Dragon Clan: Reboot Life

Chapter 159 Dream ([-]) Free Chapter
The black shadow fluttered, passed the long corridor and the slightly cold night, flew into the austere church, flew over the thorns of candlelight, lay on the boy's shoulder, and delivered the prey it had just caught.

In a word.

Prey is a word.

The conversation that took place in the basement came to the boy's ears a few seconds later across an unimaginably long distance.

"Children are like this, they will be sentimental, but they will always grow up."

Then the little messenger immediately flapped its wings and returned to the basement to hunt for new words.

Just one sentence is of course meaningless, but the combination of many sentences is different.

Thousands of black shadows fluttered between the basement and the church, and they fell on the boy's shoulders, covering the whole place densely, like angry wasps covering the entire body of the intruder.

But the black shadows will not hurt the boy at all. If they land on the boy's arms, they will respectfully crawl with their legs bent and membrane wings, just like slaves respectfully send their prey to the boy in front of their masters. The boy's ear, and then leave.

Boys are their masters.

Each black shadow brought back a sentence or a series of laughter, so every sound from the luxurious dinner was delayed for a few seconds before reappearing in the boy's ears, even the heartbeat and breathing of those men and women were captured and sent.

If anyone can see these messenger-like black shadows, it will be the most shocking scene - the splendid Milan Cathedral is like a bat cave at the moment, black shadows come and go like a tide, and some hover over the boy's head Formed a huge black vortex.

The boy covered by the shadows listened quietly, thousands of black wings stretched out beside him.

In this world, there is indeed a power that can surpass the "rules"!

With such power the boy turned the sacred church into a forbidden place like a devil's sanctuary!

"Are you going to cremate her body?" The voice of clinking glasses.

"The surname Gullweger is finally over, let everything be reduced to ashes and cremated tomorrow." A calm and steady male voice.

"Caesar has been lying there for three days, is it okay?"

"Children are like this. They will be sentimental, but they will grow up."

"I think he is still very attached to his mother. In order to communicate with that woman, he even learned sign language."

"I think it's natural for him to cry, but did you notice the look on his face at the funeral? That was his mother."

"Children are so strange sometimes, even if he has an unrivaled bloodline. Don't worry about it, every strange child will grow up."

The boy tilted his head.

Adults are sometimes so naive, always thinking that with the passage of time, children will become sensible and filial, no longer rebellious and no longer cry, and become what they expect.

The boy didn't bother to listen anymore, stood up and waved his hands.

The black shadows rushed towards him like a tide, but with this wave of hand, it seemed that an invisible barrier opened around the boy. The black shadows did not dare to cross this barrier, turned around, gathered into a long black dragon, and passed through the open window. leave.

All was quiet, and the floor was covered with crystal feathers that blotted out the color of the carpet.

The boy won by stepping on these "crystal feathers" towards the church, where something was covered by a black tarpaulin.

With every step, countless voices exploded beside him.Those crystal feather-like things are actually "fragments of sound". This illusory thing is embodied by the unconventional power of the shadows. This is the prey they hunt to present to their masters. All sounds in the world can be their prey.

When the feathers are crushed, the sound will be released, and the feathers will accumulate like dense snowflakes, and the sound will burst out like a torrent.

The celebration of his mother's death echoed in the boy's ears, sharp and distorted, one after another.

……

in the day of wrath

The world will be reduced to ashes,
David and Thebys prophesied this way.

when the day of judgment comes

Strictly measure everything,

How the world will tremble.

……

The music progressed to the second stanza of "Requiem Mass", "Day of Wrath", and the whole church reverberated with this high song like divine power, flame and thunder.

The heavy hammer fell on the big drum, like thunder and lightning passing through the dark clouds, the thick male voice mixed with the high-pitched female voice, like the judgment of the doomsday.Tens of thousands of angels fly in the sky, singing the power of God, covering the sky and the earth with their white wings.

This famous song is not only written to lament the death, but also a song of judgment!
The boy sang along, his pronunciation has been trained the best, both high-pitched and vigorous, every sound he uttered is a majestic sound!
He jerked off the black tarpaulin...

That's a motorcycle!
Black matt paint, modified silver quads, thin red lines on the rims of the Speedy tires...a special low-seat Fat Boy from Harley-Davidson!
In "The Devil Terminator 1991" released in 2, the man named Schwarzenegger rode such a motorcycle, spun the rifle to load it, shot after shot, and blasted the T-1000 liquid metal robot fly!

Every man dreams of owning a Harley that crouches like a leopard when it's standing still!

It’s just that this Harley is much smaller than the normal version. Although every part meets Harley’s quality requirements, this little guy is like the little brother of a group of Harley brothers, and the seat height is only 2/3 of the normal version.

A completely custom-made Harley, every part has to be re-moulded, and the brake transmission has to be re-tuned.Although there are blueprints, the production of this thing is basically a brand new motorcycle by hand, and the price is unbelievably high.It was a birthday present for him when he was nine years old, and it had to be specially made, because at that time he was too tall to ride a normal Harley motorcycle.

It doesn't matter how much it costs, because women can't wait anymore.

He still remembered that when the woman opened the wooden box to reveal the motorcycle, the woman touched the top of his head: "Riding on it will make you look like a real man, Caesar, show mom!"

He understands the woman's intentions more clearly than anyone else, it's not to use money to show maternal love, but the woman can't wait for the day when he grows up...

From the day he was born, his mother was doomed not to wait for him to grow up.

But women want to see him grow up so much...

So that day he rode this motorcycle, flying across the garden and landing on the roof of his father's Rolls-Royce, leaving tire marks like scars on the shiny spray paint.

Women applaud him loudly, he is very happy, he likes women to be proud of him.

The boy stepped on the motorcycle and lifted a square tin bucket, a bucket of kerosene.

He started the motorcycle, drove slowly to the central altar, deftly bypassed all the candlesticks, came to the hexagonal coffin, and poured the whole bucket of kerosene on the coffin.

He gestured to the woman in the coffin in sign language: "Mom, those who have caused you... pain will all pay... the price for what they did!"

He held a Zippo lighter, held it up, and looked down at the woman's face one last time, staring blankly.

The woman said that men should not cry, because crying is useless, only cowards cry.

"Where's the time to cry when you have things to do?"

So he thought that in his whole life, he would cry only before he died, when he had exhausted all his strength and had nowhere to go.

He threw the lighter on the hexagonal coffin, and before the flying flames reached the corner of his clothes, he reached out and grabbed the tassel on the purple curtain, and pulled it hard.This huge curtain covered most of the dome, and the corners were blown down to the top of the hexagonal coffin. At this moment, the whole fell, covering the coffin and all the candlesticks, as if the sky was falling.Or after being pressed down for a few seconds, the entire purple curtain was burned through, as if turning into a scorching flame seven or eight meters high.

The fire alarm device was activated instantly, and a torrential water curtain fell from the sky, but before the water curtain completely extinguished the fire, the hexagonal coffin would be reduced to ashes.

Between the curtain of water and fire, a Harley motorcycle roared across the central altar, and the black shadow of the motorcycle was as sharp as a knife!

The slightly drunk men and women at the dinner party were dancing or clinking glasses lightly, when they suddenly heard the loud roar of the engine echoing in the long corridor!

They were not allowed to react at all, and the thick wooden door was knocked open from the outside.A small black motorcycle got up and drove on the dining table full of wine bottles, flowers, fruits, candlesticks and crystal glassware, knocking everything into the air and crushing it recklessly.Red wine and fruit juice splashed in the air, those graceful girls in evening gowns and high heels shrieked and dodged while covering their heads, while some men reached into their bags. In this lively family dinner, these elegant gentlemen actually Pack your weapon, an ivory-handled pistol...or an ancient horse knife!

Someone immediately approached and pressed the hands holding the weapons back into the bag.

"It's Caesar," whispered the man trying to control the situation.

The little motorcycle flicked its tail beautifully at the end of the long table, knocking a silver plate of fruit made by a master into the wall.The boy lifted the front of the motorcycle, waved a curtain of embers, and at the same time twisted the accelerator handle arrogantly, making this small but fierce toy make a more domineering roar.The heat wave of the four rows of pipes was overwhelming, and the noble ladies with bare arms were swept away, screaming with their arms folded.

The boy shook his head vigorously, his golden hair shining.

He gritted his teeth, and his snow-white teeth gleamed.

He proudly looked down at these men and women who were frightened by him, these were his "elders", but his eyes were full of sarcasm, and his eyes were shining so brightly that no one dared to look at them.

"Caesar! What are you doing?" Someone tried to reprimand.

"Pay the bill." The boy said coldly, threw the curtain in front of an aunt, took out a check without numbers and threw it on the ground, signed in flying Italian.

"Sorry to disturb your celebration, I just held a cremation for my mother, probably burned the central altar," the boy looked coldly at the old gentleman who was trying to control the situation, "Uncle, please help me fill in the appropriate The number to the Bishop. Tell him that although I appreciate the Mass he gave for my mother, I don't like his accent."

The gentleman stared into the boy's eyes, and his tone was extremely severe: "You have grown up, you shouldn't mess around anymore, you are the heir of the Gattuso family, you must know the rules!"

"I see the rules written on your faces," the boy tilted his head, looking around at her noble and elegant elders, "but what I want to do is just run over it!"

He let out the kind of roar that the most rebellious teenagers on the street would make, agitated and unscrupulous, it was a sound that a man can only roar when his hormones are the most perfect in youth, like a lion cub roaring.He put the gear on, and the motorcycle returned along the way it came from, crushed the entire long table again, landed on the ground with another beautiful tail flick, walked away along the long corridor after going out, and knocked open the carved iron wall in the basement. The door, away along the garden path.

The roar of the quadpipes can be heard far away, representing his mockery of his noble family, powerful patriarchs... and even the world.

A person has the right to make such a mockery only when he is the grandest and most glorious youth!

The elders who were left in the room were stunned, and they looked at each other with anxiety in their eyes.No one told the boy that they were having dinner here, but the boy seemed to know everything.He probably also knew that the family was overjoyed at his mother's death.

Actually the dead woman was nothing at all...but his son's name was Caesar, and that was the name of a great king...what king would spare someone who made his mother suffer?

It's chilling to think about.

Uncle silently picked up the check on the ground, the signature is...

"Caesar Gullweger".

"He actually used his mother's surname... Is this to deny that he is from the Gattuso family?" An elder came up to take a look, his voice full of anxiety.

"We're celebrating the disappearance of the surname Gullweger, but it seems that everything is far from over..." the uncle whispered.

"Such a child will inherit the family?"

"He must be tamed at all costs. It is not up to us to decide who will inherit the family. It is his bloodline, his one-in-a-million bloodline!"

　(The serialized version of this chapter about Caesar is deleted from the separate book)

　　
　
(End of this chapter)