Dragon Clan: Dragon Slayer Wizard, professional dragon slayer

Chapter 91 The Emperor’s Bodyguard (please subscribe to get high-quality products)

On rainy nights, the pouring rain keeps pouring down from the sky like ink, as if it wants to dissolve people into this boundless darkness.

There is a wooden van parked on the small street at the back entrance of National University of Tokyo.

Long Kui followed Ange here and immediately understood something.

It seems that the old friend the principal mentioned is the one.

Sure enough, monsters will only be friends with monsters of the same level...

At this time, the ramen stall was no longer visited by hungry students due to the heavy rain.

The old man with white hair combed into a neat bun, dressed in white linen clothes and with a black towel tied on his forehead, was leisurely wiping the pot and spoon in his hand for mixing soup, humming a ditty in his mouth, as if the heavy rain outside was not the slightest bit. It didn't affect him generally.

Heavy rain pattered on the shed of the carriage. A silver-haired old man wearing a black suit and a rose-red bow tie slowly walked toward the ramen cart with a black umbrella in his hand.

The elegant and restrained British style about him doesn't look like someone who would go to a ramen truck for late-night snacks...

"jingle!"

The wind chime hanging on the trolley suddenly rang. The ramen chef stood lazily in front of the workbench, lowered his head and wiped the kitchen utensils in his hands, and said politely without raising his head:
"Sorry, it's closed."

The old man did not speak, but slowly sat down, picked up a bottle of sake from the side, and skillfully poured it into the small cup in front of the table.

Then the foreigner started drinking on his own, with a proficiency in his movements as if he had been living in Japan.

"When an acquaintance comes, it's still such a cold rainy night, so at least prepare a bowl of hot food to catch the wind and wash away the dust."

Angers spoke softly.

After hearing this damn British accent, the hand of the ramen chef who was wiping the pot suddenly paused, and then he suddenly raised his head with an expression as if he had seen a ghost:
"You old guy aren't dead yet?"

"You are still alive, how can I die?" Ange raised the small cup in his hand, smiled slightly and saluted the other party:
"Long time no see, old friend."

The ramen chef showed an unlucky look on his face, waved his hand quickly, and said in disgust:
"Bah, bah, bah! Who is your friend, Ange, can you please stop having random relationships with this old guy?"

Then he slammed the rag in his hand on the countertop and pointed at the "Closed" sign hanging on the door curtain:

"Are you deaf or blind? Didn't you hear me say it's closed?"

"You eat your own rice, and I'll eat my noodles. The water in the well does not interfere with the water in the river." Angre smiled and drank all the sake in the cup, then put it on the table with a "pop" and slowly moved toward the table in front of him. The ramen chef pushed it away and raised his chin slightly.

"Damn it, why did I end up with you, this haunting old ghost?" the ramen chef cursed while pouring wine into the small cup.

"Ange, no matter how gentlemanly you are on the outside, you can't hide your old gangster nature!"

With a "Bah!" sound, a ball of white noodles went straight into the pot. The ramen chef angrily stirred it with the spoon in his hand, as if imagining that what was being boiled in the pot was the gentle scum in front of him. .

Ange looked at the ramen chef in front of him who was angrily mixing noodles for him, and smiled calmly:
"Pay attention to the integrity of the noodles and don't break them by using too much force."

"Do you like it or not?" The ramen master didn't even raise his head and shouted back like he was cooking the pot:

"I'm not your fucking chef!"

Angers sipped the sake in his hand, looked around comfortably, and then said leisurely:

"After so many years, how come you, the majestic supreme leader of the underworld, have completely forgotten all the aristocratic etiquette that the priest taught you?"

"Bah! Who is rude?" The ramen chef turned his head and spat on the ground.

"In the middle of the night, on a rainy day, I came here to make things difficult for me, a little old man who was about to close up shop. As the spokesperson of the Secret Party, is this all you need?"

"Here! Sizzling beef noodles!"

The ramen chef pushed the noodles in the big bowl across the table with a straight face.

"You don't even want to bring me a pair of chopsticks?" Ange looked at the hot noodles in front of him and pointed at the table with his finger.

"Go away and get it yourself!"

……

There was a sound of chopsticks twitching, and a moment later, there were waves of squeaking sounds.

The ramen chef stood behind the chopping board with a dark face, his head raised, his eyes slightly squinted, his expression gradually became colder, a trace of high vigilance flashed in his eyes, and he asked softly:
"The boy over there standing in the rain, don't you need to call him over for a bowl of noodles?"

Angers finished the last noodle, took out a tissue from the paper box next to him, wiped the corners of his mouth like a gentleman, and said calmly:

"No, he decided to wait for me there."

"It looks like you have a good relationship with him. Congratulations. It's not easy to have a son with old age." The ramen chef said sarcastically.

"You don't have to scold me in such a roundabout way. If you want to scold me for being old and disrespectful, just save it." Angers raised his wrist slightly, and the napkin in his hand immediately drew a beautiful arc in the air, precise and freehand. Into the trash can next to it.

"Long Kui, my favorite disciple."

"I can see it." The ramen master's seemingly cloudy eyes narrowed slightly, and a faint light flashed in his pupils:
"Just like you, a little monster."

"Isn't this great? The big monster teaches the little monster. The perfect education cycle is very consistent with my status as an outstanding educator." Angers nodded happily.

"Then you might as well change the name of your Kassel Academy to Shrek Academy." The other party did not hesitate to make a mocking comment that found every opportunity.

After finishing his satiation, the ramen chef took off the black scarf from his forehead, threw it on the chopping board, and said angrily:

"Tell me, what do you want from me? Now get out of here!"

"It's nothing big. I just have a photo that I need you to help me see. Who is this 'distinguished sir'?"

I saw Angers slowly taking out a photo from his chest pocket, holding the corner of the photo between his hands, and handing it straight to the front.
The ramen chef took the photo with a frown on his face, and then turned it over. His doubtful eyes suddenly shrank, and his strong and powerful heartbeat even slowed down by half a beat!

On the screen, a pale and cyan giant dragon was lying miserably in the broken earth. Its golden pupils were eclipsed, as if to tell the world that it could not even close its eyes before it died. arrive.

Looking at the mountains of bloody meat piled up in the photo, the ramen chef's expression slowly became serious, and the rag he was holding in his hand couldn't help but fall to the ground.

After a moment of silence, the old man quietly asked:
"Did you kill the dragon in the photo?"

"No." Ange tapped the table lightly and said calmly:
"The boy behind me killed him. As I said, he is my most outstanding student." "Indeed, he is outstanding." The ramen master seemed to have changed into a different person, and his whole person was like a sharp blade unsheathed. For the first time in such a narrow street, he showed his sharpness as sharp as a knife.

"But...excellent is a bit too much."

Angers seemed not to be affected by this sharp force and waved his hand gently:

"I'm not here to discuss the education of my students. Tell me the identity of the dragon in the picture."

"Have you ever heard of the legend of Iki Nami?" The ramen master did not answer, but asked calmly.

"I've heard a little bit." Angers nodded.

"That's good, then you won't understand what I'm going to say next." The ramen chef slowly placed the photo on the table and narrated softly:

"Legend has it that the male god Izanagi and the goddess Iginami gave birth to all the gods in Japan respectively. Only when they gave birth to the God of Fire, Iginami died of being burned by the God of Fire and went to the Underworld. .”

"After the male god Izanagi learned that his wife had died, he was extremely sad. After finally burying his wife, he pulled out the Juken sword from his waist, killed the God of Fire, and chopped off the head of the God of Fire. .”

"After the death of the God of Fire, his remaining limbs and torso turned into other eight gods, wandering around the world, waiting for the opportunity to take revenge."

"No matter how many times I hear it, your Japanese mythology is still so fucked up." Ange took a sip of the sake in his cup and responded calmly.

"But does this dragon have something to do with the myth I heard?"

The ramen chef didn't say anything, he just handed the photo back and motioned for the other person to put it away.

Ange calmly put the photo back into his pocket. In the process, the other party said quietly:
"Of course it does matter. In our Sheqi family, Iqi Nami is equivalent to the mother goddess and the real...emperor!"

"And I was just pushed out to act as the 'prince' on the cards."

"What a sad story." Angers pushed the cup forward and then continued:

"But, old friend, you still haven't told me what this dragon has to do with this fucking myth."

The ramen master didn't say anything, he just dipped his fingers into the freshly poured sake in the cup, and then slowly wrote the word "Emperor" on the wooden table.

Then he calmly asked:
"What do you think the word 'emperor' means when broken down?"

"Bai...King..." Before the last word "王" was uttered, Ange closed his mouth and his eyes suddenly darkened.

"This dragon is related to the White King?"

"I'm very pleased that 130 years have not corroded your brain. You are still the keen dragon-slaying hero." The ramen master applauded symbolically.

"Then his identity is..." Ange looked down at the giant dragon lying in the photo, the light in his eyes kept flickering, as if he had seen some treasure.

"The standard second-generation white dragon blood descendants are most likely to be the close associates who protect the 'White Emperor'. The only ones who meet this standard are the close relatives who fell from that emperor."

The ramen chef's eyes became sharp, he supported the countertop with both hands, and continued slowly:
"It is said that after the God of Fire was killed, his body turned into other eight gods, and together they guarded the mother goddess Izanagi who was far away in the Underworld, and together they continued their hatred for the male god Izanagi."

"This is one of the eight gods, isn't it..." Angers' right hand couldn't help but clenched.

"It seems that you have already thought about what you have lost." The ramen master couldn't help but smile at the corner of his mouth, and finally looked at the gloomy Angre in front of him teasingly.

"As one of the Eight Gods and a close descendant of the White King, he must have detailed information about the 'White Emperor' in his mind. He may even... directly own the location of the 'Imperial Mausoleum'!"

The corners of the ramen master's face rose crazily, and he continued to gloat:
"But it is a pity that now you can only get a piece of rotten meat that is only used for alchemy. You have not obtained any of the most important information."

Ange drank all the sake in his cup with some depression, then stood up directly, picked up the black umbrella next to him, and walked into the rainy night without looking back.

The ramen chef looked at Ange's leaving figure with schadenfreude. It wasn't until he completely disappeared that he realized something.

"This damn old bastard didn't give me any fucking money!"

……

Long Kui leaned against the sheltered wall of the street, folded his hands on his chest, closed his eyes and rested.

"Da da……"

Suddenly, his ears moved slightly, and the sound of leather shoes on the rainy ground slowly entered his mind.

Long Kui slowly opened his eyes and looked up.

The silhouette of an old British man in a black suit gradually became clear in the rainy night.

"Principal." He opened his umbrella and walked over.

"Yes." Ange nodded slightly and motioned for the other party to follow.

After the two walked in the rainy night for a while, Ange slowly spoke:
"Long Kui, tomorrow the transportation personnel of the college will fly to Japan to transport the dragon corpse. You should follow them back to the college first, just in time to follow up on the safety of the trip."

After Long Kui heard this, his expression turned strange.

You let him, a dragon slayer, do security work on the plane?
Isn’t this just a hindrance?

But soon, he realized, something was wrong, why was he the only one on the list to go back?

Long Kui raised his head slightly, looked at Ang Re's back in front of him, and couldn't help but ask:
"What about you, principal? Won't you go back with me?"

Ange walked quietly in the heavy rain as thick as ink, as if he was outside the world, and his whole aura became ethereal.

After a moment, he said calmly:

"I won't go back with most of them first. I still need to stay in Japan to check some things, some..."

"The best thing for a ghost like me to do."

Angers raised his head slightly, looking through the layers of dark clouds in the sky, looking at the thunder and lightning generated by the constant friction and collision in the dark clouds, as if a galloping dragon was making waves in it, constantly driving the violent storm. To flood this land.

This British man in his 130s had sharp energy flowing in his eyes, as if they contained a ferocious lion.

(End of this chapter)