Dragon Clan: My Dad is Ange

She opened her arms to block Ye Fan, her red skirt rising like a flag. She could hear the sound of fabric tearing, but the expected pain never came.

A drop of blood hit the marble floor and blossomed into a tiny red plum.

Su Xiaoqiang looked up and saw Ye Fan's palm across in front of her, his five fingers gripping the blade like iron pliers.

Blood trickled down his wrist, forming dark red beads on his cuffs. The waiter's ferocious expression froze on his face, the dagger seemingly welded to Ye Fan's palm, unable to move forward or backward.

"Close your eyes." Ye Fan said.

His voice was soft, but it made Su Xiaoqiang shudder. That wasn't the familiar, lazy-tongued senior she was familiar with, but something older and colder.

She obeyed the order subconsciously, and the moment her eyelashes drooped, she heard a crisp snap of fingers.

Time Zero unfolds.

In the forty-fold speed range, the splashing wine hung in the air, and the students' shocked expressions solidified into masks.

Ye Fan's golden eyes lit up in the shadows, and a crystal-like texture spread from the edge of his pupils.

The wound on the palm of his hand healed at a speed visible to the naked eye, and the new flesh and blood pushed the dagger out, and it fell to the ground with a clang.

Mirror pupil is activated.

Su Xiaoqiang felt cold fingers caressing her temple. Ye Fan's face was close at hand, his golden eyes gleaming with star-like light.

Ye Fan stood up and stood on the table. As he moved, even in the realm of zero time, all the classmates slowly and firmly turned their heads towards him.

It's like looking up at the supreme king.

Those crystal-like eyes shone with a faint light, and Ye Fan said calmly: "Nothing happened just now, the banquet is still going on."

The king's words came like an oracle!

The words penetrated the eardrums and left marks on the brain nerves.

Everyone's eyes were distracted for a moment, but quickly regained clarity. The words had taken effect; this was the right of the Supreme Emperor.

Ye Fan picked up the waiter by the back of his collar and walked towards the bathroom like dragging a bag of garbage.

The domain of time zero expanded as he moved, and wherever he passed, even the dust stood still.

The moment the compartment door closed, the waiter suddenly struggled violently, his eyeballs bulged out, and white foam came out of the corners of his mouth - he was trying to bite off the poison sac hidden between his molars.

"Forget it." Ye Fan pinched his chin, the light from his mirror pupil piercing into his pupils, "From Kowloon Walled City?"

The waiter's mental defenses were like a paper wall, crumbling under the pressure of the royal hybrid.

Fragments of memory flooded back: a stilt house deep in the mountains of Yunnan, a shrine enshrining a bronze dragon head, a young man known as "Big Young Master" roaring into his cell phone, "Revenge for my second brother!"

"I see."

Ye Fan let go of his hand.

The waiter—or rather, the eldest son of Kowloon Walled City—collapsed on the ground, his pupils dilated. The excessive reading of the mirror pupils had burned his brain, and black blood oozed from his mouth and nose.

Even though he was a B-class hybrid, his head was still turned into a paste under the unreserved impact of the Emperor-class hybrid's mental power.

Another snap of the fingers.

Jun Yan's red flame leaped out from his fingertips and licked the corpse.

The high temperature vaporized the flesh and blood into a light red mist, and the bones curled up into gray slag in the fire.

Ye Fan turned on the exhaust fan and watched the last wisp of smoke and dust being sucked away, as if this person had never existed.

In the mirror on the sink, the golden pupils gradually faded. He took out his cell phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Mom, I'm staying at a friend's house tonight." He paused, "Okay, I'll be back tomorrow morning."

Ye Weiwei's nagging voice on the other end of the phone made him smile slightly.

After hanging up, he pulled out an eight-sided Han sword from the badminton bag he was carrying.

Under the light, the Blood Drink glowed with the unique blue-black luster of bronze, and the dark red blood groove on the sword's spine looked like an unhealed scar.

The wind on the hotel rooftop was very strong.

Ye Fan stood at the edge of the railing, his golden eyes lit up again.

When Word Spirit: Sword Control was activated, the Blood Drinker emitted a clear humming sound and hovered in front of him. The night wind blew the hem of his clothes, making it look like a general's battle robe.

"Forty times the speed."

Time zero full on.

The world in his eyes turned into slow motion frames: the traffic on the street below froze into light bands, and the neon lights of billboards flickered at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Ye Fan stepped onto the sword, and the bronze sword carried him up into the sky, tearing through the thick night.

The wind pressure made the clothes rustle.

The city below spread out like a miniature model. Blood Drink cut through the clouds, and wherever the sword pointed, ripples appeared in the air.

The murderous intent in the emperor's golden eyes surged like magma. The traitors who angered him will face the final judgment tonight!

In the dark universe, satellites overlook the blue planet, and the electronic eyes in orbit faithfully record every anomaly.

In the central control room of Kassel Academy, a holographic projection of a girl is suspended in the data stream.

EVA's pupils suddenly contracted, and tens of thousands of warning messages exploded on her retina - 25° north latitude, 103° east longitude, a heat source is moving rapidly in a way that violates the laws of physics!

"Mach 5...Mach 9...Mach 11!" EVA's voice was filled with rare fluctuations, "and it's still accelerating!"

She instantly retrieved surveillance data from thirty-six satellites. The high-definition camera pierced through the clouds, capturing the azure light tearing through the night sky.

That was not the tail flame of a missile, but the glow of an eight-sided Han sword rubbing against the air.

The figure standing on the sword had his clothes fluttering, and his golden eyes left a burning trail in the night.

"Headmaster Angers."

The EVA projection appeared in the principal's office, "An unusual target appeared in the sky above China."

An old gramophone was playing an aria from Turandot. The silver-haired old man put down his whiskey glass, cigar smoke curling between his fingers.

The giant screen on the wall lit up, and the blurry satellite image gradually became clear amid the smoke-like noise.

The realm of time zero unfolded, and Ange saw the scene clearly.

"Zoom in to frame seven."

Ange said suddenly.

The image freezes.

In the outline composed of pixels, the figure of the young man walking on the sword looks like an ancient sword immortal.

Although the image quality was as crude as a medieval oil painting, the pair of burning golden eyes penetrated all technical limitations and left two blazing spots of light on the display screen.

Ange's fingers hung in the air, and the ashes of the cigar fell down.

No matter how blurry the picture is, a father can definitely recognize his child.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

The old man's laughter suddenly broke the silence. He laughed exaggeratedly and grabbed the crystal bottle on the table and took a gulp:

"Good boy! You are worthy of being my son, Ange! Even Zhang Sanfeng of ancient China might not be able to achieve this level of sword control!"

The EVA's projection flickered. "Do you need to dispatch an execution team? The target destination is the Yunnan border."

"Let those kids die?"

Ange wiped the wine from his beard:

"Notify Professor Guderian and have him disembark from that civilian airliner immediately. I'll give him the privilege of riding on the Sleipnir-shaped aircraft. Tell him that the S-rank freshman he's been dreaming of is heading to Yunnan to demolish ancestral graves."

"Have him rush over to help clean up the mess. Our school's future S-class student can't have even the slightest stain on him!"

Chapter 56 The Emperor is coming, and what he wants is a river of blood!

The night in Kowloon Walled City always comes quickly and heavily.

The old village chief Mo sat on the armchair in the middle hall, and the sandalwood armrests were rubbed shiny by his fingers like dry branches.

Ninety years had carved grooves into the body of this A-rank hybrid, but they had failed to extinguish the fire in those golden eyes.

At this moment, the pair of pupils were trembling slightly, reflecting the shattered life tablet on the table. This was an alchemical creation unique to Kowloon Walled City, which could be used to help people inside understand the physical condition of the tribesmen who were away.

But now all 11 life cards were broken, even his eldest grandson, whom he had high hopes for, was dead.

"How long have they been gone?" the old man's voice was hoarse, like a rusty knife scraping across a grindstone.

The young man standing in the shadows shuddered: "They've been gone for 12 days."

"It took 10 days to get there, so they were all dead in two days?"

The old man suddenly coughed, blood seeping from between his fingers, "That Ye Fan is indeed S-level, only an S-level can do such a thing!"

"Will he come, great-grandfather?" the young man asked in a trembling voice.

He was only a C-rank hybrid, and even a B-rank hybrid was enough for him to look up to. From birth to now, he had only seen two A-rank hybrids: his great-grandfather and second grandfather.

And now he knew that they, Kowloon Walled City, had offended an S-level person. He couldn't even imagine how angry the other party would be.

"Don't worry, even if he is S-level, he still can't leave Kowloon Walled City." The old man patted the young man's shoulder to comfort him.

"Although the bloodlines of you younger generations are a bit thin, you can still improve your bloodlines in a short period of time with the help of boiling blood."

"Although the number of people who have awakened their bloodlines in Kowloon Walled City over the years is small, there are still more than 200 of them accumulated. Even if he is S-level, he can't defeat a hundred alone!"

"Furthermore, our village's accumulation over the past thousand years is not in vain. Our ancestors were truly royal nobles. Thanks to the grace of our ancestors, at least this time it won't be considered a crisis."

The hall suddenly fell into silence.

The bronze dragon head on the altar glowed green in the candlelight, and the nine jade beads held in the dragon's mouth had long since lost their luster.

Old Village Chief Mo remembered how his father showed him the village's biggest secret when he took over seventy years ago.

Behind the thirty-meter-high bronze gate in the belly of the mountain lies an alchemical dragon made from the corpse of a complete second-generation species.

"Only by obtaining the 'Nine Dragon Sons' can our village prosper for a hundred years."

The old man suddenly stood up, his hunched back making a sound as if he couldn't bear the heavy burden:

"Our Kowloon Walled City was once so glorious. At its peak, it boasted ten A-rank masters. But now, your bloodline is so thin that even the Word Spirit cannot be awakened!"