"Owen is an ancient dragon species?"
The golden-haired youth, his unruly locks cascading down to his shoulders like a mane, looked surprised as he gazed at the elderly, white-haired headmaster before him.
"Not exactly. To be precise, the current 'Owen' is a dragon disguised as him—not the human Owen we once knew."
"Ah, I see. So, what do you want from me? I thought you already assigned someone else to handle dragon hunting. I'm only responsible for dealing with otherworldly creatures now."
Reclining lazily in his chair, the student council president showed no intention of adjusting his posture, not even in front of the highest authority of the academy.
"But that 'someone else' isn't here now. You're the only one in the academy who can handle this matter."
"So, you want me to be his substitute?"
"Kaiser, as student council president, shouldn't you be focusing on the seriousness of the situation rather than semantics? Don't you realize how dire things are? An ancient dragon species has infiltrated the academy and is brazenly exposing its presence."
"I know. The dragon devoured your collection, left traces to taunt the academy, and bruised your ego. Now you want to teach it a lesson, right?"
"Watch your words. You're part of this academy too," George said, massaging his temples as if trying to stave off a headache. "You're also being provoked."
"Alright, fine. What's your plan then?"
"This dragon is tricky. It can transform its body into wind. To kill it, we must catch it off guard. Otherwise, we won't even be able to hurt it."
"That's quite the ability. What makes you think I'm the right person for this?"
George ignored Kaiser's veiled reluctance and took out a black, gold-edged case. He slid it across the table toward Kaiser and opened it, revealing a crimson bullet gleaming like a ruby, nestled in soft velvet.
"This is a bullet made using a Philosopher's Stone. You've used one before. If you can shoot it into the dragon's skull before it reacts, there's a good chance it will destroy its soul completely."
"And if I fail, I die. No thanks." Kaiser glanced at the bullet with disinterest, showing no intention of touching it. He knew full well the risks of using such a weapon.
The fact that these old geezers were willing to pull out this trump card proved how terrifying this dragon must be. The Philosopher's Stone bullet was a weapon fit for killing even dragon kings.
"If you won't step up, are you suggesting I do it instead? An old man with one foot in the grave?" George chided, though there was a faint smile on his face.
"You're welcome to it. At your age, it's the perfect opportunity to shine one last time and leave a legacy for us younger folks," Kaiser quipped, smirking.
"Do you even hear yourself?"
"I'm just stating the facts. From a lineage standpoint, I'm technically not fully human. I'm a dragon-blooded hybrid."
"If you're admitting to being dragon-blooded, maybe I should consider using this bullet on you."
"Just joking. Of course, I'm human. My bloodline's just a little… special."
"So, are you taking this mission or not? Or do you really want an old man like me to handle it?"
"I'll take it," Kaiser said with a cocky grin. "Let's be honest—there's no one better qualified than me to hunt a dragon."
"Good. The entire school will assist you in this operation."
The Revelation
"So, they've found me already. Not bad," Muria muttered as he strolled through the campus in the guise of Owen, aware of the dozens of eyes monitoring him. He had scanned the entire academy with his mental powers and confirmed that no one else was under such close scrutiny.
The game was up. His identity as a dragon had been exposed.
Despite this, the humans hadn't directly confronted him. They seemed content to maintain a façade of normalcy for now. Students passing him on the forested campus pathways behaved no differently than usual.
But Muria knew this peace wouldn't last. An academy dedicated to dragon slaying could never tolerate a dragon openly living among its students.
The Incident at the Library
While Muria sat quietly in the library reading, a black-haired boy with a nervous expression approached and sat across from him.
"Owen, I…" The boy hesitated, as if unsure how to begin.
Before he could finish, a sound like thunder roared through the library.
Bang!
A silver flash tore through the air, shattering the glass, ripping through shelves, and sending books flying. The bullet struck Muria squarely in the forehead.
Clang!
The alchemical bullet, designed specifically to kill dragons, collided with Muria's brow. Instead of penetrating, it deformed into a crumpled lump of metal and fell to the floor with a sharp clink.
The boy across from Muria turned pale. Seeing someone take a bullet to the head and survive was horrifying enough. Realizing that the "person" before him wasn't human made it even worse.
Terrified but resolute, the boy pulled out a pistol, aimed it at Muria, and fired.
Bang!
The crimson bullet struck the exact spot where the first bullet had landed, piercing straight into Muria's skull.
"You…" Muria's smile froze. His expression turned from amused to exasperated. "You really are an ungrateful brat."
Muria's body slumped to the ground.
The library erupted into chaos. Students who had been quietly reading moments ago suddenly pulled out concealed weapons, their faces cold and determined. They encircled Muria's fallen form, guns and blades drawn.
Several students began firing wildly at Muria's body, determined to make sure he was truly dead.
Amidst the commotion, armored soldiers burst through the shattered windows, weapons at the ready.
Then, a groan broke through the chaos.
Muria sat up, yawning lazily as if waking from a nap. Stretching, he looked around at the tense faces staring at him.
"Relax," he said, smiling. "Despite the rude welcome, I'm not the type of dragon to kill indiscriminately."
"You… What are you?" a voice trembled. An elderly man with white hair and a commanding presence stepped forward.
"Good afternoon, Headmaster," Muria greeted with a cheerful wave. "I assume that bullet was your ace in the hole? If so, I must say, it was quite disappointing."
"That bullet should have killed even a dragon king. How are you still alive?"
Muria plucked the deformed bullet from his forehead and held it up. "You call this a dragon killer? Please. True dragon kings wouldn't even notice such a thing."
"Are you… a dragon king?"
"Of course," Muria said with a faint smile, "though not the kind you're familiar with."
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