Chapter 8: Consequences

After a long nap, the sky slowly brightened.

Bai Ci opened her eyes, rolled over, and closed them again.

No matter where she was, early to bed and early to rise felt wrong.

Not sleeping until she naturally woke up was pure torture.

Around nine, she dragged herself out of bed, washed up, got dressed, and headed to grab some food.

Passing Odin Plaza, a stray bullet from who-knows-where hit her chest, bursting into a brilliant red flower.

She barely had time to react before the powerful anesthetic in the Frigga bullet knocked her out.

So, she slept on Odin Plaza all day until sunset, when medics gave her a shot to wake her.

She opened her eyes to see Lu Mingfei striking a ridiculous pose, hands gripping a Barrett, with Chu Zihang and Caesar sprawled on the ground, apparently taken out by him…

Huh?

What happened?

Lu Mingfei locked eyes with her, and Bai Ci’s mind was a fog of confusion.

What the hell went down?

How did Lu Mingfei go on a rampage?

She started to wonder if he was schizophrenic, like Diavolo from JoJo—two personalities in one.

One a cowardly kid who could barely do anything.

The other a domineering lunatic who could do everything.

Or maybe he just got a rush of adrenaline and one-shotted Chu Zihang and Caesar?

But it clicked fast—Lu Mingfei was S-grade.

Taking down a couple of A-grades was child’s play, right?

Like in games: a starting S-tier or five-star, six-star character always outshines A-tier or four-star, five-star ones.

Never underestimate an S-grade.

Lu Mingfei was the only S-grade in the college, just like Principal Anghot, also S-grade.

If Anghot joined Free Day, wiping out Chu Zihang and Caesar would be like squashing chicks.

Same deal for Lu Mingfei—Anghot = Lu Mingfei > Caesar + Chu Zihang.

For him, it was probably as easy as nodding.

Suddenly, it made perfect sense.

The two on the ground must’ve underestimated S-grade power and paid the price.

Lu Mingfei’s mouth twitched.

Big sis, you were lying there with dried blood, eyes glazed, barely breathing, looking half-dead.

Now you’re up, all lively, staring at me with that confused look?

You think I took those two out for who?

He glanced at Chu Zihang.

Earlier, the guy had called his name—kind of touching, really.

The legendary Chu Zihang knew his name, maybe even followed him?

If he told his high school buddies, they’d be jealous as hell.

What would a normal meeting be like?

Would fate’s gears start turning, the two of them clicking instantly, rushing into a tearful embrace in Odin Plaza?

Yeah, right.

Was Chu Zihang anything like him?

Lu Mingfei was speechless.

Who knew this was just a game?

As he smacked his lips, ready to speak, a voice cut him off.

“S-grade freshman Lu Mingfei, you there?

Picked your classes yet?

Did you choose my Intro to Dragon Clan Genealogy?” the principal’s voice echoed around.

Students’ eyes widened, whispers spreading.

“I… I picked it,” Lu Mingfei said timidly.

He had no choice—Professor Guderian had taken the phone from Professor Manstein and shoved it in his face.

“Glad to hear your voice.

Taking out Caesar and Chu Zihang on your first day?

I’m looking forward to meeting you in class.

Outdo the last S-grade student!” The principal hung up.

Lu Mingfei scratched his head, confused.

Outdo the last S-grade?

The one who shot himself over philosophy?

What, blow himself up with a cannon?

Suddenly, the air felt colder.

He glanced around—everyone’s eyes were on him, cold and hostile.

His heart raced.

What the hell?

Why’s everyone staring?

All I did was fire a few shots and blast Chu Zihang and some blond guy who only had melee weapons.

Ten steps away, a gun’s fast and accurate—normal, right?

He swallowed hard, wanting to bolt but not knowing where to.

Then a smooth, pale hand grabbed his.

His heart fluttered, but seeing the familiar face, he felt awkward being pulled by a girl.

Still, his pulse quickened.

“Let’s go,” the girl said, tugging him forward.

“Where to?” Lu Mingfei asked.

“To eat!”

Bai Ci shot him a look.

I haven’t eaten all day, from morning to afternoon!

“Anghot, you know why I called this board meeting,” Frost said. “I heard we’ve got a new S-grade student from China?”

“Oh, you mean Lu Mingfei?

He’s exceptional,” Anghot said casually, clearly unbothered. “Finding an S-grade freshman is my achievement.

The college hasn’t had one in decades.

You should thank me for spotting him first.

If another hybrid family got him, you’d lose sleep.

We all know how vital an S-grade is.”

“If he’s truly S-grade, that’s your credit,” Frost shook his head. “But I hear you made his initial bloodline assessment.”

“You think I’d fake an S-grade?” Anghot looked surprised. “This afternoon, Lu Mingfei took a Barrett and blasted Caesar and Chu Zihang.”

“Pure luck!” Frost snapped. “You’re handing out S-grade status like candy.

Even a random high schooler gets it?

I’ve got his high school records—nothing shows awakened dragon blood.

An ordinary kid in this college, with S-grade privileges?

How can the board trust that?”

Anghot sipped his coffee, unfazed. “He’s definitely S-grade.

I’m certain.”

“Anghot!”

“Enough, Frost.

If you called this emergency meeting just for an S-grade rating, I’d question if you’re bored out of your mind,” Anghot said.

Frost went quiet, then spoke slowly. “Fine, let’s talk about… your [Kui Gate Project].”

“I’ve submitted the reports.

Without them, the Monyach wouldn’t be in the Yangtze River now.

Everything else is easy to check.

Need me to repeat it?”

“You should’ve told the board sooner!”

“No way.

I wanted you to find out late,” Anghot leaned back, shaking his head. “Otherwise, you’d meddle, adding people not on the Executive Department’s list.”

Frost’s voice grew heavy. “That’s just necessary oversight!”

“Oversight?

For your power grab?

Your ambition?” Anghot’s tone hardened. “We can negotiate other things, but not dragon-slaying.

No one’s sticking their hands in that.”

Anghot wouldn’t let them interfere.

Cassel students fought to the death on dragon-slaying battlefields, but some leeched off their blood like parasites.

As principal, he wouldn’t let his students be exploited.

“You must submit a full report to the board first!

Cassel isn’t yours alone, Anghot!”

“Is it the Gattuso family’s then?”

Anghot was done with the small talk.

Frost’s brows knit tightly. “I don’t agree with you.

The board won’t interfere, but all gains must be held by us.”

Anghot laughed.

“No gains yet, and you’re already itching to divvy up the spoils?”

If it was really a First-Generation dragon tomb, its value was unimaginable.

“But we need to plan ahead,” Frost said.

A Dragon King egg could hold limitless potential—for serums, boosting hybrid ranks, or even greater profit.

“You know, Frost, I’m tired of this,” Anghot smiled. “Right now, I should be in Paris, sunbathing, sipping wine, with pretty Parisian girls rubbing sunscreen on me, smoking a cigar.

But you dragged me to Italy, cutting my wine short.

If this meeting ends quick, I can fly back to Paris.

So, this topic’s done.

Whatever we find in the ‘dragon tomb’ stays at the college.

The ice vault’s the best defense system, and the Equipment Department’s the top research facility—perfect to maximize its value.”

His tone left no room for argument.

He walked out, leaving Frost fuming.

“You know what you did today?” Bai Ci asked, eating plain rice.

“I didn’t do much.

Got a bit excited, bullets flying.

Wouldn’t you defend yourself?” Lu Mingfei protested.

“Self-defense is fine,” Bai Ci sipped her soup. “But the two you took down? That’s the problem.”

“Huh?

What’s the issue?”

“Taking them out here is like assassinating Japan’s prime minister with a homemade gun.

Your name’s gonna spread across campus by tomorrow.”

Bai Ci said calmly.

“That bad?”

Lu Mingfei hesitated.

“Yup, that bad.”

Bai Ci finished her soup. “Wanna walk around with me?”

“Uh?

Sure.”

Lu Mingfei scarfed down the last piece of braised pork, wiped the grease from his mouth, and followed her out of the dining hall.