I am not a half-breed who masters the Eight Wonders

But because of their different positions, they may not support the Secret Party.

Of course, they will not turn to dragons.

This is the mixed-race society, with all kinds of mixed-races, all kinds of ideas, and all kinds of families.

Ange put his hands in his pockets, humming some aria, and walked through the colorful corridor.

The floor is paved with marble, and the walls on both sides are covered with famous paintings, from Van Gogh, Monet to Rubens.

The scarlet zenith, walls, and ground, when the sun shines on it, flow gorgeous colors between blood and roses.

"I didn't expect you to take the initiative to come to me."

A faint greeting, as if from an old friend for many years.

Angers stopped.

A short figure was projected on the ground, with a hunched back and a cane.

Angers looked down at the figure and was silent for a long time.

At the end of the passage is the Gothic stained glass, which connects the earth from the dome, and the light passes through the stained glass, leaving mottled colors in the corridor.

I forgot to mention, because of their long life spans, some of these people may have been very active in the middle of the last century, so their aesthetic vision is also very lagging behind, and the flashy Baroque style is still popular among them.

Angers took a deep breath, but did not look back.

"Why did you come to see me? Why don't you come in and sit?" the person behind asked.

"In Texas in 1899, you shot me once, taking advantage of the moment I turned around. Since then, I have hated you calling me behind my back, Henkel, do you still have that pair of alchemy wheels?"

"It's been 100 years, don't you still hold grudges?" The person behind smiled kindly, "At that time, you could only delay for 4 seconds, but now it's more than 10 seconds? You can drag flying bullets Slow down, what is there to worry about? And I’m getting old too, I’m not the fast Henkel I used to be.”

"But your holy judgment is too annoying, I'm not sure I can escape your judgment."

"It's a modern society. You don't need to rely on words and alchemy revolvers to talk. Come in and have a drink. Everyone is here."

Angers turned around slowly, and saw a crimson door hidden in the wall opened on the side of the corridor, and the skinny old man wearing round-frame glasses and a cowhide roll-brimmed hat nodded slightly at him.

He looked like a retired Texas Ranger, with the frayed badge on his hat.

There are 13 high-backed cowhide chairs in the room, and a handsome young man sits on each chair.

They all greeted Angers in the same way, raised their right fists, and showed the silver rings on their index fingers. The thick and simple rings had different totems on the huge rings.

That is their respective family coat of arms.

"You don't look like you didn't expect it, it's better to say that you...have expected my arrival..."

Henkel smiled kindly, but did not refute Angers words.

He seemed to be a harmless old man. If Ange hadn't suffered under this smiling tiger, he might have been fooled by this guy.

"No need to introduce it? Hilbert Jean Angers, a well-known financial backer in the circle, our major client, and the principal of Cassel College."

Henkel sat at the table and motioned Angers to sit casually: "How many years have we not spoken, Angers?"

"The last time was on December 1941, 12, at Pearl Harbor, our negotiations were interrupted in the middle of the conversation by an aviation siren, and the damn Japanese bombed that day."

Angers sat down on the empty chair nearby and lit a cigar.

"Yeah, now that I think about it, the United States declared war in World War II, which suspended the negotiations on our alliance."

Henkel nodded, with some emotion: "More than half a century has passed after a pause."

"Is this the family representative of your generation?"

Angers glanced at the well-dressed young men.

Henkel nodded: "Excellent young people from every family."

"Some of the old guys from your generation and mine are dead, and some are lying in hospital beds with oxygen tubes stuck in their throats."

"Bloodlines are a tragedy for them. They will not die suddenly due to disease, but their organs will slowly fail... After all, their genes are not perfect, so they can only be regarded as half dragons."

Henkel sighed: "I'm old too, seeing that you are still as vigorous as a young man, I'm really envious, if you go to a bar, there will be little girls who are attracted to a handsome grandpa like you? I like you very much. That Maserati."

"Don't turn around," Angers puffed out a puff of smoke, "you should know why I'm here today."

"You're less angry when you're older, and it's easy to hurt your body." Henkel picked up champagne from the ice bucket, poured a glass and handed it to Angers.

"Actually, I'm still quite young. If I go to a bar, there are little girls who will fall in love with me."

Angers toasted, and countered with Henkel's words just now.

"You should know that I have zero tolerance for this kind of thing, so if this matter has nothing to do with you, Henkel, you'd better not get yourself burned."

The atmosphere in the room suddenly became tense, and Henkel took two steps back to show that he had no intention of making Angers an enemy, while the young people looked at each other in blank dismay, ready to fight.

They looked at each other with serious eyes.

In fact, they have always been very wary of Angers. Before this conversation even started, they established the principle of listening more and talking less.

In fact, these people are just shields launched by the family, and there is no need to fight Angers to death.

Henkel is the spokesperson they launched.

Not for anything else, because he is the pinnacle of the mixed-race family's fighting power, and the only old mixed-race who is likely to hurt Angers and has an old relationship with Angers.

In their perception, Henkel has the conditions to allow Angers to talk on an equal footing.

But now, Henkel's decisive retreat made them a little at a loss.

They lit up their golden pupils and stared at Angers.

Everyone has more or less heard the name of this silver-haired old man.

The principal of Kassel College, the earliest member of the Lionheart Society, the organizer behind the massacre of the Dragon King...

Such an old guy is a sharp knife. If you want to reach out and grab the blade, you have to have the consciousness of being cut and bleeding.

Among the mixed races, it is well known that Angers cannot tolerate dragons.

This is the reverse scale belonging to this old dragon.

Other things don't matter, only this thing is absolutely not allowed.

Why did Angers come here today?

Why are you all sitting here?

In fact, everyone is well aware of what happened this time.

Leaving aside the mastermind for the time being, everyone present at the scene reached in to fish for something.

Perhaps only relying on these, Angers can't believe that they are cooperating with dragons, but no one dares to bet, no one dares to try whether this old guy will turn his face because of this inappropriate question.

But unexpectedly, Angers didn't look very angry, just drinking slowly while talking calmly: "I always thought that although your families are not very promising, at least you will be as noble and pure as your predecessors Adhere to the honor of nobles, but now it seems that I seem to overestimate you, your methods are much dirtier than I thought."

"We should always fight for the ideals of our ancestors, instead of dying of old age in bed like our fathers."

A young man stood up. He had an artist mustache and spoke impassionedly, reminding Angers of the German dwarf who started the war.

Angers knew very well that ten out of ten sentences this young man said were unbelievable.

For them, the ideals of their ancestors are no different from shit, and their parents who died of old age are even more nonsense. Their grandfathers are much younger than Angers and Henkel, and they may be able to carry the thighs of young girls Charge it.

He asked, "Then what is your ideal?"

The young man opened his hands, enthusiastically: "Eternal life, that is the power that belongs to the Dragon King, and we are gradually grasping this power in our hands."

"Your Excellency, Principal! Sacrifice is inevitable. It is an honor for ordinary people to use the lives of ordinary people to pave the way for our evolution. History is like a steel wheel. There will always be some people under the wheel. This is the inevitability of history! "

"Even if we can't kill the Dragon King, we can still seize their power. As long as we do not, the hybrid will be at the top of the evolution tree. Humans can't compare with us,"

The young man took a deep breath: "We will become... the new Dragon Clan!"

"New... Dragon Clan..."

Anger clapped his hands: "Well said!"

With a word of appreciation, Angers personally poured a glass of champagne and held it in front of the young man.

The young man was praised by Angers, his neck was stalked like a victorious fighting cock, and he was about to take the wine glass in Angers' hand triumphantly, but the next second...

"boom!"

The goblet exploded directly on the young man's face, and the golden champagne flowed down the neckline of his suit to his chest. The young people around jumped up from their positions in shock, but the young man with the mustache didn't dare to act rashly.

In front of him, Angers twirled a 20cm-long folding knife in his hand. The light of the blade flashed on the young man's chin. The unique pattern of Damascus steel was all over the blade, which was crazy and beautiful.

Ange hummed a song at some point, he lowered his head and closed his eyes, his expression focused.

The young people were stunned, but they recognized the song, the aria "Magic of the Rheingold" from Wagner's "Ring of the Nibelungen".

The dwarf Alberich admired the magical gold at the bottom of the Rhine, but the three guardian goddesses mercilessly laughed at his ugliness and extravagant hopes, so he angrily stole the gold and cast it into a ring representing power. Doomed to lose happiness.

The young people faintly sensed what Ange was implying.

"The ideals of the ancestors... You should be glad that the person chatting with you here today is not Frost. Although that guy is really annoying, he is a radical."

"A moderate like me can throw Amosu's wine in your face at most and scare you. If Frost heard what you said just now, that guy will probably send you to see him directly. Your old and dead parents."

"Hey, Angers, don't be angry with the child."

Henkel said lightly.

Angers took a puff on his cigar: "You have to educate, you know I'm an educator."

"Young man, don't you know that you are a dwarf in the eyes of pure-blooded dragons? Your bloodline is not complete, you talk big and feel inferior. New dragons? Usurping power? Immortality? Don't joke ,you

Just intent on stealing that gold. "

He blew a puff of smoke into the young man's face, "Your lecture on history was wonderful, yes, great success is always accompanied by sacrifice, when I was young at Trinity College, the teacher also said that those who hold power should Looking at history from a higher place is like standing on a mountain overlooking a war. Those people trampled each other to death like ants, but you will not feel pain because they are too far away from you. It’s so handsome without a little blood on it!”

"But I can't, because my position is not on the top of the mountain, I am in the middle of the battlefield, and people are dying around me every minute, every second, whether they are mixed races or ordinary people, their pain surrounds me, I saw their faces, their blood, their broken bodies, every face was familiar to me, they were all my companions."

"Henkel, I've never been a calm person, have I?"

"you are not."

Henkel said flatly, "You're just cool."

"So I'm already red-eyed. Can you tell a red-eyed person the wheel of history?"

"cannot."

Henkel agrees.