Chapter 308 - 239: Filming Complete

Chapter 308: Chapter 239: Filming Complete

「Late at night.」

Zog’s home. The bedroom.

In the pitch-black room, two glistening, golden orbs were terrifying to behold.

They were Furin’s eyes.

Eyes filled with resentment.

She was sulking, all by her lonesome dragon self.

A few hours ago, Zog had sent her a message saying he had an urgent short film to shoot, and then he’d gone completely silent.

He wasn’t reading her messages or answering her calls.

’He’d vanished!’

Furin was willing to bet that annoying red pest Zog had snuck off for a gaming session.

Because she had also contacted Doudou, and Doudou wasn’t replying either.

Usually, when this happened, it meant the two dragons were in the middle of an intense gaming session, automatically tuning out all external messages.

If she was wrong, she would call Zog "daddy" next week.

Although she had no idea why he was so obsessed with being called "daddy."

Furin’s teeth grated together.

’I’m not sleeping!’

’I’m going to catch Zog red-handed when he sneaks home.’

’And then I’ll make him call me mommy!’

Furin sat in her nest, growing angrier the more she thought about it.

’Are games really that fun? Am I really less appealing than a few small figures from an Illusion Technique?’

If Zog were here right now, he would have answered without a moment’s hesitation.

Yes, those little Illusion Technique figures were indeed more appealing than she was.

They were the culmination of months of effort from a host of Illusionists, combined with the crystallized wisdom of countless creators from another planet.

How could that not be more appealing than a Golden Dragon bully who had enjoyed picking on other dragons since she was young?

He would definitely have to get the last word in.

As for how to apologize after he’d had his say, well, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

In the silence, Furin heard the sound of claws landing gingerly on the floor.

Since the whole house smelled of Zog, her sense of smell was of little use at a time like this.

But judging by the way he was moving like a thief, it had to be Zog.

A real thief would never be able to break through the Protective Magic here.

"CREEEAAAK—"

The door hinges let out a seductive sound.

Then, a red figure backed into the room, not even daring to breathe.

He must have learned his lesson from the door opening too loudly, because he closed it by pinching the edge with his claws and inching it shut.

Having finally completed this difficult maneuver, Zog let out a sigh of relief and prepared to face the next major challenge.

How to climb into the nest without a sound.

It wasn’t that Zog didn’t want to just sleep outside the nest; he didn’t even need a couch to sleep, he could just plop down on the floor.

But if Furin woke up in the morning and found he wasn’t in the nest, Zog would have to face the wrath of an Ancient Dragon.

Staying out all night + morning crankiness = Utter terror!

Zog wiped the nonexistent sweat from his brow and turned around.

"AHH!"

"AHH!"

"You scared me to death!"

"You scared me to death!"

"Why didn’t you turn on the lights? It’s the middle of the night!"

"Can’t I just not want the lights on? What are you yelling for?"

"If you saw two golden orbs flashing in a pitch-black room like will-o’-the-wisps, you’d be scared too!"

The lights flipped on, and the room fell silent. The two dragons stared at each other, wide-eyed.

Zog wasn’t actually scared. The moment he saw those two golden orbs, he realized Furin was waiting for him, and he could tell—even with his butt—that she was furious.

So, Zog deployed one of the most effective tactics for romantic disputes: the preemptive strike.

Never mind logic or reason; the goal was to bluff his opponent and shift her focus away from the original point of her anger.

However, Furin was clearly no simple Dragon. She saw through Zog’s ploy in an instant. After being stunned for only a few seconds, she got right back on topic.

"Where were you playing so late? Why didn’t you answer my messages? Do you not love me anymore?"

Furin unleashed the deadly triple-question combo.

Zog swallowed hard, his mind racing.

Any experienced friend would know that no answer would be of any use in this situation.

So—

Don’t answer!

Zog now prepared to deploy the second highly effective tactic for romantic disputes: seizing the moral high ground.

He took a moment to mentally prepare himself. It was time to put on a show.

Zog put on a wronged expression, the kind that said, ’I’m working so hard, how could you be mad at me?’

"Wasn’t I working? I finally got some dirt on the Church and came up with a great idea to film a short video to frame the Mammon Sect. Of course I had to rush to get it filmed before their sect makes a move. I’m doing all this so we can have a more peaceful life in the future! And you’re accusing me?"

"No, I, that’s not what I meant."

Furin was suddenly flustered, unable to make sense of the situation. It seemed as if she was the one who had made a terrible mistake.

"I’m so disappointed. How could you distrust me like this, slandering me by saying I was out playing? It hurts. I was clearly filming all night, racing against time, not daring to rest for a single moment."

Zog said it all with such conviction.

In reality, the short film was less than five minutes long. With Sam wearing a plague doctor mask, it had been finished in just half an hour.

In the short film, Sam directly demonstrated the curse, proving that it contained elements of a Divine Art that only the Church could use.

Zog had even done a preliminary edit and planned out the final cutting style.

He took inspiration from the "previously on" segments at the start of American TV show seasons—the kind with flashing images, no complete plot points, and a cryptic narrator.

All that was left was to find some footage of Steam Engines and curses together.

Although he didn’t know what it would look like if the Mammon Sect themselves were to film it, Zog’s design would definitely fit everyone’s stereotype of the sinister sect.

After finishing the simple shoot and the rough cut, Zog hadn’t worked at all for the remaining few hours of the night.