Dragon Clan: My Dad is Ange

The burly German man gave a vague response, grabbed the steak with his greasy hands and stuffed it into his mouth.

He tore the medium-rare steak into strips, and myoglobin dyed the corners of his mouth red.

When the last piece of foie gras disappeared into Fingle's bloody mouth, he burped with satisfaction and collapsed in the chair like a sated brown bear.

"Cool!"

Finger patted his bulging belly, his napkin casually draped over his shoulder. "Junior, I'm determined to be your friend!"

"You don't know how this school treats D-grade students. When I go to the cafeteria, I can only eat the free sauerkraut stewed pork elbow, and occasionally I can try a red wine steak."

Finkel kept complaining.

Moonlight streamed through the blinds, drawing a silver dividing line between the two of them. Ye Fan slowly wiped his hands and suddenly asked, "Are you full?"

"So full I could kill a dragon with one punch!"

Fingle grinned, with a few specks of sauce stained in his white-blond hair.

"That's good."

Ye Fan stood up, his joints cracking like popping beans, and said, "Come with me to the training ground for a fight."

The air solidified instantly.

Finkel's smile froze on his face and the toothpick slipped from his fingers.

"Are you kidding me, junior?" He chuckled. "A D-rank loser like me isn't even qualified to warm you up."

Ye Fan did not answer.

He walked up to Fingel, his golden eyes burning in the darkness.

That gaze reminded the strong German man of the wolves on the Siberian snowfields - cold, precise, and able to see through all disguises.

"Senior," Ye Fan said softly, "You know I'm S-rank."

"It may sound a bit boastful, but I'm actually a bit stronger than the average S-rank, and my perception of bloodline is also stronger, do you understand?"

In fact, Ye Fan remembered that in the original book, Finger said to Chu Zihang and Lu Mingfei: If it is based on your current standards, then my bloodline is also S-level.

The other party can even use the bronze throne under Flamel's commandments, which has proved his excellent bloodline.

Not to mention that the other party can also use the strange Dark Demon Blade.

It was definitely not possible to let such a strong opponent's fighting power decline. Ye Fan chose to help the opponent improve his bloodline and awaken the fighting skills in his body.

Finkel's pupils suddenly contracted.

He subconsciously tensed his muscles, and the chair groaned under the weight. The air between them seemed to be sucked dry, even the moonlight froze.

"The blood flowing in your body," Ye Fan continued, "is not some D-grade stuff."

The silence lasted for a full minute.

Finally, Finkel sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I knew I couldn't hide it from a true S-rank."

He stood up with a wry smile, his bones crackling. "But, junior, some things are not as simple as they seem."

Ye Fan nodded: "I understand. In front of others, you are still that loser who has failed a grade for six years."

He paused. "But here, in front of me, there's no need to pretend."

"Even the sharpest knife will rust over time and needs to be sharpened regularly. I'm happy to serve as a whetstone."

Finger's expression changed.

The cynical decadence receded like a tide, replaced by a long-dormant edge. When he looked up again, the light in his golden eyes was purer than any half-blood Ye Fan had ever seen.

Since my junior classmate has said such things, as a man I shouldn't refuse the invitation.

"The training ground is in the northwest corner," Finkel's voice was low and dangerous. "There's no one there at night."

Chapter 123 Defeat Finger

The night wind swept across the spires of the Gothic buildings, making ghostly sobs. The two walked along the shadows, and the moonlight stretched their shadows very long.

The iron gate of the training ground was rusty, and Finkel broke the chain with one hand, his movements as light as tearing a piece of paper.

"Are there any rules?" Ye Fan asked, moving his wrist.

"No need for words, just pure physical combat. If I use words to break the rules, the vice-principal will be unhappy."

Finkel pulled off his T-shirt, revealing his muscular upper body covered in scars. "We'll fight until one side surrenders."

The next second, the German strongman appeared in front of Ye Fan. The punch was so fast that it tore through the air, with a sound that made people's teeth ache.

He has to teach this junior a lesson!

Ye Fan dodged sideways, but was still hit on the cheek - the burning pain made his blood boil.

"Nice speed." Ye Fan licked the blood from the corner of his mouth and smiled.

It is indeed a real S-level, and in terms of strength alone, Finkel is even above Ange.

Finger didn't answer. He lowered his center of gravity like a true beast, and his muscles looked like they were coated with silver in the moonlight.

When Ye Fan attacked, he blocked and counterattacked with an almost precognitive instinct, and the sound of fists and feet colliding echoed in the empty training ground.

The two figures crossed each other at such a speed that they left afterimages.

Finkel's moves were simple and each strike went straight to the vital points. It was an instinct honed through countless life-and-death battles.

Ye Fan's response was even more relaxed. He deliberately controlled his strength to keep the contest in a delicate balance.

"You're leaking fluid." Finkel panted, sweat dripping down his strong chest muscles.

"Same here." Ye Fan wiped the sweat from his forehead. "You still have at least 30% of your strength left."

The burly German man suddenly laughed, and that smile reminded Ye Fan of a hungry Arctic wolf.

"Then don't blame the senior."

Before he finished speaking, Finkel's speed suddenly increased, and he kicked Ye Fan's temple with a whip kick.

This time Ye Fan didn't completely dodge. He crossed his arms and took the blow head-on, sliding several meters away, leaving two charred marks on the wooden floor with the soles of his shoes.

"That's more like it."

Ye Fan shook his numb arms, his golden eyes burning like molten gold.

He no longer held back, his attack suddenly becoming fiercer. The wind from his fists tore through the air, and each blow carried a devastating force.

Finkel was able to hold his own at first, but as time went on, his movements began to slow down.

Ye Fan's fists rained down like a torrential rain, and the German's defense gradually collapsed. Finally, a precise uppercut hit the chin, and Finger's huge body fell to the ground.

"Give up?"

Ye Fan looked down at him, his breathing steady as if he had just experienced a fierce battle.

Finkel lay on the ground laughing, blood oozing from the corners of his mouth.

"happy!"

He wiped his face. "I haven't felt this good since... that incident."

"It feels good, right? Then do you want to eat something else?"

Ye Fan took out a small velvet bag from his pocket and poured out a blood-red crystal. The crystal glowed strangely in the moonlight, like a solidified flame.

"This is a dragon blood crystal, an alchemical artifact I'm researching."

He handed the crystal to Fingel's mouth:

"It increases the purity of your bloodline, and can reach the critical blood limit as long as your will is strong enough."

Fingle's golden eyes shrank slightly.

"Do you know what you're doing?"

He hissed, "This thing might turn you into Deadpool."

"Not for you." Ye Fan's tone was so firm that it was frightening. "I can see that your spirit is much tougher than your appearance."

The burly German man stared at the crystal for a long time, and finally opened his mouth.

The crystals melted in my mouth, and the hot liquid flowed down my throat.

In an instant, all the blood vessels in Fingel's body lit up, and it seemed as if magma was flowing under his skin.

He arched his body, roared in pain, and his muscles expanded and contracted at a speed visible to the naked eye.

When the pain finally subsided, Finkel found himself kneeling on the ground, sweat forming small puddles beneath him.

But strangely, the haze that has been lingering in my heart for many years seems to have eased a lot, and my mind is as clear as the sky washed by rain.

"How does it feel?"

Ye Fan squatted in front of him and asked.

Finkel raised his head, and the light in his golden eyes was purer than before.

"Like... being reborn."

"It feels really great. All my previous illnesses have healed, and my muscles and bones are full of vitality."

He slowly stood up, feeling the power surging in his body:

"Junior, who are you?"

Ye Fan smiled and did not answer.

He looked at the moon outside the window. The silver light shone on the two of them, stretching their shadows very long.

"Remember our agreement,"

Before leaving, he said, "In front of others, you are still that useless senior."

Finger touched the bruise on his chin and grinned: "Don't worry, I'm a professional actor."

But when Ye Fan turned around, he added softly:

"But junior, next time we fight, I won't give up so easily."

"If you can really beat me, I won't feed you this stuff anymore."