not over fifty percent. Students with over fifty percent dragon bloodline are not admitted. Though they have much more potential, their dragon bloodline will gradually transform them into dragon followers,” Professor Guderian said.
“You have a grudge against dragons?”
“The entire human race has a grudge against dragons, not just us,” Professor Guderian’s eyes sparkled. “This will all be explained in detail during your Dragon Genealogy class. Now that you know dragons exist, don’t you want to learn more? There’s a way! Every course will include knowledge about dragons. How about we select your courses now?”
“I don’t want to learn more! Can I drop out?” Lu Mingfei raised his hand.
Professor Guderian seemed very disappointed. “Hmm… You can, but the agreement you signed earlier includes ‘memory erasure.’ If you drop out, this part of your memory will have to be wiped. Now that you’ve glimpsed the real world, don’t you think it’d be a pity to leave?”
“A pity for what?” Lu Mingfei asked.
“Who wouldn’t want to know about the real world? That world is so vast you can’t even imagine it. Compared to it, the world you used to know is like a grain of rice in a wasteland—so insignificant,” Toyama said.