In a twin-bed hospital room, Angers sat beside a bed occupied by a very lively Fingel.
"When did he lose consciousness?" Angers asked.
"Everything was going smoothly at first. Then he suddenly shouted, 'Brother!' Ronald Tang turned and looked at us. The pressure from his Golden Eyes was so intense I couldn't even lift my head." Fingel's account differed somewhat from what he had written in his brief report. "I activated my Word Spirit to keep from being crushed flat against the ground. He dropped to his knees then, too, but once the lights went out, I couldn't see anything."
"Before he shouted 'Brother,' did Ronald show any unusual behavior?" Angers asked again.
"No. If that guy was putting on an act, then anyone around us could be a dragon." Fingel recalled a few details about Old Tang, including his late-night heart-to-heart with Lu Mingfei. "Is he really the other one?"
"We don't know yet," Angers said quietly. "No one else is to know about this conversation."
"Of course." Fingel nodded.
Cassell College held a controlling stake in this hospital, and the professional medical staff generally swept rooms for listening devices before selecting one.
Less than thirty seconds later, Ye Sheng pushed open the door, looking travel-worn.
What greeted him was a warm, harmonious moment between teacher and student. Angers was peeling an apple with his famous Alchemy Folding Knife, while Fingel lay in bed, watching eagerly.
"Principal." Ye Sheng politely knocked on the door.
"Ah, Ye Sheng. Thank you for your hard work." Angers sounded like a kindly elder. "You performed admirably in this operation."
"No, I hardly did anything." Ye Sheng sounded a little ashamed.
"There's no need to reproach yourself. Cleaning up the aftermath and securing victory are both a commander's duties. This incident wasn't your fault. Even if your reinforcements had arrived in time, it wouldn't have changed the outcome." Angers offered the advice with considerable earnestness.
Ye Sheng's eyes brightened. "Has the Vice Principal found a lead?"
"No, but we can already classify this as a 'Dragon King's awakening.' Signs of elemental turbulence were discovered in the Bronze City, almost simultaneously with the Panhandle Plateau incident." Angers stood up.
"So it was the Bronze and Fire King?" Ye Sheng's expression darkened. He had experienced that disaster firsthand.
Strangely, after that incident, the Executive Department had made several exploratory dives without finding any further traces of living or awakening dragons. After salvaging a heap of scrap metal, the college had lowered the priority of exploring the Bronze City by one level.
"Our theory is that this First-Generation Dragon King, one of the Four Great Thrones recorded in the Ice Sea Fragments, influenced Lu Mingfei through some kind of mark during his first awakening. This time, it may have been an assassination attempt," Angers said.
"Then we..." Ye Sheng drew a deep breath, trying to digest the enormous amount of information the principal had just given him.
"The branch offices are already taking action. I came here to bring the witnesses to the Panhandle Plateau incident back to the college, where hypnosis will help them recall what happened." Angers finished peeling the apple and handed it to Fingel. The unbroken spiral of peel dropped neatly onto the tray.
Angers wiped the apple juice off the Folding Knife with a handkerchief, then folded it and slipped it into the leather sheath inside his shirt sleeve.
"I request permission to join the Three Gorges operation," Ye Sheng said firmly.
"Granted." Angers agreed at once, decisively, with approval in his eyes. "Many Hybrids who encounter dragons spend the rest of their lives living in the shadow of their might. It seems Lu Mingfei made quite an impression on you down beneath the reservoir."
"Yes," Ye Sheng admitted. "I think he's the one who will lead us to victory in this war."
"So do I." Angers patted his shoulder.
The special branch-line train CC1000 sped toward the mountaintop campus.
Inside a carriage decorated in Victorian style, Angers and Fingel sat facing each other. Beside them, the unconscious Constantine lay on a medical stretcher trolley.
The morning sunlight was fierce and brilliant. Droplet-like wisps of hot vapor were visible in the shafts of light, rising from the black tea Angers had brewed.
"Do I really have to be hypnotized when we get back?" Fingel asked.
"Under extreme circumstances, your brain can deceive you." Angers gently swirled the teacup on the table. "In a sense, none of us has ever seen the real world. Our sensations come from nerve signals transmitted by our retinas, cochleae, skin, olfactory cells, taste cells, and so on. When the brain judges those signals to be harmful, it sometimes distorts part of the information."
"A brain in a vat?" Fingel had apparently read philosophical works of that sort and recognized the concept Angers was describing.
Chapter 70: Hypnosis
"Yes, a brain in a vat," Angers said. "A hypothetical scenario proposed by Hilary Putnam: a human brain is removed from its body and placed in a vat of nutrient solution that keeps it alive. Its nerve endings are connected to a computer, which sends it information according to a program, maintaining the illusion that everything is perfectly normal. To that person, people, objects, and the sky still seem to exist. His own movements, bodily sensations, and so forth can also be fed into it."
"So a dragon's oppressive aura works on a similar principle?" Fingel nodded thoughtfully. "It directly affects an organism's nerve signals to produce fear, or even hallucinations?"
"We don't know yet. A dragon's 'spirit' isn't an abstract, idealist concept like a soul or a psychological phenomenon. It can directly affect elemental forces in the objective world. In the science of dragons-alchemy-spirit is itself one of the elements." Angers was an excellent educator. The carriage had now become a miniature classroom, even if his only student was the F-Rank Fingel. "If something objectively exists, we can obtain empirical evidence through observation and experimentation, and thereby describe, understand, and predict it!"
"Uh..." Fingel immediately spotted the harsh reality behind the principal's impassioned speech. "But in the end, we're still stuck using an old-fashioned technique like hypnosis."
"Because our science and technology got started far too late-compared with the dragons' innate powers, alchemy, and ancient civilization... Fortunately, the college already has a research project in this field. According to their latest report, they've completed an in vitro neural network called DishBrain, consisting of roughly eight hundred thousand to a million living brain cells. It's about the size of a cockroach's brain." Angers lifted his black tea and took a sip before continuing. "They placed microelectrodes beneath the brain cells and applied stimuli using precisely controlled, computer-generated currents. They're now looking for a way to simulate nerve signals similar to a dragon's mental suppression. Given time, we may be able to take control of our own brains. Even ordinary people could face a Dragon King."
"In this field, have we really only studied neural tissue the size of a cockroach's brain?" Fingel asked cautiously. "Wouldn't studying a human brain directly... be faster?"
Angers glanced at him. "The Vatican only published the new seven deadly sins of modern society last year. Human experimentation was near the top of the list."
Fingel's knowledge was quite broad, and he had heard of those seven sins before: genetic modification, human experimentation, environmental pollution, social injustice, causing poverty, excessive greed, and moral degradation.
"If you ask me, our school's financial backers have hearts black enough to drip ink. I'd bet they've committed a little of every sin on that list," Fingel quipped.
Angers neither agreed nor disagreed.
The Secret Party was no charitable institution. The representatives of these Hybrid families sat together in what was now called the Board of Trustees, formerly the Council of Elders. They were the true power holders on the world's hidden side, with legacies as old as the history of the Black King's descendants. Even in those ignorant, blood-soaked dark ages, they had been renowned for their iron-fisted methods and willingness to stop at nothing.
Human rights meant nothing back then. If it gained them power and weapons, even sacrificing people alive was no great matter.
They had never slain dragons to protect humanity or respect human rights. They were competing with the dragons for the thrones that symbolized power.
"Once the dragons are truly all dead, they'll step out of the world's shadows and take over the vacant thrones," Angers said. "But this is the most brutal war in history-a struggle between species in which one must die for the other to live. Anyone who thinks that way is doomed never to truly stand against the dragons."
Just then, the stretcher trolley made a strange noise, and the boy lying on it in a hospital gown abruptly sat up.
An uninformed observer might have thought Angers's fiery speech had stirred him. In reality, he had just jolted awake from a nightmare.
Constantine rubbed his eyes in confusion and stared blankly at the intense sunlight outside the window, seemingly not yet fully awake.
"You scared me!" Fingel said, though there wasn't a trace of surprise on his face. For that brief instant, he had straightened slightly in his seat, like a leopard poised to spring.
Angers looked at Constantine with a faint smile. "You're awake. Did you have a nightmare?"
Hearing his voice, Constantine turned his gaze toward him, but his empty eyes seemed unable to focus. "My brother is dead."
"Which brother? Lu Mingfei?" Fingel asked.
Constantine shook his head without speaking.
"There are only two, so that means Ronald Tang." Fingel directed that remark at Angers.
Angers ignored Fingel and gently asked Constantine, "What's your name?"
Constantine looked at Fingel, hesitated, then said, "Wang Wei."
"He seems fine." Angers got up, walked over, and released the restraints securing Constantine's limbs to the stretcher trolley.
"You're deciding he's fine just like that?" Fingel raised an eyebrow.
"Hypnosis requires the subject to be in a relaxed, comfortable setting. That's why so many charlatans who dabble in witchcraft arrange special lighting and burn incense. The customer's mind is already being influenced the moment they enter the room. Add skillful verbal guidance, and they develop the illusion that they're communicating with spirits." Angers had Constantine lie down on the carriage's sofa as he continued explaining to Fingel. "The most skilled charlatans in the world are actually Chinese fortune-tellers. They swindle people right out on the street, relying on technique alone."
"Huh? Weren't we going to wait until we got back to the college to hypnotize him?" Fingel asked, puzzled.
"By then, it'll be too late," Angers said. "You'll be joining him in a moment."
When CC1000 arrived at the platform, a figure was already waiting there: Pazzi Gattuso, secretary to the Board of Trustees.
As meticulous and efficient-looking as ever, he faced the silver-haired old man, the F-Rank loser, and the A-Rank freshman as they stepped off the train.
"I received no notice that the secretary to the Board of Trustees would be coming," Angers said coolly to the blond young man dressed entirely in black.
"The Board of Trustees is deeply concerned about the Panhandle Plateau incident. I'm here to observe the hypnotic interrogation of the witnesses." Pazzi stated his purpose-or rather, the purpose of the powerful figures he represented.
"We'll send the hypnosis report to the Board of Trustees as soon as it's available." Angers's smile faded. "Do the trustees suspect the college of concealing something?"
There was no emotion in Pazzi's one exposed, ice-blue eye. "I merely carry out instructions. It isn't my place to speculate about what the esteemed trustees are thinking. If you wish, I can also convey your displeasure."
"Of course you may observe this hypnosis session." Angers unexpectedly showed his reasonable side. "Naturally, I won't take it out on you."
"As for my displeasure... I'll question them in person."
Chapter 71: Organization
At an altitude of roughly thirty meters above the rooftop, the Z-8F 100 approached the helipad on a descending angle, gradually slowing down. This was precisely how a helicopter would land on open ground, but the helipad was on top of a building more than fifty stories tall, and heavy rain was pouring from the sky!
By the time it was four meters above the rooftop, the helicopter had slowed to twenty kilometers per hour. Its rotors began to enter the range of the rooftop's ground effect, and the fuselage trembled slightly.
Yet Zero truly had it under control. The huge machine was terrifyingly steady in her hands. The massive body of the Z-8F 100 hovered above the concrete helipad, then descended, its tricycle landing gear settling smoothly onto the ground.
The cabin opened, and Lu Mingfei was the first to emerge.
The rain clouds still hung overhead. The rain had eased considerably, but the wind had grown stronger. Rings of lights glowed around the helipad, bright floodlights intermingling with green perimeter lights.
"Boss, are we keeping this guy locked up?" Shudey May followed Lu Mingfei out. "I don't think this thing will fit in the stairwell or the private elevator. If we're keeping him caged, he'll have to stay on the roof."
"Old Tang" still lay in his custom-built bronze cage. Its open framework consisted of dozens of slender bronze bars twisted and joined together, like a crab trap.
Lu Mingfei had built it mainly to make it easier to transport "Old Tang." Now that it had served its purpose, he commanded the bronze cage to open a gap.
Su Enxi threw a thick blanket she had prepared over "Old Tang."
Finally, Lu Mingfei, Zero, Su Enxi, and Shudey May-carrying "Old Tang," who had been bundled up like a caterpillar-entered the penthouse mansion through the rooftop stairwell.
The stairwell, only wide enough for one person, seemed a little cramped, but the space opened up dramatically once they stepped inside.
It was a four-story apartment with a simple, elegant interior.
All four were somewhat tired. After tossing "Old Tang" onto a bed in one of the rooms, Shudey May and Su Enxi each found a bathroom to wash up in.
Zero led Lu Mingfei into what appeared to be the master bedroom, then opened a walk-in wardrobe hidden behind a huge abstract painting. She found him a loose set of pajamas before leaving.
Lu Mingfei took the clothes into the master bathroom. An oval bathtub stood by the window, with a small wine cabinet beside it.
Lu Mingfei chose the quicker option: a shower.
By the time he had finished washing, put on his pajamas, and reached the large living room on the first floor, Shudey May and Su Enxi had yet to come out. Zero was blow-drying her pale blond hair.
The apartment had four bedrooms, three living areas, and five bathrooms, so all four of them could bathe at once without waiting in line.
The living room's ceiling was about seven or eight meters high, with half the second floor given over to the open space above it. A huge chandelier hung there, currently unlit. Only the concealed ambient lights around the room were on.
Lu Mingfei sat in one corner of a wraparound sofa large enough to seat more than a dozen people.
The living room wall facing the balcony was almost entirely made up of enormous picture windows. Silk curtains hanging from the ceiling concealed the view, though there was probably little worth seeing on a rainy day anyway.
Lu Mingze's team seemed quite wealthy. A residence like this, with its interior furnishings, might well cost eight figures.
Soon, Su Enxi and Shudey May emerged from their baths, one after the other. Su Enxi wore a baggy T-shirt and beach shorts, while Shudey May wore a long silk nightgown.
"Let's go up to the second floor," Su Enxi suggested.