I'm in the Dragon Clan, bound to the Naruto Counterattack System

Chapter 161 Execution Squad

The piercing fire alarm finally stopped.

The corridor of the laboratory building was filled with a pungent, burnt smell, mixed with the chemical odor of fire extinguishing powder, making people's throats itch.

The school workers had already set up yellow warning tape and were using large water pipes to wash the charred walls near the elevator shaft, with sewage mixed with ash flowing freely on the ground.

Outside the police cordon, a large crowd of students had gathered to watch the spectacle.

"Have you heard? The elevator shaft was haunted, and it exploded!"

"What ghost story? I heard from upperclassmen that someone was conducting illegal alchemy experiments inside, and it got out of control."

"No, no, I think I just saw a dark figure dart out from inside. It was incredibly fast, it wasn't human at all!"

Various versions of campus ghost stories spread rapidly among the crowd, casting an eerie, urban legend-like veil over the chaotic accident scene.

These young mixed-race individuals are energetic and imaginative. In their words, an ordinary accident quickly transforms into a mysterious event worthy of being featured on the science program "Approaching Science".

When Chu Zihang came out of the old teacher's office, this was the chaotic scene he saw.

He gave the professor a detailed report on the situation inside the laboratory, and after confirming that no students had been seriously injured, he returned alone.

He walked expressionlessly through the chattering crowd, seemingly oblivious to the curious or admiring glances directed at him.

He stopped in front of the police line.

A school worker responsible for maintaining order saw him and was about to speak to drive him away, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw the dark pupils in him, and he swallowed back the words that were about to come out.

Chu Zihang ignored everyone.

He bent down and crawled under the cordon, heading straight for the completely destroyed elevator shaft.

A wave of heat mixed with moisture hit us.

The internal structure of the elevator shaft has been completely exposed, and the scene is shocking.

The heavy metal door was torn open from the inside out by a brute force, its edges curling irregularly, like a soda can being ripped open by a giant's bare hands.

The high-strength steel beams used for fixing inside the well wall were now twisted at an angle that defied the laws of physics, and were covered with torn gaps.

It wasn't an explosion.

Chu Zihang instantly came to a conclusion.

The explosion caused widespread damage, leaving behind a large number of small shrapnel fragments and impact marks, something he was very familiar with, having frequently used Junyan for demolition.

All of this seems to be caused by some kind of directed physical force.

He walked around the wreckage of the elevator car, which was still emitting black smoke, squatted down, and stretched out his finger to gently touch a deep scratch on the ground.

The cold, metallic touch came through my fingertips.

His gaze slowly moved upwards, finally landing at the other end of the corridor.

The direction of the women's restroom.

An idea took clear shape in his mind.

Not long ago, he stood at the entrance of the women's restroom, waiting motionless like a pervert for a full fifteen minutes.

He was calculating the time.

For a normal girl, even when dealing with complex physiological issues, fifteen minutes is more than enough.

But he didn't wait for anyone to come out of that door.

The timing of this sabotage now perfectly overlaps with the time when Xia Mi left the laboratory.

coincidence?

Coincidences may exist in the world.

But when two suspicious points point precisely to the same person, it is no longer a coincidence, but a clue.

Chu Zihang slowly stood up and patted the dust off his hands.

He glanced once more at the jagged, torn elevator shaft, then turned and left the scene silently.

Some things have gone beyond the scope of what the preparatory class teaching assistants can handle.

He needs to report to the college headquarters.

Kassel College Main Campus, Information Processing Center.

This is one of the central hubs of the Secret Service's global intelligence network. The only sound echoing within the vast circular space is the low hum of the running servers.

On hundreds of huge screens, massive streams of data from all over the world are being refreshed every second.

Every piece of information could determine the success or failure of a dragon-slaying mission, or even the life or death of an executive officer.

A Level 3 accident report from the preparatory class in the capital city was automatically displayed by the system.

The report's title is simple: "Preliminary Investigation Report on the Accidental Damage to the Elevator Shaft of the Laboratory Building."

The executive officer in charge of monitoring this area was a young man of German descent named Hans.

He listlessly picked up a cup of coffee and opened the report.

What serious things could happen in a preparatory class?

It was nothing more than some freshman's Word of Power going out of control and setting the curtains on fire, or blowing up a few test tubes in alchemy class. He thought to himself as he quickly skimmed through the report's text description.

"The initial assessment of the damage indicates it was caused by a non-explosive physical impact."

No traces of gold-plated explosives were found at the scene.

"—The cause of the accident is under further investigation—"

Hans pursed his lips; he had to read hundreds of these bureaucratic documents every day.

He casually clicked on the on-site photos in the report's attachments.

The next second, the lazy expression on his face froze instantly.

The photos are high-resolution, clearly showing every detail of the damage inside the elevator shaft.

Hans suddenly brought his face close to the screen, almost touching it.

He stared intently at the twisted steel beams and the tear marks on the well walls that could not have been caused by human hands.

This destructive form—

He felt his heart begin to beat faster and faster uncontrollably.

He quickly started typing on the control panel in front of him, bringing up the internal database of the executive department.

This is a top-secret database containing all the information ever recorded by the Secret Service.

And the Dragon King's information was successfully recorded.

Hans entered a few keywords.

Tearing, metal twisting.

The system provides hundreds of matching results within one second.

Hans took a deep breath and began to compare them one by one.

His fingers flew across the holographic projection, displaying images of the Word of Power alongside photos of the accident scene.

"That's not it----"

"No, it's not that either—"

"This is somewhat similar, but the power level doesn't match—"

Time passed by, second by second.

When he opened file number 087, his pupils suddenly contracted.

Those are ancient records of Attila, praising the power of the "Scourge of God" in poetry, and the scenes described in the poems are almost identical to the damage caused by the elevator in the preparatory class.

Hans felt a cold sweat break out on his back, and his fingers trembled slightly.

Without the slightest hesitation, he immediately upgraded the Level 3 report from the preparatory class to Level S.

He quickly attached his analysis and database comparison results to the report, and then selected encrypted direct delivery.

There is only one recipient's name.

von Schneider.

Minister of the Executive Department.

The lights were off in Schneider's office.

The only light source came from the huge floor-to-ceiling screen in front of him.

The report that Hans had just submitted was quietly displayed on the screen.

Schneider's face was hidden in the shadows, his expression obscured, with only the embers of the cigar between his fingers flickering.

He had been staring at the screen for a full five minutes.

From the on-site photos sent from the capital to Hans's well-organized yet incredibly alarming analysis.

The report's ultimate target was marked by the system in bold, blood-red font.

There were signs of activity from a high-ranking dragon. The office was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, with only the sound of the computer fans blowing air. After a long while, Schneider slowly raised his hand and picked up a black telephone without any buttons on the table.

The call was answered after three seconds, and a gentle, aged voice came from the other end.

"Schneider, it's so late, is there some kind of emergency?"

"Principal," Schneider said in a hoarse voice.

"Regarding the preparatory class in the capital, we may need to send an executive department team to take a look."

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