Dragon Clan: My Dad is Ange

This is not a top-level S-class thing at all, it's clearly a humanoid dragon!

Chapter 113: If we don’t go crazy, Los Angeles will become old

The dusk in Chicago dyed Lake Michigan red. In front of the Greyhound bus station, Old Tang leaned against an old Ford pickup truck, grinning and waving at Ye Fan.

"Lao Fan! Here!"

He was wearing a faded denim jacket and an exaggerated gold chain around his neck, looking like a second-rate cowboy straight out of a Western movie.

Ye Fan walked over, threw his backpack into the back seat, and said with a smile: "Is your car still running? Don't let it fall apart halfway."

"Hey, don't look down on my 'Lightning'!"

Old Tang patted the steering wheel, and the engine let out a lingering roar. "This old guy has been with me in the United States for five years. He's more reliable than some people!"

Ye Fan smiled and shook his head, took out his cell phone and made a video call to Lu Mingfei.

On the other side of the screen, Lu Mingfei's face was squeezed in the halo of the table lamp in the room, and in the background was Lu Mingze sleeping in a sprawled posture.

"Old Tang! Brother Fan!" Lu Mingfei lowered his voice furtively, "My cousin just fell asleep, let's be quiet."

Old Tang came over and grinned, "Luzi! When you come to Chicago, I'll take you on a Greyhound ride and have the most authentic hot dogs in America!"

Lu Mingfei's eyes lit up. "Really? Better than the pig food in the cafeteria?"

"Of course!" Old Tang assured him. "Superdawg, a 72-year-old shop. They serve pure beef hot dogs with golden mustard sauce. The pickles and chili peppers are all secret ingredients. One bite will make you forget the nightmare of the school cafeteria!"

Ye Fan interrupted with a smile: "Don't listen to his boasting. Last time, he took me to eat in his mind through video, and he drank half a bottle of ice water because of the spiciness."

Old Tang objected: "That was an accident! Who knew the chili sauce would be so potent?"

The three of them laughed and joked for a while, and then Old Tang stepped on the accelerator, and the pickup truck wobbled towards Superdawg in the north of Chicago.

As night falls, the neon lights on the street gradually light up. The two 12-foot-tall glowing hot dog statues in front of the hot dog shop are particularly eye-catching. Their bling~bling~ little eyes seem to be mocking every hungry person passing by.

"Super hot dog combo for you two, with double chili sauce!" Old Tang ordered the order familiarly, turning to Ye Fan and winking, "Today I must let you see what the 'Soul of Chicago' is."

When the hot dog was served, Ye Fan raised his eyebrows - the beef sausage sandwiched in the bread was shiny and greasy, piled with pickles, onions and bright red chili sauce, and served with a large box of golden and crispy French fries.

He took a bite, and the spicy sauce instantly exploded on his tongue. The refreshing pickles perfectly neutralized the greasiness.

"How is it?" Old Tang asked proudly.

Ye Fan took a sip of ice cola and nodded: "It's definitely better than the cafeteria."

Old Tang laughed heartily, took out his phone, took a picture of the hot dog, and sent it to Lu Mingfei: "Lu, did you see that? You can have your share when you get here!"

"Damn it! It's 12:15 China time. Do you know how hungry a -year-old is at this hour?"

Lu Mingfei wailed on the other side of the screen:

"You are committing murder! Outright murder!"

After finishing his hot dog, Old Tang mysteriously pulled out a room card and said, "Come on, I'll show you the American nightlife tonight."

Ye Fan raised his eyebrows: "Are you sure you are not taking me to some weird place?"

"What are you thinking!" Old Tang rolled his eyes. "I've booked a hotel suite with super fast internet. Let's play StarCraft with Luzai all night long!"

Half an hour later, in a suite at a hotel in downtown Chicago, Ye Fan, Lao Tang and Lu Mingfei in the video formed a three-person team and frantically operated on the computer screen.

Although there is an ocean between the three of them, the emotional connection between them is still close and warm.

Old Tang's tactics were as reckless as ever, Lu Mingfei was developing cautiously, and Ye Fan...

"Brother Ye, are you cheating? Is this micro-management possible for a human?" Lu Mingfei stared at the battle loss ratio on the screen, stunned.

Ye Fan calmly drank a sip of Coke: "It's just my hand speed."

He couldn't play with Lu Mingfei anymore, and he was too lazy to play with the sea anymore. Once his mirror pupils were turned on, he became the most handsome guy in the history of the game.

I must leave a deep impression on this kid tonight!

Old Tang lamented, "It's over. I'm going to be beaten to death again tonight."

Outside the window, the night view of Chicago is brightly lit, neon billboards between high-rise buildings flicker, and occasionally the sound of sirens comes from far away and then quickly disappears.

Of course, there are also some cries of restless souls.

"Welcome to Los Angeles! Come experience its traditional culture and its breath of freedom! Hehe, if you don't go crazy in Los Angeles, you'll get old~"

Well, Ye Fan’s hearing is quite sensitive due to his royal bloodline, and he can hear every word clearly.

Tonight, in terms of hearing, he can be said to have truly felt the excellent traditional culture of the United States.

Old Tang collapsed on the sofa, chewing on the potato chips provided by the hotel, and mumbled:

"When Luzai gets here, the three of us will go to New York together. I'll take you to Papaya King. Their hot dogs with papaya juice are amazing!"

Lu Mingfei raised his hand on the other side of the screen: "I want a double!"

Ye Fan smiled and looked at the gradually brightening sky outside the window: "Okay, let's go together next time."

When the morning sun shone through the gaps in the curtains, the three of them had been fighting for a full eight hours.

Old Tang was lying on the bed, fast asleep. Lu Mingfei was dozing off with his head tilted in the video. Ye Fan closed his computer, walked to the window, and looked at the city that had just woken up.

It's a Chicago morning, and the air still smells of last night's hot dogs.

But he seemed to have forgotten something. Ye Fan stood in front of the window, scratching his head in confusion.

Guderian told him yesterday that the day of freedom would officially begin at 8:00 this morning, and now the time has reached 7 o'clock.

It would take Ye Fan two hours to get to school by taxi now. Sometimes, an hour is enough to make a drastic change in the battle situation.

Especially when the leader of a faction is indeed very charismatic and has the support of a top family behind him.

Chapter 114 A fierce battle between the Student Council and the Lionheart Society!

At seven in the morning, Kassel College was shrouded in mist. The spires of the Gothic buildings pierced the morning light, and the dewdrops on the lawn reflected diamond-like light.

Cesare Gattuso stood on the terrace of the Amber Pavilion, his long platinum hair flying in the morning breeze, and the flame of fighting spirit dancing in his ice-blue pupils.

"Gentlemen."

His voice was not loud, but it made the two hundred student union members below straighten their backs at the same time:

"For the past three years, we have been rubbed under the thumb of the Lionheart Society."

He slowly raised the Dictator, a sword inherited from the Roman era that shone coldly in the morning light.

"Today, I want everyone to know—" the blade cut through the air, "there is no word 'second' in Gattuso's dictionary!"

His response was a war cry as loud as a tsunami.

Caesar raised the corner of his mouth and took the silver briefcase from the servant.

The moment the lid of the box popped open, the entire square was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop - the neatly stacked black bullets in the box shone with a metallic luster in the sunlight.

"Frigga bullets, costing $800 per round."

Caesar grabbed a handful and let them slip through his fingers:

"For each shot that hits a Lionheart member, the reward is $10. For each shot that hits Beowulf Selina, the reward is $100 million."

The square was in an uproar.

The students in the economics department have already started doing mental arithmetic, while the crazy people in the equipment department are frantically checking guns.

Caesar watched all this with satisfaction, and the hem of his coat drew a sharp arc when he turned around.

"Remember, we are not reckless."

He tapped the tablet, and a three-dimensional map was projected into the air:

"Team A, feint an attack on the clock tower. Team B, cut off the power. Team C, follow me and take the command center—let those bloodline theorists see what modern warfare is all about."

At 7:30, the first gunshot shattered the tranquility of the campus.

At the Lionheart Society headquarters, Beowulf Selina stood in front of the World Tree relief, her white hair falling to her waist like snow.

Her golden eyes were brighter than usual, reflecting the flashing red dots on the tactical screen.

"President!" the deputy rushed in, sweat beads on his forehead. "The student union has gone crazy! They've frozen the east staircase with liquid nitrogen!"

Selina tapped the hilt of the sword with her fingertips.

There were explosions outside the window, and colorful smoke rose from the direction of the library - it was a jamming bomb specially made by the Student Union, containing a trace amount of alchemical matrix that could interfere with the vision of hybrids.

"Where is Caesar?"

Her voice was like an undercurrent beneath the Arctic ice.

"No, I don't know..." The deputy swallowed, "The front line said they saw seven blond men wearing the same windbreaker..."

Selina suddenly smiled, a smile that sent chills down the spines of everyone in the command room.

"Divide the troops into seven routes, and let the real and the fake interact with each other."

As she stood up, the dagger "Twilight of the Gods" hanging at her waist hummed: "As expected of the fox of the Gattuso family."

But she didn't move.

Outside the window, the student union's black combat uniforms were flooding the rose garden like a tide.

According to tradition, juniors are not allowed to directly participate in Freedom Day, which is a stage for freshmen to show themselves.

"Let second-year student Renault lead the counterattack."

She turned and looked at the portraits of past presidents hanging on the wall. "Tell the children, the one who performs best today—"

His golden eyes burned fiercely. "He's the next president of the Lionheart Society."

At 8:15, the situation took a turn for the worse.

The commando team led by Caesar himself penetrated the Lionheart's defense line like a scalpel.

He didn't use a gun at all, and every time Dick Tudor swung, an opponent was tagged out.

Even if he cannot use the Word Spirit, his bloodline is still an excellent A-grade one, and the Gattuso family's king training course has also allowed his combat skills to reach the top level.

Bailey, who was following behind him - the timid English freshman last year - seemed like a different person at this moment, and the firepower network from his two guns perfectly covered Kaiser's blind spot.

"Left corridor!"