If I don't have money to go to college, I can only go to slay the dragon.

Cassell College, Northern Illinois, United States.

In the conference room deep in the Hall of Valor, a maroon oak table runs through the entire space. A few beams of sunlight shine through the gaps in the cut glass on both sides, converging on the sleek wooden table and emitting a pale light that illuminates the people on the seats. The same pale and withered human face.

The portraits of past secret party leaders hang in the shadows and look at the current juniors in the hall. They can be said to be juniors, but those old bodies wrapped in black clothes tell that those gathered now can only be regarded as from the old era. The dead soul, but it is still alive in the new era, but it is unwilling to give up the scepter it once held.

"Mr. Maxwell, I'm surprised you're still alive."

"Mr. Turing, I always thought you were dead."

"Rumors stop at the wise. Mr. Fraunhofer is living well in front of us."

"Mr. Turing, the rumor seems ridiculous, but it also has some basis. That alchemy experiment almost killed me, but it was all worth it. We got the spectrum and more alchemical elements."

They are all elders of the secret party. They have lived from the era before World War II to today. They have witnessed the industrial revolution and the explosion of the first atomic bomb. They played an important role in those magnificent historical processes. Some wrote advanced formulas on the whiteboard and personally promoted the development of the dragon-slaying era. There were also pure violent fighters who drew knives and drank blood, chopping off another dragon. The head of an ancient dragon. For some reason, they gathered together today, whispering in the depths of the Hall of Valor, like the souls of the dead who did not want to die wandering in the cemetery.

In addition to these shadows of the old times, the school board of directors can also be found at the table. The most eye-catching one is naturally Countess Elizabeth Laurent. Sitting calmly at the table and wearing black clothes, she looks so young. Being in a group of tombstones that may be dying at any time, it is like a bright and delicate flower inserted in the cemetery, so out of place.

Baroness Laurent did not show any discomfort with this atmosphere and environment. Instead, her expression was a little gloomy, and she looked quietly at the empty chair at the end of the conference table, which belonged to the current president of Cassel College, Hilber. The location of Ter-Jean-Angers.

For some unknown reason, Hilbert Jean Angers was late for this meeting, so the elders of the Secret Party left their survival chambers and darkened research rooms to gather together as if they had nothing to do. This scene of a group chatting in this dusty conference room.

"But then again, there are new faces on the school board." Mr. Turing temporarily stopped the carriage leading to the past and followed the rut back to the present to smell the eye-catching flowers in front of him.

"Elizabeth Laurent." Countess Laurent, who was being watched by Mr. Turing, stood up behind the table and bowed slightly, paying her respects to this senior member of the secret party.

"It seems that a lot of things that I don't know happened since 1961. It may be a little late, but I express my condolences for what happened to your father." Mr. Turing also bowed, and Baroness Laurent nodded in thanks.

Yes, in addition to the core elders of the secret party, the school board of directors also attended this memory. Except for a few school directors who really couldn't make it back to the college as scheduled, old people like Frost Gattuso My friend was already sitting quietly behind the conference table, waiting expressionlessly for the latecomer.

Even the vice-principal, who is usually an alcoholic, is now sitting on one side of the conference table with his dirty cowboy hat covering his face, snoring as if no one is around to catch up on his sleep. If it weren't for his respected title, I'm afraid it would have been blasted out and thrown into the artificial lake in front of Niflheim.

More than half of the core members of the secret party are gathered in this sealed conference room. If a spy can sneak into this place and detonate explosives today, then most of the history of the secret party will be completely buried with rubble and collapsed buildings. Into the grave.

I remember that the last time such a big fight was caused was the aftermath meeting of the Constantine Blockade Incident on August 21, 2010. At that meeting, half of the secret party elders gathered together as today and participated in the investigation of the secret party. The formulation of a plan to slay the dragon in the next ten years.

It was that meeting that secretly triggered a series of subsequent disturbances. For example, the draft of the 'Bronze Plan' that followed was also confirmed for implementation at that meeting, which directly triggered the magnificent Battle of the Yangtze River, and Later, on the grounds of the development and research of the "White Emperor City Ruins" and the remains of the "Lord of Bronze and Fire", the Orthodox and Secret Parties formed their first alliance in the future.

So what will be the theme of this meeting? no one knows.

The door was pushed open, and the ancient conference room fell into silence. There were no more whispers, but the sound of the vice principal's sleeping snoring seemed even more out of place. The people in black stared silently at the familiar figure walking outside the door, with white hair, a three-piece suit, and shiny Oxford leather shoes. That was naturally everyone's old friend, Hilbert Jean Angers.

"It seems that everyone is here, except for some people who really can't be here." Angers' natural opening remarks kicked off the meeting. He did not explain why he was late. He walked to the main seat of the conference table and pulled out his seat. , nodded slightly to all the core elders as a greeting, then sat down calmly, and at the same time placed a stack of unknown documents on the table in front of him.

"So Angers, what is the theme of this meeting?" Mr. Maxwell leaned forward slightly and looked at Angers at the end of the conference table. No one minded Angers being late for no reason. The time of everyone here is precious, so there is no reason to waste your precious time on arguing about meaningless topics.

Angers didn't talk nonsense and kicked the vice-principal who was still snoring awake. The vice-principal shivered and almost fell off his chair. However, at the critical moment, his bloated body showed a different sense of balance. He was stunned to the left. Twisting to the right, he maintained a delicate balance and sat back upright.

"Uh-huh? Has the meeting started? Where did everyone talk?" The vice-principal leaned on the table with his right hand and pressed his eyebrows hard with his thumb. There was a smell of alcohol all over his body. There was no shame or shame in his eyebrows. Sloth and laziness when you wake up from a big dream.

The current principal and vice-principal of Kassel College are both top-notch in a sense, which is why the Beowulf family, which has been in charge of the "Action Team", the predecessor of the executive department, since the seventeenth century, took up the post of these two top-notch At that time, he decisively resigned and retired as a core elder. The rise of the Angers faction has changed many things in the secret party, but the only thing that remains unchanged is the same goal and iron blood of this organization.

Angers took the touchpad from the vice-principal's hand. He placed the touchpad horizontally on the table and touched it a few times. He looked at the vice-principal. The vice-principal squinted and took out a few beads that seemed to be filled with grease. The metal balls were casually scattered on the conference table.

The core elders watched the metal balls rolling on the long oak table. When they rolled to the edge of the corner of the table and were about to fall out, they suddenly made a slight "click" sound and settled in the corner as if they were magnetically attracted, pointing upwards. The metal sphere began to emit silver-blue light, and countless chaotic laser lines began to construct a 3D projection on the huge oak conference table.

Many elders of the martial arts sect who had been sleeping for decades and could no longer keep up with the advancement of science and technology opened their eyes wide and looked at this ever-changing scene. Angers operated on the touch panel, and the 3D projection on the table continued to rotate as he fiddled with it. When it was completely frozen, a huge building with a turtle shell-shaped glass dome appeared in front of everyone.

"This is a former train station in a coastal city on the other side of the ocean. The total construction area of ​​the station is 10,997 square meters. The waiting hall can accommodate 4,000 people waiting for the train at the same time. It is expected to be officially opened to traffic in early September 2011." Angers looked up at the table Introduced by the elders who looked up at this huge projection.

The elders nodded frequently, all amazed by this exquisite projection technology, and some even gently stretched out their hands to block the ripples on the projection beam. There were also a few people who silently observed the structure of the building, wondering why an ordinary train station appeared on the secret party meeting table across the ocean. Only some people with knowledge of the matter looked at the 3D projection with dark expressions, including Frost Gattuso, who sat in front of a chair and looked at Angers coldly through the 3D projection, but Angers was Not even a moment of peripheral vision was left for him.

"It's a very exquisite projection, as if you are on the scene. But Angers, you said this is a 'former' train station?" Mr. Turing looked sideways at Angers and asked.

"Yes, once." Angers nodded and swiped on the touch pad. The next moment, the 3D projection on the conference table changed, and when it reappeared, it was already a horrifying ruins and a terrifying giant sinkhole.

The switch between the exquisite and spectacular architectural masterpieces and the devastating ruins made many elders have slightly stern expressions. Their golden eyes under black clothes carefully observed the ferocious steel bars twisted like snakes in the ruins, as well as the truncated steel bars in the spectacular sinkhole. The subway and the rock formations and mud that surge through the fault.

"This is the current scene of the South Railway Station." Angers said, looking at the shocking devastation on the ground.

"How long did the process last from the first to the second?" Mr. Maxwell asked aloud. He did not ask what happened immediately, but pointed the question to a more core and critical point. The elders of the secret party always looked at things from a so spicy and deadly perspective.

"Less than ten minutes," Angers said.

"So the cause was a natural disaster?"

"Yes, not entirely right." Angers said, "After all, it depends on how you define 'natural disaster'."

"The definition of natural disasters throughout the ages is catastrophes caused by the poor operation of celestial bodies, or non-man-made disasters caused by the chaos and collapse of the earth's ecological environment." Mr. Maxwell gave a precise definition of 'natural disasters'.

"Can the dragon clan's activities be regarded as natural disasters?" Angers looked directly at Mr. Maxwell and asked.

There were even louder whispers on the conference table. Everyone was aroused by Angers' question, and the only burning pupils on their withered faces all radiated amazing light. No matter how the years change or how haggard their bodies are, they will always be so enthusiastic and passionate when facing the dragon clan's problems.

"Of course." Mr. Maxwell said slowly: "The meaning of natural disasters also includes natural variations caused by human activities. In the eyes of the Dragon Clan, human activities themselves are an unforgivable sin, so they never hesitate to bring disasters. In the history of hybrids, the meaning of natural disasters has always retained a detailed explanation of one entry: huge disasters caused by dragons."

"But not all dragons are worthy of the meaning of 'natural disaster'." Mr. Turing said, "And not any natural disaster can make you call us together to discuss it."

"Of course it's not an ordinary dragon that can cause such damage in ten minutes. If it were a normal dragon awakening event, of course there wouldn't be so many old immortals summoned to a meeting." The vice principal said lazily while lying on the chair. He looked up and scratched his butt.

"So, Master Flamel, is the theme of this meeting to discuss the disaster caused by this dragon?" Mr. Maxwell looked at the vice principal.

"Yes and no." Angers answered the question on behalf of the vice principal.

"Please speak more clearly."

"If you want to get a clear understanding of the theme of this meeting, I don't think I should answer this question. After all, it was never me who convened this meeting." Angers shook his head.

"Aren't you the convener of this meeting?" Mr. Turing asked subconsciously.

"I just prepared this meeting at the request of the school board, don't you think so? School director Frost Gattuso?" Angers turned his head and looked at the blond middle-aged man at the conference table who had been silent from beginning to end. The person asked calmly.

Under everyone's gaze, Frost Gattuso stood up indifferently, "This meeting was convened by a vote of the school board. There are two topics for the meeting discussed with the elders. Next, I will explain to you illustrate."

Immediately afterwards, everyone in the conference room heard Frost Gattuso's calm tone, but the content was deafening and terrifying.

"I announce that the themes of this elders' meeting are: the possibility of early awakening and first contact of the 'Lord of the Earth and Mountain', and the case of Cassel College's 'S'-level student Lin Nian's violation of the "Abraham Bloodline Contract" regulations. A vicious betrayal!"