The Train Station

Luo Qiusheng met the other person's probing gaze and walked unhurriedly to the chair opposite, settling into it with ease.

"B007, Deep Sea Cod. I'm the operations specialist dispatched by headquarters to support you. Your mission ends here. I'll take over from now on."

Hearing this, Raymond, who had been on edge all night, suddenly let out a breath of relief.

He removed his dust-covered baseball cap, stood, and extended a hand with solemn gratitude. Relief at having survived showed in his voice. "Thank you for the support, headquarters! May I ask your name?"

Luo Qiusheng raised a hand to gently decline the gesture without shaking it. A faint smile curved his lips as he replied with calm, unyielding certainty, "Your field assignment is over. But the classified files on Jormungandr in your possession must be handed over to me."

"But these files..." Raymond hesitated, instinctively wanting to argue.

Before he could finish, Luo Qiusheng spoke in a low, clear voice, piercing straight to the heart of their predicament. "I'm here to help you get out. I don't want to see a temporary teammate die here. The entire subway station is now shrouded by the domain of the King of Earth and Mountains. The only escape route is under the Dragon King's control. You're carrying classified information valuable enough to attract the covetous eyes of top-tier dragons. If you try to force your way out with it, you'll meet a dead end."

Raymond fell silent at once.

He knew better than anyone that every word Luo Qiusheng had said was true.

From the moment he'd infiltrated the area to investigate and gather information, he'd sensed that the dragon presence here was so thick it was nearly suffocating. Every step had been fraught with danger, and he'd long since prepared for the worst: dying here.

Help had appeared just as he'd reached the brink. Not only had it shielded him from mortal danger, it had even laid out the only path to survival. He couldn't help being tempted.

"I've worked for the Execution Department for years and never seen you before." Raymond remained suspicious, staring hard at the cool, composed young man before him.

"A second-year student. More or less a rookie." Luo Qiusheng brushed off the question of his identity. "Senior staff will handle the rest of the mission. Your only job is to make it out alive and return to headquarters to report."

Before Raymond could ask anything else, Luo Qiusheng reached over and took the briefcase from his hands in one swift, decisive motion.

Inside lay the core of the mission: the complete, top-secret investigation files on Jormungandr.

Raymond stared blankly at his empty hands. After a few moments of hesitation, he finally suppressed his unease, bowed in thanks, and hurried toward the subway station's emergency exit.

Only after Raymond had vanished around the corridor's bend did Luo Qiusheng lower his gaze, open the briefcase, and take out the stack of paper files marked with the highest security classification.

His eyes quickly scanned the dense text and records, committing all the key information to memory. Once he was sure he'd missed nothing, a cluster of tiny crimson flames suddenly flared at the tips of his right-hand fingers.

The faint flames licked across the pages and devoured the thick classified file in an instant. The yellowed sheets rapidly charred and crumbled, turning to ash that fluttered down through the air.

Luo Qiusheng brushed the last of the ash from his palm and murmured, "This is all I can do. By saving Raymond's life, I can at least delay Jormungandr's awakening for a while."

He knew the dragons' fate had long been etched into their blood. The undercurrents stirring beneath the surface could never truly be reversed.

All he could affect were the lives at stake before him and the fleeting opportunities that came and went in an instant.

To guard against sudden complications, Luo Qiusheng didn't linger. He suppressed his presence, disappeared into the dim shadows, and silently followed the route Raymond had taken, leaving without making a sound or stirring the slightest ripple of spiritual power.

Beijing's entire subway station remained eerily silent.

The cold fluorescent lights flickered on and off. The sharp pops of exploding bulbs echoed intermittently through the empty tunnels. Faint tremors kept shivering through the ground as cracks spread rapidly like webs, while great slabs of tile broke off the walls and rubble rattled down.

Rumble—

A deep, muffled roar suddenly erupted from far below!

Violent tremors swept across the entire platform. The earth could no longer withstand the crushing force of the dragon's power, and it collapsed with a thunderous crash!

Layers of thick concrete and rock caved in. Dust billowed everywhere, obscuring every line of sight. Broken rails, toppled pillars, and falling ceiling panels merged into a wasteland straight out of the apocalypse.

Amid the surging clouds of dust, the dragon's might burst free from its underground prison and swept across the area with savage force. It was the unadulterated pressure of the First-Generation King, the King of Earth and Mountains, Fenrir: weighty, violent, oppressive, like a towering mountain crashing down. Every breath of oxygen grew sluggish and heavy.

From deep in the tunnel came faint, low, indistinct roars, mingling with the thunderous collapse of the rock layers—enough to make anyone's blood run cold.

Luo Qiusheng stopped in a relatively stable corner of the passage and turned aside to avoid the flying rubble. His gaze fell heavily upon the heart of the subway station, now completely swallowed by the collapse.

Dust blurred his features, but his eyes remained clear and calm.

He knew this collapse had never been an accident. It was the harbinger of a Dragon King's awakening, the prelude to the Nibelungen's emergence.

Jormungandr lay hidden in the shadows, while Fenrir held the underground. The two kings had already made their moves on the board.

The files he'd just destroyed seemed to sever humanity's trail of clues about the Dragon King. In truth, they had also temporarily veiled the coming disaster, buying the human world a few precious moments to catch its breath.

The wind howled, and dust filled the air.

Luo Qiusheng lowered his eyes slightly. The last sparks at his fingertips went out. "It still came," he whispered.

"The final game of the Dragon Tribe—the Eye of the Mourner—has officially begun."

He turned and stepped into the deep, dark passage, steadily withdrawing in the direction farthest from the center of the collapse.

Under the surface, the currents raged. No one knew that this second-year student from Kassel had already begun, long before anyone noticed, to pry the gears of fate loose.

The ground cracked beneath Luo Qiusheng's feet a second after each step. After escorting Raymond away from the train station, he returned to its entrance.

The ambush failed. The Dragon King Jormungandr won't let this go...

He pulled out his phone, scrolled down his contacts, found Lu Mingfei, and promptly called him.

Luo Qiusheng: "Lu Mingfei, where are you now?"

Lu Mingfei: "On a plane. What's up?"

Luo Qiusheng: "Do you have anything else to do after you land?"

"No."

"Good. Come by the train station first, then." With that, he ended the call. He had no intention of waiting for the two of them before going to find Fenrir. Instead, he went straight down the stairs. The lights were out, and the way ahead was pitch-black.

"A flock of Kamaitachi?" Luo Qiusheng was somewhat surprised when he saw them.

The Kamaitachi shouldn't have appeared this early.

"Jormungandr, I know you're watching. Come out. Let's talk."