Vol2 Chapter 26: Principal, your joke is unique
The office was elegant—leather sofa, oak bookshelf, a massive world map on the wall, a neatly pressed uniform on a hanger, and lush potted plants.
“Do you know why I called you here?” Angers asked.
Bai Ci lowered her head, like a student caught misbehaving. She’d faced this classic teacher’s office opening line countless times, usually scrambling to recall her misdeeds and babbling excuses. But this time, she knew exactly why.
“I used Blood Burst,” she said.
“Your state wasn’t just Blood Burst.” Angers took a photo from a cabinet and handed it to her.
Bai Ci saw the figure in the image—covered in white scales, sharp bone protrusions sprouting from her forehead and arms, claws gleaming faintly, like a dragonkin from a fantasy novel come to life.
“You looked like a Deadpool, yet, unbelievably, you reverted,” Angers said, tucking the photo back into the cabinet. “Some suggested locking you in the Ice Cellar’s alchemical matrix. The Vice-Principal’s Word Spirit: Discipline, paired with a strong matrix, could suppress you. They thought it was the safest option.”
“You didn’t agree,” Bai Ci said.
“Of course not. If I had, Lu Mingfei would’ve come for my head.”
“Mm.”
“Your smile’s cute,” Angers said, chuckling. “Like a girl in love hearing her crush’s name.”
“No, you’ve got it wrong,” Bai Ci shook her head.
“Haha, young people are always like that.” Angers laughed. “Aren’t you curious why I refused?”
“You must have your reasons.”
“I like your answer.” Angers nodded, pleased. “You’re a hero who saved everyone. Without you, half my dear students would be gone.”
“If our hero woke up to find herself locked in a damp, dark Ice Cellar after risking everything to save others, she’d be heartbroken. In a manga, you’d probably ‘go dark’ and say something like, ‘The world’s the problem.’”
“You’re pretty trendy, Principal,” Bai Ci said, amused. “Thank you.”
“I’m an educator. Keeping up with youth culture is part of the job,” Angers smiled. “The students and I should be thanking you. You’re our hero—the one who saved us all.”
“You’re not some criminal to be locked away. You should be crowned with flowers, cheered by the crowd.”
“Thank you, Principal…” Bai Ci smiled at him. “I understand.”
“No need to thank me.” Angers poured her a cup of tea and handed it over. “Take a seat.”
Once she settled on the sofa, he continued, “The final report says the Chicago hotel incident wasn’t resonance but a ghostly stress force. I thought Norma’s printer glitched when I read that, but it’s the conclusion of Cassell’s ancient experts—some famous since World War I and II, even involved in the first nuclear bomb. If they’re wrong, no expert worldwide is more reliable.”
“This force is immense, its destruction staggering—like a precise, localized earthquake triggered from a single point. Imagine our enemy as a mysterious old martial artist, mastering force control to the extreme. If he wanted, he could destroy the Capitol or Pentagon with one strike.”
“Such precise stress control can’t be human. It’s likely a high-tier Word Spirit, wieldable only by a monarch-level dragon, the King of Earth and Mountains.”
“That’s our enemy.”
Angers took a sip of tea.
“The board will be here in a few days. Be ready.”
“The board?”
“Yep. After you turned into that, it’d be odd if they didn’t come for me,” Angers said, sipping again. “But don’t worry—you’ll be fine.”
He pulled a lab report from the cabinet and handed it to her.
Bai Ci took it without a word, scanning the first page’s standard results, then the dragon metrics on the second.
“It’s… normal?” she asked, puzzled.
“Exactly. Normal works in your favor,” Angers said, smiling. “The doctors were shocked. Your metrics are stable—no abnormal dragon blood activity, no aggressive takeover of human genes. Just slightly elevated dragon blood proteins, which shows your bloodline’s strength. But it’s odd…”
“Odd? How?” Bai Ci sipped her tea nervously.
“Blood Burst is a forbidden technique because it rewrites your genes closer to dragonkind each time. Your blood should be hyperactive, but it’s calm, coexisting harmoniously with your human blood.”
“Isn’t that good?” Bai Ci tilted her head.
“Very good.” Angers took four small vials of blood, dripping them into a glass. “Uncontrollable, fiery ‘evil’ blood reacts violently with human blood. This is Chu Zihang’s.”
Instantly, the quartz glass erupted in vivid red, like spilled ink, blooming flowers, or a gushing fountain. The reaction was as intense as sodium in water, leaving black streaks on the table.
“His blood’s like aqua regia, always at risk of turning Deadpool,” Angers said lightly. “But we’ll manage. He’s a key student.”
“This is yours.”
He dripped two drops.
Nothing happened.
“After Blood Burst, dragon blood should react strongly. You had none. Your dragonized state should’ve lingered, but it vanished instantly. Most surprising… your dragon blood concentration is unusually high.” Angers paused. “Bai Ci, have you considered you might not be a pure Chinese hybrid?”
“Huh?” Bai Ci pointed at herself, bewildered. Not a pure Chinese hybrid? Am I from Mars?
“You might be half-Japanese…”
Crash.
Her cup shattered on the floor.
“That’s a… unique joke, Principal,” Bai Ci forced a smile, trembling. “Don’t make those anymore, okay?”
“I’m not joking. Look on the bright side—at least you have a Chinese mother, or you wouldn’t have grown up there.”
Bai Ci’s vision blurred, her body slumping on the sofa, boneless.
The sky’s falling.
“Don’t get worked up. To me, bloodlines mean nothing. Dragon blood doesn’t make you a dragon. If you’re raised somewhere, that’s your home. You’ve been here since you can remember, grew up here—you’re one of us. Whoever raised you is your true parent. Biological parents are just that—biological. If my parents weren’t my birth ones, I’d still proudly say my adoptive parents are my real ones. If I were you, I’d say I’m Chinese, just with Japanese blood. I don’t care about blood, nor do those around you. That’s enough.”
“Oh… thanks, Principal… I don’t mind,” Bai Ci mumbled, still slumped, though inwardly she cared a lot.