Vol2 Chapter 47: End
Bai Ci watched as Xia Mi dashed into her dorm, dove under the covers, and buried her head.
What’s she doing? Cosplaying an ostrich?
Also, this isn’t even her dorm, so why’s she shoving her head in my blankets? Bai Ci wanted to ask what she was up to, but Xia Mi was wriggling like a maggot, making weird “hmph~ hmph hmph~” noises, acting like a total lunatic. It made Bai Ci hesitate to approach.
“Xia… Xia Mi, what’s going on?”
Xia Mi shot up, flinging the blanket to the floor. She turned, flashing a goofy grin, her entire vibe transformed, like she was floating in an ocean of pink bubbles, hearts practically popping out of her forehead.
“Senior Brother… he kissed me!”
Bai Ci, midway through removing the quilt cover, turned to her with an “oh,” stuffed the cover in the washing machine, waited three seconds, then shot up, staring at Xia Mi in disbelief. “You’re saying the president kissed you?!”
“Yup~”
Xia Mi’s voice was as soft as cotton candy. Bai Ci studied her—she didn’t seem to be lying. The usual Xia Mi wasn’t like this. That lively, mischievous little witch had turned into a shy, mushy girl. This wasn’t right!
Who are you? Get off Xia Mi!
So Chu Zihang really kissed her? That emotionless, monk-like, conversation-killing, stone-faced president actually kissed Xia Mi? Had he finally woken up?
“Congrats,” Bai Ci said, smiling, eyeing her curiously. Was this really Xia Mi’s personality? Wasn’t she supposed to be the bold one, always teasing Chu Zihang? How was she the one flustered now after a kiss?
“Is it worth getting that excited?”
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s Chu Zihang! I melted that iceberg! No one else in the world could do it but me!” Xia Mi puffed out her chest proudly. “Don’t you think that’s a huge achievement, Senior Sister?”
“Impressive.”
Bai Ci clapped lightly. “What’re we eating today?”
Zero, napping nearby, perked up her ears…
“Sorry, Senior Sister, I’m eating with Senior Brother today. That month of lunches I promised you—we’ll figure it out later. Bye!”
Xia Mi stuck out her tongue, made an apologetic gesture, and bolted.
Zero sighed and went back to sleep. No food? Fine, nap time!
Bai Ci waved dismissively, grabbed the quick-washed quilt cover, and headed out to dry it.
Meanwhile, Lu Mingfei was bragging to freshmen. He’d come a long way—Cassell even had a Lu Mingfei fan club now.
You could be handsomer, richer, or better-born, but once the title of Dragon-Slaying Hero was slapped on, everything else was irrelevant. Money? Status? Looks? All nonsense!
At Cassell, a Dragon-Slaying Hero was the ultimate badass.
And that title owed a lot to Fingel. Every freshman had heard his epic tales of how the heroic S-rank hacked through thorns, battled evil dragons, and saved two damsels in distress and the Lionheart president!
In Fingel’s version, Lu Mingfei woke earlier than roosters, slept later than dogs, trained or studied constantly, sleeping just three or four hours. Sometimes he’d spend all day in the library without returning. “You seen Chicago at 4 a.m.?” Fingel would say. “Lu Mingfei has, often. He worked so hard to stand on the dragon-slaying battlefield, to be everyone’s shield, to avoid regretting failure, crying ‘I couldn’t do anything!’ He’s actually a gentle soul.”
He understood an S-rank’s duty—like Spider-Man: With great power comes great responsibility.
Fingel would tear up, sobbing, “I’ve never seen such a heroic man! When the enraged Dragon King ravaged Nibelungen, when my comrades fell, when even I, his trusted senior, couldn’t hold on, Lu Mingfei looked at me with tears and said, ‘Don’t worry, Senior Brother, I’ll end this. Even if I die, I’ll drag those evil dragons to hell!’ His voice was a lion’s roar. Even with his allies down, bleeding and battered, he charged the Dragon King again and again. Seeing his lone figure swinging his sword, I knew—he didn’t plan to come back alive… But I’m his senior! I couldn’t let him die in front of me—that’d be my shame!”
In the end, with Fingel’s “valiant aid,” they defeated the Dragon King, embracing and laughing, a glorious victory.
Except Lu Mingfei didn’t see a trace of Fingel in Nibelungen!
Oh, he did eventually—Fingel showed up with a KFC bag over his head, driving a train to pick them up, only to be recognized by Bai Ci.
When the three unconscious fighters woke, it was confirmed Lu Mingfei slew the Dragon King, cementing his hero status.
Thus, they became the Dragon-Slaying Five: Lu Mingfei as the main carry, Fingel as secondary, the others as support tools.
The story grew wilder—Lu Mingfei battling bloodily, Fingel giving his all, the other three as roadside props, easily crushed by Fenrir.
So freshmen came asking, “Senior Brother, did you really kill Fenrir?”
“Of course,” Lu Mingfei said. “A few swings, and he was done. Couldn’t even move. Fenrir was too weak, honestly—pretty easy.”
“Awesome! Senior Brother, how’d you get those gorgeous seniors to eat late-night snacks with you?”
“It’s all about charisma, strength, and charm. I’ve got them locked down. They’re just smitten by my overpowering presence.”
“Badass! Senior Brother, we heard you used to be a simp—is that true?”
“Totally. Who doesn’t have a cringey past? But now I’m out of her league. She came to Beijing recently, saw me, and straight-up cried, I’m telling you.”
Look at that S-rank swagger, that S-rank grandeur! No wonder he’s the guy who slays Dragon Kings!
Then Lu Mingfei’s luck ran out.
When Angers insisted on rating him S-rank, the Academy was skeptical, whispering that the old man might be hiding a secret son. But his multiple dragon-slaying feats and terrifying presence at the hearing proved his S-rank was legit, with limitless potential.
In his second week back, after a 30-second discussion, the Academy decided Lu Mingfei would join the Executive Department as an intern in his sophomore year.
Like Chu Zihang, he’d be snatched up by the Executive Department in his second year, destined to jet around the world.
Damn it, are they sending me to my death?!
Lu Mingfei accepted the honor, tears in his eyes. Refuse, and his image was ruined. Accept, and he’d likely die on some mission.
Oh no, I bragged too hard! I’m not Taro, I’m just a Teddy! Am I heading to the gallows with a fiery heart? I’m too young to die! Can I still back out?