Dragon Clan: Avoid the College Entrance Examination to Slay the Dragon

Chapter 47 Killing the Demon (Part 1)

"So it has been confirmed that its spirit is the King's Servant?" Caesar glanced at Walker. The humming sound of the air-conditioning vents behind him was particularly clear in the enclosed space.

"We're not completely sure. We're making our guess based on the audio before the last victim died. This is the recording of that audio—" Walker opened his phone and started playing an audio clip.

The rustling sound of electricity suddenly ripped through the silence, and the girl's scream pierced the eardrums of everyone present: "My name is Emma! Number 13 Red Maple Lane! Something is killing people! It killed Mom and Dad, but Mom is still moving! And still chasing me!"

Walker pressed the pause button, and the girl's broken voice came to an abrupt end.

"But according to the on-site investigation by the Executive Bureau," Caesar flipped open the ink-smelling autopsy report, "there are indeed twelve fresh scratches from the living room to the girl's bedroom, consistent with rapid movement of a living being. However, no signs of movement were ultimately found. The only evidence is that the mother's remains were found in the girl's room."

"Yes, but the police who arrived earlier didn't operate in a standardized manner, which greatly damaged the scene." Walker pulled up forensic photos, which showed a lumbar vertebra that had been eaten away to the point of being only halfway down. "Also, the murderer devoured all evidence proving the effects of the Word Spirit, including my mother's remains."

Gu Yi suddenly closed the "Periodic Table of Word Spirits," the hardcover spine thudding against the table. "The textbook says the King's Servant can only manipulate adrenaline from living beings, and generally requires that the living being be relatively unhostile to the Word Spirit user. So why can this Carl even manipulate corpses?"

"When the concentration of dragon blood exceeds a critical value, the Word Spirit will mutate." Walker pointed to the blue-gray monster in the photo. "And the effectiveness and strength of the Word Spirit are linked to the user's bloodline. Ancient texts record that a noble dragon prince used his royal servants to command the corpses of 30,000 fallen soldiers to capture the city of Uruk."

"Which Dragon King is it?"

"It is a pity that history does not record His name."

"Okay, then can his royal servants control us?" Caesar pushed the autopsy report to the corner of the table.

Walker glanced at the two of them. "It's difficult for the King's Servant to manipulate targets that are hostile to him, and it's also difficult to have an effect on targets of high bloodline. It's not unreasonable for the principal to assign you two as the main attack."

"I understand." Gu Yi nodded, "Then I will take the lead..."

"Don't jump to conclusions." Walker suddenly interrupted him, "The other party could be some other unknown word spirit."

"You are still hiding something." Caesar suddenly showed his white teeth, it was a cold smile.

"There's no concrete evidence, only suspicion." Walker and Caesar exchanged glances. "The officers who arrived early were behaving in a somewhat unusual manner. We're still investigating."

"It's really irrational." Caesar spread his hands. "Chicago's crime rate is quite high. Police shouldn't make such a low-level mistake when facing a serial murder scene."

"So you must be careful. We will intervene if necessary."

-

It glided past the eaves like a misshapen gecko, its scales scraping against the tiles with a teeth-grinding sound. The darkness of the entire street poured into my eyes like asphalt. There was no television light, no babies crying, even the sound of overturned trash cans was gone. This was wrong, this was terribly wrong.

The scales on the back of his neck suddenly tightened like needles, and some ancient instinct screamed in his brain. But his chaotic thoughts were torn apart by fragments of memory—a woman's twisted face emerged from the phone receiver, her scarlet lips spitting venom: "You and your poisonous father should die together! Don't interfere with my life!"

Its claws dug unconsciously into the concrete, and the bony tail of its spine slapped the wall irritably.

"Mom, Mom!" A roar laced with blood and foam rolled from her throat, saliva streaming like silver threads between her fangs. The thirst for blood seared her internal organs like a branding iron, something within this body gnawing at the last vestiges of sanity. Those happy smiles must be torn apart, just as she tore apart my life.

The scent of sunken wood wafted into his nostrils, echoing from the blue house with the wind chimes. The memory of standing at the door with a delivery box in his arms suddenly became clear, before his nails had grown barbs and his knuckles could still ring the doorbell. He remembered the aroma of baking apple pie wafting from the house, the silvery laughter of a little girl piercing his eardrums.

Just like the bastard child she gave birth to with the new man.

Like her new home, like all homes that should be torn apart.

The sharp claws pierced the door like rice paper, and sawdust fell in a rustling sound. It was particularly crisp in the silence, and there was darkness inside.

A sudden stinging pain shot through Chaos's brain, as if a branding iron were rolling across his nerves. His rotting brain nerves finally sounded the alarm, but the boiling dragon blood had already taken over his body.

Two male scents. Wait, why male? No family photos on the dining table, no teddy bears in the children's room, this is not right, this is not right, this is not right—

Golden eyes ignited in the darkness. The black-haired boy sat upright on the sofa, a sword in its sheath, the ancient blade across his knees gleaming with moonlight. A shudder deep within his blood caused his scales to burst. Not fear, but greed. Crushing his bones! Drinking his spinal cord! Would this make him... whole?

"You're here." The young man's voice was as clear as the sound of a knife.

Its throat ribs made a grinding sound like rusty gears: "Who are you..."

The cold light of the unsheathed Miao Dao cut through the darkness. "What about you? Carl Miller? Or a beast controlled by instinct?"

The distant name of Karl Miller clashed within his skull. Memories flashed back to the cold sensation of a syringe thrust into his vein, the sharp pain of his father's bottle smashing against his brow, and the gilded smile on his mother's wedding invitation.

"Roar--!"

The sudden burst of golden light outside the window was like a divine punishment. Alchemical runes spread wildly along the cracks in the ground, weaving a cage on the dome.

The blond nobleman stood in the center of the waterfall, the hunting knife in his hand reflecting the trajectory of the matrix: "The alchemical matrix is ​​done, cut it!"

The moment the golden eyes met the golden eyes, it urged the power surging in its blood vessels, but its power collided with some higher-level pressure, like a wild dog baring its fangs at a lion king.

The moment it retreated, a fishy wind whipped up, but the young man's speed was even faster. Before the shriek of the air being torn apart by the blade reached his eardrums, the magnificent golden color had already filled his entire field of vision.

The crisp sound of shattering scales took a half-second to explode. A chill ran down its cervical spine, and by the time it realized it was the blade slicing into flesh, the violent impact had already sent its body flying. Amidst the excruciating pain of shattering the plaster wall, those golden eyes still burned on its retina, like a branding iron carving a mark on a nerve ending.

Moonlight poured down from the hole in the wall, and the arc of light created when the boy sheathed his knife was like a galaxy falling. It curled up in the ruins and twitched, and a certain stabbing pain suddenly penetrated its chaotic consciousness.

In the cracked mirror of the drug rehabilitation center, the pale young man who was vomiting raised his head. His turbid blue eyes reflected the boiling, imperial gold in the boy's pupils through the dust on the mirror.

(End of this chapter)