The Red Dragon Lord is OP, but Insists on a Pop Culture Invasion!

Zog stretched and woke up in his warm dragon’s nest.

He’d personally tested it: Feathered Serpent fur was much fluffier than Chimera fur.

Assistant Zor delivered breakfast on time. Even though it was noon, Zog willfully declared that the first meal of the day was always breakfast.

The meal was a steamer basket of lamb shumai.

The Druids had developed a type of flower whose petals could be used as a spice. It had a numbing taste.

Though it wasn’t a true peppercorn, at Zog’s strong suggestion, it was now called the "flower pepper."

Lamb filling, scallions and ginger, flower pepper water, salt, and home-brewed soy sauce were mixed evenly with bone broth. Then, a bit of cooking oil was added to seal in the moisture. Finally, the mixture was wrapped in dough skins rolled into the shape of lotus leaves and steamed to perfection.

Too bad it was missing a little MSG.

High-quality lamb didn’t need heavy spices to mask any gaminess; simple seasonings were enough to bring out its natural freshness and tenderness.

He took a bite. The slightly chewy wrapper, savory meat filling, and rich juices exploded in his mouth.

Bliss!

Shumai were meant to be filled with meat!

He was still traumatized by the shumai he’d seen in his college cafeteria, which were filled with sticky rice—a true carb-on-carb catastrophe.

Thanks to the new spices cultivated by the Druids, Zog finally had the chance to replicate Chinese cuisine.

He didn’t have any major objections to the native cuisine of Feilin. After all, as a Dragon, he’d eaten plenty of things raw in his time.

But since he was determined to pursue a higher quality of life, he couldn’t afford to neglect his palate.

His goal was to one day open Chinese restaurants all across the Continent.

A meal should have some background music. It was the sophisticated thing to do.

Coincidentally, the musical arrangement for "Let It Go" was finished, and he hadn’t had a chance to listen to it yet.

He activated the Magic Crystal Stone sent by the Zor Band.

A melodious piano intro began to play. ’This sounds about right.’

But then a distorted Arpeggio Harp kicked in, and that did not sound right at all.

It was joined by a heavy bassline and powerful, driving drums.

Zog had a bad feeling about this.

The lead singer, Xiaode, let loose.

"ROOOOAR—"

Zog shut off the Magic Crystal Stone.

’Something’s not right. Was that really "Let It Go"?’

’Did I oversleep and start hallucinating?’

Zog readjusted the Magic Crystal Stone’s position.

He pressed play again.

The aggressive, screaming vocals hit him like a firecracker exploding next to his ear.

It was a death growl. The Zor had done a death metal cover of "Let It Go."

Zog nearly choked on his shumai.

’Creative, but not what I’m paying for.’

It completely contradicted the client’s request.

Fortunately, there were backup options. The other Zor had provided several other arrangements with a more traditional Elven feel.

Those sounded much more like a fairytale.

After finishing breakfast, Zog sipped on an ice-cold cola while listening to his assistant’s work report.

"The Loman Empire has announced a ban on commoners using the forum function."

Zog chuckled. ’What a familiar policy. It has a certain Qing Dynasty flair to it.’

’Free trade will pry their gates open soon enough.’

"However, the Loman Empire will allow High Level Mages to use the forum function after submitting an application and receiving approval from the Royal Mage Association."

Zog nodded. ’Got it. They left a port of entry, but it’s controlled by the rich and powerful. This place really is Feilin’s very own Qing Dynasty.’

"Hey, how are they restricting the commoners? What method are they using? Are they just trying to stop them from getting their hands on the Runes?"

Zog asked curiously. A simple policy against accessing the Runes would be completely ineffective.

"The Loman Empire possesses a nationwide Magic Array. In addition to serving as a Protective Array, it can also restrict specific Magic from taking effect within its borders."

’So they’re restricting the Deer Spirit Rune from working inside Loman.’

What an incredible undertaking. It was a miracle of Ancient Technique magical engineering, something that must have taken generations of the nation’s Mages to complete.

"Then how do the Mages who get approved use the Runes?"

"The Loman Royal Mage Association issues special Runes to the approved Mages. These Runes are essentially an encrypted version of the Red Middle or Deer Spirit Runes, allowing them to bypass the array’s blockade,"

Assistant Zor explained, referencing the documents in hand.

’Holy cow. So it’s a VPN, basically.’

Zog had to give the Loman Empire credit for their shenanigans. They had basically just announced the solution to their own blockade.

"If they can do it, so can we," Zog said, slapping his thigh. "Have the R&D department create an encrypted Rune that changes periodically. We’ll offer it for free to any Lomans who want it. It’s just bypassing a firewall. How hard can it be?"

Assistant Zor dutifully noted this down in a small notebook.

"There’s one more thing. Lori reports that he’s having difficulty co-authoring the teaching materials with Lady Furin. He says he can’t understand the concepts she’s providing at all and has requested the assistance of a mid-to-high level Mage."

"Hmm..."

Zog felt a headache coming on. After visiting the Northern Domain for two days, Lori had thrown himself back into writing the teaching materials.

Coincidentally, Furin was extremely passionate about teaching, but her idea of "entry-level" might have been just a tad different from a normal person’s.

Even though Zog had pulled some strings to get Furin’s posts featured, they still garnered no interest.

This had left Furin on a hair trigger for the past two days, making her question if she even had a talent for teaching.

Zog really wanted to answer "Yes, you don’t," but he didn’t dare say it out loud.

He had originally assigned Lori to the task to solve the problem of Furin being unable to speak "human."

It was also a chance to have her correct the errors in Lori’s own writing, which were due to his limited expertise.

So far, it seemed the collaboration was a spectacular failure.

"Zog!" BANG!

The first sound was Furin’s furious shout; the second was the wail of the wooden door.

Zog expertly yanked a ragged cloth over his nest, a preemptive measure against the she-bandit.

"What’s wrong? Did someone make you angry again? It was Lori, wasn’t it? He’s just too dumb. It’s not that you’re a bad teacher."

Zog quickly took a side to avoid getting burned himself.

Though he suspected Furin’s teaching style was partly to blame for the Illusion School’s low enrollment numbers.

"Lori? It’s not him. But speaking of him, I’m mad about that too! He said my explanation of a Third Ring Spell was unclear. Seriously? Does a Third Ring Spell even need to be taught? It’s something you should get just by looking at it. I can’t understand why anyone would have trouble casting a Third Ring Spell."

Far away in Twin Tower City, the acting CEO of the Zog Group—Elsa, ruling the roost while the tiger was away—sneezed.

"It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll arrange for a Mage to go and teach Lori properly," Zog said. "Want some shumai? It’s a new recipe. I saved these just for you and was about to have them sent over."

’They were actually leftovers from his breakfast.’

"Here, say ’ahhh’—"

Feeding successful. Furin’s rage meter: -1.

Furin being a bad teacher followed the same logic as Michael Jordan being a bad coach.

How do you beat a double-team?

You jump, wait for the defenders to land, and then you shoot.

As if anyone else could learn to do that.

"I came to ask for your help finding out who owns this account," Furin said. "And this stuff you’re feeding me is pretty tasty."

’So she wants to dox someone!’

"To be honest, that’s not really appropriate," Zog said, trying to calm her down. "What did the account do?"

Furin pulled up the post titled, "On How to Use an Invisibility Technique to Cover a 3,000-Square-Meter Castle."

This was a proposed plan for the scene in *Frozen* where Elsa builds her Ice and Snow Castle.

The current plan was to have the actor’s movements trigger the gradual lifting of the Invisibility Technique, creating the effect of the castle being built in an instant by Magic.

The post already had several hundred replies.

It was, by far, the most replied-to post Furin had ever made.

But a closer look revealed that most of them were from a debate between two users: "Golden Dragon Loves Drawing" and "Retired Elf."

The rest were from onlookers drawn in by the highly technical nature of the debate.

"This person keeps insisting my plan is flawed. For every point I make, he refutes it."

Zog skimmed through the thread. The two had already gone from arguing about the fundamental principles of the Illusion School to the very structure of top-tier Magic models.

They had even started quoting extensively from other sources to argue about the common origins of the Transformation School and the Illusion School.

’Interesting.’

And from the tone of the replies, Furin was the one who was about to lose her cool.

’She must have realized her arguments weren’t as complete as her opponent’s.’

But she was stubborn—or, to put it nicely, proud. It was an essential trait for any member of the Dragon Race.

At that moment, Retired Elf delivered the finishing blow.

"There’s no need to continue this debate. You already know you’re wrong; you’re just unwilling to admit it. Judging from your posts, you seem to be a Mage of considerable skill and age. So stop throwing a childish tantrum."

Warning! Warning!

Zog could feel the temperature in the room rising.

Rage welled up in Furin’s heart, and a wicked idea took hold. She began jabbing at the keyboard with her two index fingers, typing with the ferocity of a court stenographer.

"I’m in the Northern Domain, in Winter City! If you’ve got the guts, come find me! We’ll settle this in person!"

"No need for that, no need for that." Zog tried to head off this bizarre real-life fight meetup.

————————

「Meanwhile, in the Elf Holy Land.」

Saint El was so angry his beard was trembling.

The Mage Guild had passed a resolution to support the development of the forums, and as its head, he naturally had to set an example.

So, he registered an account with the username "Retired Elf."

While browsing the knowledge section, he was pleasantly surprised to discover that in addition to beginner tutorials, there was no shortage of high-level content.

As an old Mage of both talent and virtue, he firmly believed that truth becomes clearer through debate.

After replying to a number of posts, his extreme professionalism had earned him widespread praise.

This praise, coming from people who didn’t know his identity and were simply impressed by the knowledge he shared, brought him a satisfaction far greater than the perfunctory flattery he received in real life due to his status.

But just as he was getting into the swing of things, the author of that obviously flawed post on the Invisibility Technique had refuted his points.

At first, he didn’t think much of it. Everyone has moments when they fail to grasp something, so he was very patient and continued to explain in a gentle tone.

But not only did the other party not appreciate his help, they rebutted him with even more aggressive language.

In that case, there was no need for him to hold back.

Saint El was quite satisfied with his counterattack. The person on the other end must be tearing their hair out by now, he figured.

He took a sip of tea, savoring his victory in the debate.

He was very fond of this beverage from Twin Tower City, especially when prepared with spring water from the Elf Holy Land.

’How did Humans, these short-lived creatures, manage to create so many things in their limited time?’

Nature was fair, granting each race its own unique traits.

But having lived for so long, he found himself increasingly drawn to this way of life that burned so brightly for a short time. There was a certain romanticism to it.

A new reply popped up on the screen.

"Winter City! If you’ve got the guts, come find me..."

"KRAK—"

The teacup was crushed in his hand.

"Stubborn! Still so stubborn! Utterly incorrigible!"

Leaning on his staff, Saint El left the treehouse.

"Master, where are you going? The Priest advised you to reduce your travel," a Guard at the door asked.

"To the Northern Domain!"

"The Northern Domain! But what about your health?"

"My health will be even worse if I don’t go!"