There was a dead silence in the room, except for the "click" of the wall clock.

These young people all come from excellent mixed-race families, are the elite of the new generation, and are the spokesmen of the family.

Their sense of sight and hearing is far sharper than that of humans, and some of them are natural marksmen who can easily hit targets up to a kilometer away with an ordinary military rifle without optical sights.

But no one saw the scene clearly.

There seemed to be a moment in Ange's actions that had been cut out of thin air, one moment he raised his glass, the next moment it landed on the moustache face, and the folding knife was pressed against the mustache's throat.

The biting chill remained in the mustachioed young man's throat, and he clutched his neck and let the golden liquor flow, and the crumbs of the glass were embedded in his face, but the damage was far less than that of the folding knife, which seemed to have no killing power.

Everyone's shirts were soaked in cold sweat, and they sat there, trying to remember the moment time was cut off, the scorching majesty that erupted from Ange's body, a spontaneous realm that arose with the burning of blood.

According to the legend of the ancestors, dragon slayers could not look directly into the dragon's eyes, because looking directly at such creatures would destroy the hearts of anyone who was not strong-willed, and even destroy their souls.

Long Wei!

Henkel dipped a handkerchief in an ice bucket and handed it to the injured young man: "Wipe your face. It's okay, I didn't expect anything from him, just to test his attitude, you're doing a good job."

"Oooh."

The young man took the handkerchief and pressed it to his face in a panic, the ice water mixed with the wine, and the bright red blood flowed all the way down, staining the cuffs of his shirt red.

"It seems that our action this time will not be supported by the secret party." Another young man said.

"Not necessarily, at least he didn't leave anything in each of your throats, and that's the biggest gain."

Henkel turned to the injured young man: "You have already touched his bottom line just now, and if you can save a life, it is already his mercy."

"The bottom line?"

"Dead companions."

Henkel struggled to his feet on crutches: "Whether it's a half-breed or an ordinary person, Ange values his companions more than you can imagine."

"He is already in his 130s, and the old man in his 130s should have prepared the coffin and listened to his grandson's story peacefully."

"But as he sat quietly in front of me drinking champagne, I felt his body tense and ready to jump at any moment, like a crocodile before a hunt."

Henkel pulled open the drawer and pulled out two old golden revolvers.

He unloaded a bullet and placed it on the table, a 0.5-inch Magnum pistol bullet.

This bullet can knock over a hippopotamus with a single shot even if it is not modified, and the head of this bullet is engraved with a mysterious pattern unique to alchemical weapons.

Alchemy Wheel "Texas Dawn".

The young people looked at each other and knew that they had been too rash with Angers.

Henkel hadn't come up with the alchemy revolver that had written the history of the half-breed for many years, and he was already the leader of the high-ranking family among the half-bloods, and it was no longer his job to use force.

But when he met Ange, he was always armed.

"I can't help but be wary of him face to face, I'm about the same age as him, but I'm already dying old, and he's still alive and well like a young man."

Henkel paused, played with the pair of alchemy wheels in his hands, and sighed softly: "I really envy his youth, and that wildfire-like ...... Desire."

"That's it...... Forget it?" A young man broke the silence.

"Ange is different from Frost Gattuso, but there is no doubt that they are both standard slaughterers, and anything that touches the dragons is sand in their eyes, and if they don't want to die, take their hands back as soon as possible."

Henkel walked over to one side of the wall and knocked on it: "Ange is gone, come out."

A small red door hidden in the wall

opened, and the middle-aged man walked out silently.

A silver-gray suit, shiny leather shoes and a rose gold watch, the luxury of a body matched his tall body just right.

The young people stared at his feet in unison, his steps firm and soft, with a strong sense of rhythm.

What a confident debut!

A strong interpretation of the positioning of an "elegant and successful man", this man can completely replace Sean Connery to endorse LV's travel bag.

He sat down in a chair across from Henkel and didn't say hello to anyone.

He stepped into the room where the leaders of the half-blood families gathered, as if he were in a no-man's land.

Henkel raised his eyes and glanced at him, "We've got you sorted things out this time."

"It's something to celebrate."

The man pulled out a bottle of wine from the ice bucket, took two more glasses, poured them and placed one of them in front of Henkel, moving as smoothly as if he were the owner of the one.

Han raised his glass, the agave shook in the glass, and a curled butterfly larva was soaked in the brown liquor: "Because of this incident, our side is going to lose two families, don't you think you should make up for something?"

"Compensation?"

The middle-aged man smiled: "You must have reaped a lot of benefits from my experiments over the years, if nothing else, let's just say that you ...... Mr. Henkel."

The middle-aged man looked Henkel up and down: "It's really good, you were already old when we first met, but now you can still pick up your wheel and drink the top quality of pure blue agave grass from Tequ Town......

The man skillfully sprinkled a little salt on the tiger's mouth in his left hand, picked up a slice of lemon, raised his glass with his right hand, stared at the butterfly larva curled up in the brown wine, and took a deep breath: "What a pure man's wine!"

He took a sip of lemon, stuck out his tongue to lick the fine salt clean, tilted his head heroically, and swallowed the whole glass of tequila, and then spit the worm into the silver platter loudly and powerfully.

He looked at Henkel, his pupils a dark gold different from ordinary half-breeds, deep as night.

"That's a miracle in itself, isn't it?"

Henkel was silent for a moment, then placed the wheel full of Magnum bullets in his hand on the table: "Aren't you worried that I will hand you over to Ange?"

The middle-aged man smiled: "Even if Ange suspects you about this matter, he will not think of a family that has withdrawn from New York and left the United States for more than ten years."

"You thought of it from the beginning."

"That's why I didn't start experimenting until I got to New York."

Henkel drank the tequila in the same vein: "You are much more cunning than your father, Francis."

"You're much more cunning than I am, Mr. Henkel."

"It's a great misfortune that the Rockefellers have provoked you."

"No, it's just a choice of fate."

"What about the Franz family? Are they the seeds you planted in New York, and they just threw them away?"

"It's fate, too."

Francis stared at the glass: "The fate of the seed is either to grow into a towering tree or to rot in the ground, and from the moment they become outcasts, their fate is already sealed."

"What a cruel family."

"We're just on the path of destiny."

The two looked at each other and smiled, clinking glasses in the confusion of the young people around them, and decided the future of the two families in a few words.

One of them is Rockefeller, who can influence the economy of the United States and even the world.

After drinking all the wine in the cup, the middle-aged man tidied up the suit on his body: "This body is useless, you can dispose of it yourself."

After speaking, his body shook and fell.

Henkel picked up the Texas Dawn that he had just placed on the table and aimed it at the head of the man at the table.

"Bang!"

The middle-aged man who was still tasting wine elegantly just now has turned into a crushed watermelon.

The young people around him tightened, and they all began to look at their noses and noses.

Henkel wiped the gun with a handkerchief: "Find a few people and clean up this place."

After saying that, he left on crutches.

Ange sat in the driver's seat with a cigar in his mouth, was silent for a while, and suddenly started the engine, and the accelerator pedal was pressed to the end, and the Maserati jumped out of the water like a shark, and the rear tire rubbed against the ground and billowed green smoke.

The frantic acceleration pinned the stout old man directly into the seat of the racing car.

This is the effect of this car with full power, in just half a minute, it is close to 400 kilometers per hour, I am afraid that only the world's fastest sports car Bugatti can achieve, at this speed on the ordinary highway, like using an old shotgun to fire a cannonball!

The highway, which used to have not many cars, suddenly became crowded, and if you overtake one car at such a high speed, you will undoubtedly meet the next car quickly.

The Maserati swept past one car after another in a strange arc, and the cars behind it honked in horror, and the horns were stretched out and quickly thrown down because of the extreme speed.

For a Ferrari traveling at 200 km/h, the car brushes past it as if it were a pedestrian standing still.

The relative speed is 200 km/h!

The maniacs of the armament department debugged it! There's no doubt about it!

Ange's Spirit of Words is a "Time Zero" that can extend the effect of time, and once he releases it, the speed is far from enough, similar to that of a bicycle.

A crazy old man who likes to drive fast, and has this kind of speech, how can the car not be just a beast that runs to the edge of losing control?

Obviously, there is no retrograde, but the car in front of it is like driving head-on, and the parallel action draws Martha's exhaust in an arc, and the light and shadow outside the front windshield are dazzling.

The old guy Ange put on sunglasses at this time and sang some old song loudly in the sun!

He actually knows very well that whether it is Rockefeller or the family at the beginning of F, they are just scapegoats that have been pushed out.

Behind them may be standing a half-breed family, standing a large number of medieval nobles, and standing half of the half-breed realm.

But none of that mattered, if they really cooperated with the dragons, then Ange would have really slaughtered everyone present on the spot, and then made up a reason for the collective Deadpool to get out after the fact, no problem at all.

But Ange didn't do that.

Want to become the new dragon...... It's a matter between half-breeds.

In Ange's view, these things are harmless.

Even if these "idealistic" guys become new enemies after destroying the dragons, it is a problem after the dragons are destroyed.

Even putting aside the inhuman society, this kind of thinking cannot achieve absolute unity within the half-breed alone.

And it's not like Angers won't do anything.

That's why he exists.

Every time he flew over London, Angers would look down, looking for the River Cam, and then along the River Cam for the Bridge of Sighs......

A hundred years ago, there was a school rule in Cambridge where students who broke the school rule were punished for thinking by the bridge, and the students always sighed while thinking.

Cambridge is not what it used to be, but Angers still cherishes it.

Today's Cambridge is to Angers a phantom of the Cambridge of a hundred years ago, but he still can't help but go back there again and again.

Standing there, you will feel warm, you will faintly smell the breath of a hundred years ago, and the white silk dress and Oxford-style white heels in your memory will come alive again.

Ange had no relatives, his best friends were dead, he lived a miserable life in a half-blood, and there was not much left of the world for him.

What if you kill all the dragon kings?

Will Cambridge be repeated?

Will my friends ever come back to life?

The girls who used to admire will also jump out of the grave, and

Do they also become dry husbands who divorce and run to Ange's arms?

Wearing Anges' favourite white silk dress and oxford-esque heels?

No, none of this can be done.

But!

He still can't allow it to be ruined!

If Cambridge is destroyed, there will be no place to remember.

If the Kassel Academy is destroyed, Ange will live up to the promise of his friends in the Lionhearts.

If you destroy the tombstones of the girls you have had a crush, play with them.

These are the last of these meanings in life......

Although it was as ethereal as a phantom in the floating light......

But it's the only thing he has in his life.

Ange squirted the cigarette butt out of the car with all his might.

Eternal life......

These so-called "new dragons" are trying to steal the power of dragons, and they will one day become enemies, but now, they are all living forces against dragons.

He would send them all into battle as the sharpest sword to destroy dragons, even if he strapped an alchemy bomb to them.

Both the new and old dragons will be buried on the battlefield in this war, and the old ones will erect their tombstones with their own hands.

That's the life of this old guy.

A life that has lived for more than 130 years but has been dying generously, a life that is always rushing forward at high speed and not knowing when it hits a wall, it will be shattered, and when you are used to it, you can sing loudly and be fearless.

He was such a lonely and powerful man.

Driving a luxury car, wearing a custom-made suit, and carrying a beautiful young woman is very strong, like a ridiculously old playboy, but there is a fierce energy buried in his heart, once exposed, it is really as intimidating as the folding knife that never leaves his body.

(End of chapter)