At this time, Jiang Hai had no idea how highly these tourists thought of him.
Nor did he know how fiercely the name of Winthrop was spreading through their social circles. When these travelers returned home, the things they brought back sparked a new wave of excitement.
Initially, the plan was to wait half a month before sending out a second tour group. However, demand surged so much that they had to organize the second trip within a week. This time, over 80 people joined—nearly double the number from the first group.
As the second group arrived, preparations for the third group were already underway…
Unknowingly, Winthrop had become popular—unexpectedly so—but undeniably popular.
This, in turn, boosted the sales of Jiang Hai's seafood. For the Chinese visitors, delicacies like lobster, abalone, and sea cucumber were highly prized. Many of them had traveled there specifically for these treasures.
Of course, at this moment, Jiang Hai remained unaware of all this. When he eventually learned about it, he merely smiled. To him, selling seafood to domestic tour groups was just a small bonus. The real profit lay in volume sales.
At that moment, he was in a presidential suite in New York, gazing at the scales on his body, ready to fall asleep at any moment.
Yes, Jiang Hai's scales were finally almost complete. But considering how he had fainted for an entire day after obtaining the dragon pearl and had been unconscious for three days when his python evolved into a dragon, he had no idea how long he would be out this time. If the pattern continued, he might faint for a week—maybe even ten days.
Staying home for such a long time without showing up would surely raise suspicion.
If it were just Darlene and Marianne at home, he wouldn't have minded. But with Bernice, Xiaoya, and Azarina also there, he had to be more cautious. After much deliberation, he decided to leave home for his upgrade.
With only a dozen vacant spots left on his scales, Jiang Hai left the manor and drove straight to New York.
He rented a presidential suite in a five-star hotel and instructed the staff not to disturb him for cleaning. He also ordered a large amount of food and informed the hotel manager that he was a writer on a creative retreat, needing complete solitude. To ensure his privacy, he paid a month's rent upfront.
The hotel staff didn't particularly care about Jiang Hai's explanation—eccentric guests were not uncommon. If he never emerged from the room, at worst, they'd only lose a month's rent. Some guests had caused similar concerns before.
In reality, Jiang Hai had some worries about the hotel as well. He feared that someone might break in while he was mid-upgrade, causing trouble. At the same time, upgrading in an isolated location carried its own risks. Sinking into the sea might have been a viable option—unless his water-breathing ability failed during the transformation. What if a sea creature attacked him? He had too many uncertainties to consider.
Ultimately, a luxury hotel seemed like the safest choice.
However, upon arriving in New York, his upgrade progress slowed considerably. Back at his manor, he had been gaining over 20 scales per day. Here, he could only grow five or six a day. Fortunately, with only a dozen left, the process wouldn't take too long.
On the first day, nearly two-fifths of the remaining scales had formed. By the end of the second day, only three spots remained.
Jiang Hai became extra cautious. That day, he didn't even wear clothes, keeping constant watch on the final three scales.
When only one remained, he took a final glance in the mirror, used the restroom, took a deep breath, and lay down on the hotel's large bed. He kept his eyes on the television, awaiting the inevitable moment.
Finally, the last scale slowly formed. As soon as his scales were complete, Jiang Hai's mind went blank.
Just as he had anticipated—he blacked out again.
In Jiang Hai's sea of consciousness, he witnessed the same scene from his previous upgrade.
Dark clouds filled the sky, strong winds howled, and the world seemed to be on the brink of destruction. Amidst this apocalyptic chaos, a golden dragon roared against the storm, its mighty presence shaking the heavens.
Jiang Hai knew this dragon was a manifestation of himself, but he had no idea what the dark clouds and raging waves represented.
The golden dragon raged against the storm, as if struggling against an unseen force, gathering energy in defiance. The entire space felt on the verge of collapse under its power.
"Heaven and Earth are merciless; they treat all things as mere straw dogs."
Suddenly, a deep voice echoed through the heavens. Before Jiang Hai could react, a bolt of purple lightning descended from the sky.
Instead of retreating, the golden dragon surged forward to meet the lightning head-on.
*Crack!* With a deafening roar, the lightning clashed with the dragon, scattering into countless arcs of electricity before dissipating. However, the dragon's golden radiance dimmed slightly.
"Is this… transcending a tribulation?" Jiang Hai thought. Though he had never experienced it himself, he had read enough novels to recognize the signs.
As if in response to his realization, a second bolt of purple lightning struck down.
The dragon coiled in the air and charged again. Another deafening explosion rang out. The lightning shattered, and the dragon remained standing, its roars echoing through the heavens.
Then came the third bolt… the fourth… the tenth… the twentieth… the thirtieth…
One after another, relentless bolts of lightning struck the golden dragon.
At first, the dragon remained unwavering. But after the thirtieth strike, its golden glow had nearly faded.
Yet, it did not waver. It faced the lightning with sheer determination, enduring each strike with its resilient body.
By the forty-second bolt, the dragon was finally knocked backward, sent flying like a ragdoll. Jiang Hai's heart clenched.
He knew he *was* the dragon. If the dragon failed, would he still evolve? He had no choice but to watch.
Fortunately, the dragon wasn't an ordinary beast. Though it had been blown away, it quickly recovered, rising once more despite the fresh wounds on its body. Blood gushed from its injuries, but it roared defiantly.
The sky seemed to respond in anger. Another bolt fell—twice as thick as before. Still, the dragon did not retreat, charging straight into it. The impact sent it crashing into the ocean, but only for a moment. It emerged again, gasping for breath.
Jiang Hai could tell—the dragon was exhausted. But it could not afford to fall. This was a calamity it had to endure.
The forty-fourth bolt came, burning away its dragon whiskers. The forty-fifth left a massive scar on its face. The forty-sixth cost it a horn. The forty-seventh took a leg and blinded one eye.
By the forty-eighth strike, the dragon stopped using its head to block and turned its tail instead. The moment the lightning made contact, the dragon's tail was obliterated. One-third of its body was gone, yet it remained standing, glaring defiantly at the sky with its remaining eye.
The heavens seemed to hesitate, as if enraged by this dragon's defiance. The storm thickened, and arcs of purple lightning gathered ominously in the clouds.
The dragon, undeterred, continued to stare at the sky.
Finally, after an eternity, a purple beam of light—far beyond mere lightning—descended, striking the dragon with overwhelming force.
The dragon's scales disintegrated, its flesh scattered. Under the relentless assault, only its skeleton remained.
Yet within that skeleton, a glowing white dragon pearl radiated with newfound brilliance.
(To be continued.)