Chapter 298 - 294: He Is Not Worthy

Chapter 298: Chapter 294: He Is Not Worthy

Thanks to the great success of the Transformation Technique, Qin Xiaoxia felt the original research plan could be revised.

The other branches would only need to handle the preservation of Demon and Magical Creature tissues and the collection of special materials. The crucial production of Magic Potions and Magic Steel could be handled entirely by headquarters.

Within Dawn’s point system, in addition to the Flower of Life and Vermilion Fruit, there was finally a more stable and substantial reward item.

The key factors limiting the current production rate and total output had now shifted to the consumption of Magic Energy Crystals.

For a considerable time, production capacity would fall far short of demand.

The Flower of Life and Vermilion Fruit were one thing—everyone would receive a certain share. But Magic Potions and Magic Steel were different. Aside from granting some privileges to key individuals, everyone else would have to compete for them fairly using points.

...

Peter sat in a biology lecture at Munich University, bored out of his mind.

He had stopped working on the design in his notebook.

"Whoa... Peter, your drawing is amazing!!!"

His friend pointed at the illustration in Peter’s notebook, scarcely believing his buddy had such incredible artistic talent.

"Did you go to the United States as a biology exchange student, or did you go there to study art?"

In the notebook were two very strange weapons.

One was a long-handled weapon. One side of its head was a sharp, terrifying, saw-toothed blade, while the back was excessively thick. The blade itself was far longer than that of a conventional ancient polearm, nearly matching the length of the handle.

The handle was straight, but the blade itself had a slight curve.

The style was masterfully realistic, yet with a touch of striking abstraction that perfectly captured light, shadow, and scale, making it even more impactful than a photograph.

"Is this from some anime? How long is it?"

Even without any scale markings, you could tell from the drawing that it was definitely long.

Peter spun the pencil in his hand and answered casually.

"The blade is 1.5 meters long, the handle is 1.6. It’s not from any game or anime."

"Cool!"

’Looking at it that way, the thick spine of the blade was probably to make it easier to carry on one’s shoulder. As for whether it’s practical or not, who cares about that stuff in anime?’

Dim, a veteran anime enthusiast, quickly imagined its use.

"Why is the blade so long? And why the serrations?"

"Hah... Because the main attack style is sweeping dashes, supplemented by cleaving. It rips through tough bones and also makes it easier for teammates to follow up."

Peter explained half-jokingly, letting out a yawn.

On the other side of the page was a heavy pistol. With its crude, rugged style, it looked like it was made for a monster—more like a cannon than a gun.

"When did you learn to draw?"

"I’ve always been good at drawing; you just never knew. Of course, I’m a gifted student. I finished my required courses in the United States ahead of schedule, so I had time to learn drawing. That’s why I ended my exchange program early, you know? I couldn’t even be bothered to renew my visa."

Dim was skeptical. ’This guy was probably kicked out and sent back,’ he thought, but he still asked,

"Are you drawing this for practice? Is it your own design?"

Peter glanced at his friend’s face, which was practically screaming ’I’m interested,’ and closed his notebook.

"These are my lovers, the ones I long for day and night. I dream of making them mine..."

’Too bad I can only dream about it for now,’ Peter added silently.

These were weapons from an internal catalog of the Silent Knight Order. Although none had been forged and they were still in the design phase, Peter had fallen in love with them at first sight.

An entry on the margin of the catalog page described them: "Main material: titanium alloy, forged with an admixture of Magic Steel. Incomparably sturdy and exceptionally sharp."

This was also the first time Peter had encountered the term "Magic Steel." He had asked a fellow member to look up the relevant files and finally understood just how precious a substance it was.

Then, to his despair, he discovered that the number of points required for the weapons in the catalog was so high that for a probationary member like himself, he really could only dream about them for now.

As they were chatting, they realized class was supposed to have started, but the professor hadn’t arrived yet.

"Hmm, looks like the professor might have had something come up."

In Germany, many people are extremely particular about punctuality, and the old professor for this class was especially so. He would step into the classroom precisely thirty seconds before class started—never early, and absolutely never late.

Sure enough, a teaching assistant came in a moment later to explain that the old professor had fallen on campus and pulled a muscle. The lecture was canceled.

Just then, a notification chimed from a special chat app on his phone.

He unlocked the screen. On the third page was a cartoonish app icon: a smiling yellow sun.

Using his Perception, he confirmed no one around him was paying attention, and Peter opened the message.

’A mission!’

The organization had combat missions and assigned missions, but also random missions and duty missions.

The first two were self-explanatory. A "random" mission was like this one: available for any conveniently located member who wanted to earn points. A "duty" mission was when you stumbled upon a Demon; you had to handle it to the best of your ability—engage if you could, stall for time if you couldn’t.

...

Location: Munich, Germany, 119 Tulip Road.

Acceptance Conditions & Recommendations: For the first 5 minutes, members within a 50 km radius will receive this notification. For the next 10 minutes, members within a 100 km radius will be notified. After 20 minutes, the mission is open to all members regardless of distance.

Content: Investigate an old property of the organization. Confirm its state of repair and the status of its owner... Without attracting attention, attempt to engage the homeowner and ascertain their knowledge of Dawn...

...

The mission briefing was quite detailed, covering requirements and key points to watch out for. The rest was left up to the operative’s discretion.

Peter had heard that the organization was gradually starting to reclaim old, well-preserved properties like this one. He never expected one to become his ticket to earning points today.

’Talk about a convenient location, hehe!’

He took a closer look and saw that the mission status already showed 1/2 accepted. He’d almost forgotten he wasn’t the only member nearby and hurriedly accepted it.

A green "Success" message appeared for him, and the mission status updated to 2/2. His racing heart finally calmed down.

Inwardly delighted, Peter was about to pack his things and go find the building when he suddenly overheard something that made him freeze.

In the tiered lecture hall, about ten meters diagonally behind him, a group of male and female students were chatting animatedly.

One young man was holding forth. Though he kept his voice low, Peter’s enhanced hearing picked up every word clearly.

The conversation had turned to a recently apprehended group of scammers who had been using doomsday prophecies to swindle people out of their money.

One of the guys was dramatically describing how ruthless the scammers were.

"Can you believe it? With their so-called ’ark tickets,’ those guys scammed millions of Euros in just two months. Are people just crazy these days, or are all rich people idiots?"

Frank scoffed at that.

"Ralph, that just shows you haven’t seen the world. Those guys are idiots. Ark tickets? Please. They’re just a bunch of clowns!"

His dismissive tone successfully drew everyone’s attention. Seeing that he had captured the gazes of his companions—including the pretty girl he had a crush on—Frank gave a mysterious smile.

"Since we’re on the topic, let me tell you a secret story that’ll really open your eyes."

He deliberately lowered his voice to create an atmosphere.

"One of my ancestors once joined the world’s greatest organization of swindlers. They were never caught in the act, and no one ever succeeded in getting revenge on them after the fact. They were definitely one of the most terrifying organizations in history. They were exceptionally intelligent, wealthy enough to rival a nation, strictly disciplined, and ruthless... No one knew where they operated, and no one knew their methods..."

"Heh heh, scared yet?"

"You’re not making this up, are you, Frank? How could an organization like that exist?"

Frank had expected someone to challenge him.

"Hah. How ignorant. Of course, it existed. Though it has likely vanished into the mists of history by now. The organization was called ’Dawn.’"

It was at that very moment that Peter, who had been about to stand up, froze. He had heard the name of his organization. No matter what, he had to get to the bottom of this.

Frank, however, was oblivious to this, and continued with his ancestor’s story.

"I’m telling you, an ark and tickets? If that terrifying group were brought back to life, I believe they’d actually build a real ark just for the sake of a scam. Of course, I’m just speculating... Put it this way: if those people were like the wise men of old, then by the time they started their con, their groundwork would have already been so thorough that their victim’s IQ would be reduced to that of a baboon."

After Frank gave a simple example, a series of gasps went through the group. Whether they believed him or not, they were enjoying it as a story, and the atmosphere was lively.

"Frank, were the people in your story Mages?"

"See? Someone finally asked..."

Further up, Peter was also listening intently.

Frank took a sip of mineral water.

"That’s what was so brilliant about them. Those people were all ordinary humans. Forget Magic, they couldn’t even compete with the women of their day at starting a fire or cooking a meal. It would be more accurate to say they used stage magic. They relied on their intellect, on their skills as con artists. That’s what made them truly terrifying."

"They always claimed to be Mages and Wizards, always said they were fighting evil, but in the stories passed down from my ancestor, they were just a bunch of swindlers. There was no Magic, there were no monsters. They just branded themselves to perfection. Yeah, they were probably the originators of ’branding’ itself..."

His friends gasped in excitement. True or not, it was a fascinating story.

Further away, Peter froze again for two or three seconds. It seemed he was starting to understand something.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before he heard the words that confirmed his suspicion.

"Frank, so was your ancestor a master swindler too?"

"Bullshit! My ancestor was nothing of the sort... Look, that organization had a Mentor system. My ancestor followed his so-called Mentor for a while, but he failed the assessment and never made it into the inner circle. They just gave him a bit of money and sent him away. But they made him swear a lifelong vow of silence, on pain of bringing disaster to his entire family. And even though that Mentor was apparently pretty good to my ancestor, those people were so terrifying, you knew they’d make good on their threats."

"Huh? Then how did your ancestor pass the story down? And how come you’re telling us?"

"Hahaha, well, my ancestor liked to spin yarns by the fireplace in his old age. Besides, those people had vanished for decades. And me? What century are we in? Dawn disappeared into history ages ago."

"Oh, right. They say the real core members had a mark branded onto the palm of their right hand. Not only was it ugly, but the process was supposedly inhumanly painful. Good thing my ancestor never got it."

Peter subconsciously rubbed his seemingly unblemished right palm. He had only received the Dawn Seal, a symbol of honor and duty, upon becoming a probationary member. That was also the first time he had met the Master Sage. The scene of receiving the seal had been like a hero’s coronation, a moment he would never forget.

He turned and looked in the direction of the voice. It was a young man with brown hair.

’How pathetic. For you and your entire family...’

’Am I angry? Maybe a little. But what does the speculation of an ignorant person matter to Dawn?’

From those few fragments of the story, Peter began to understand why this Frank’s ancestor hadn’t been chosen by his Dawn Mentor.

’He wasn’t worthy!’

PS: Chapter two for Thursday.

I looked at the time. My typing speed is absolute shit...