Chapter 549: Dancing with Dragons (Part 2)

Granted, the members of the Dragon Hunting Corps had a “record” of hunting dragons, but upon observation, it became clear they held no deep-seated grudge against the Dragon Race.

They were just professionals paid to do a job. It was just business, and their performance happened to be a little too outstanding.

Besides, the Dragon Race had inflicted plenty of harm on other races, too. An eye for an eye—it was all just a messy, unsettled score.

So, the best outcome would be for the Dragon Race and other races to stop dwelling on past conflicts.

That’s Zhuo the Zeroer Ge for you.

And the results were quite good. The Warriors of the Broken Tooth Corps quickly hit it off with the Juvenile Dragons—er, not in the literal, physical sense.

The younger members of the Broken Tooth Corps loved playing with the Juvenile Dragons. And the Juvenile Dragons, who had never had anyone to play with and had boundless energy to burn, had finally found some friends.

A win-win.

It perfectly matched the original theme of *Dragon Tamer*.

Speaking of which, Juvenile Dragons really are a species well-suited to be “pets.”

They’re energetic and easy to raise. Although they eat a bit much, they’ll eat anything and aren’t picky. They almost never get sick, they’re cute when they’re young and handsome when they grow up, and once they know you, they become very affectionate. Dragons love to snuggle and hug.

The only problem was that they snuggled a little too hard. It was easy to get “snuggled” to death…

As for the other background Dragons needed for the film, Zog didn’t have that many on hand. He’d have to rely on Illusion Techniques. The sheer number required made it difficult, but thankfully, they didn’t have much screen time and were purely for the background, so they didn’t need to be too detailed.

Zog had only provided the script; he wasn’t directing the film. The entire production was handled by Zog Film Studio, whose crew was now quite experienced.

So why was Zog on Dragon Island today?

The acting bug had bitten him.

He was going to play a major role in *Dancing with Dragons*: the root of all evil, the malevolent, obese Dragon King who forced the Dragon Race to raid Human settlements out of desperation!

That’s right. Zog was once again going to “kill himself off” in a Shadow of Evil he had funded.

The Dragon King in *Dragon Tamer* was a bit too large—even bigger than Zog’s true form—so he had to enlarge himself for the role.

But in the original story, that Dragon King was kind of a “fat-headed dragon.”

Its head was ridiculously large.

That wasn’t easy to replicate, so he had to scrap the idea.

This had a slight impact on filming. Specifically, on the way the “Night Fury” was supposed to defeat the Dragon King: by shooting its fire blast into the Dragon King’s mouth, causing the King’s own fire to ignite and explode internally.

That move was useless on Zog. He could take a direct hit from the Little Black Dragon’s fire blast without a scratch.

It did, however, place a high demand on Nick, who had to accurately aim his fire blast while moving at high speed.

They’d probably have to shoot it dozens of times.

Zog dug for half an hour, barely managing to excavate a hole big enough to stuff himself into.

“Alright, places! Break’s over, actors!”

“On your feet, lads! Time to get to work,” the leader of the Broken Tooth Corps called to his men.

They didn’t have a large part in this scene. Their main role was to just mill about on the warship and gawk at the battlefield.

The leader hoisted his War Axe. It was a family heirloom—a ceremonial axe, characterized by being ornate and completely useless.

Perfect for filming a Shadow of Evil.

Since switching to firearms, he hadn’t used an axe in almost a year.

The members of the Broken Tooth Corps were well-trained and quickly fell into formation on the warship. Their acting, however, was a bit lacking. They showed no signs of pre-battle tension; instead, every last one of them was buzzing with excitement.

“Look tense! Don’t you know how to look tense? You! What are you grinning about like an idiot?” the leader barked, supervising his men.

He was an old Warrior with a strong sense of honor and wouldn’t allow his men to drag down the production.

“What’s there to be so happy about? Do you think it was easy for me to get you this precious opportunity?!”

To be honest, the leader quite liked his new job. It didn’t make him rich, but the income was more stable than before.

Catching a Dragon used to pay well, sure, but the combat losses were high. There was the cost of ammunition, medical bills for the wounded, and if they were unlucky enough to lose a brother, death benefits to pay out.

This job was an easier way to make money, and it wasn’t life-threatening, was it?

‘Well, not *completely* without danger,’ he thought.

Just two days ago, one of his men was playing fetch with a little Silver Dragon. The Juvenile Dragon got too excited, pounced on him, and broke his bones.

“Get ahold of yourselves! Don’t embarrass us!”

“We’re not embarrassed! We’re not embarrassed at all! We’re the Broken Tooth Dragon Hunt— ah, no, the Dragon Seeking Corps,”

one of the corpsmen said, and everyone on the boat erupted in laughter.

The leader said nothing, his face just flushed red.

‘So much for my dignity.’

In hindsight, that “grovelling surrender” of his was undoubtedly the correct decision, though it was also undeniably hilarious.

It had become the corps’ favorite joke, one he heard a dozen times a day from different people.

The leader had no doubt the story would follow him for the rest of his life. Every time they drank from now on, it would be brought up at the table.

‘So much for my dignified image. It’s gone for good.’

He decided to change the subject. “Enough chatter. If you’ve got this much free time, you’d be better off reviewing the script.”

“But Leader, I can’t read. Hey, how do you spell ‘Dragon Seeking Corps’ again?”

“HAHAHA, that’s a new one! And a good one!”

The boat once again erupted with laughter.

At Zog’s command, the entire film crew sprang into action. Lighting, set dressers, and prop masters scurried about.

“Where’s our star? Where’s our big star, the Little Black Dragon?” Zog asked. “Get him onto the boat. Put him in his shackles and get him ready.”

“Over there.”

Zog looked in the direction the crew member was pointing. A glossy Little Black Dragon was spinning in circles like an idiot, furiously chasing its own tail.

Ever since the prop department fitted that “steering” prosthetic to his tail, he’d started chasing it whenever he was bored. He probably wasn’t used to it.

It couldn’t be helped. Unlike the real Toothless, his tail fin wasn’t missing a flap. It was basically just a sleeve over his real fin, so it was bound to be uncomfortable.

“Toothless, are you a Dragon or a Cat? Get ready, you’re on standby,” Zog urged.

Hearing his name, Nick snapped his head up and saw the mountain-sized Zog.

“I’m not Toothless, my name is Nixela! And I have teeth!” Nick added, baring his fangs for emphasis.

“Alright, I get it, Toothless. You’re Toothless-with-teeth. Now can you please go to your mark on the boat, Toothless? If you don’t perform well, you’re not getting any lunch.”

Zog extended a claw and nudged Nick into position.

‘Sigh. Such a brat.’

‘This is exhausting.’

…

「A few hours later.」

Take fifty-six. “Ready…”

Zog sighed helplessly and retreated back into his cave. To be honest, he was tired.

Not physically, but mentally. This was torture.

Expecting Nick to aim his blast accurately was, admittedly, a bit of a high bar.

“Action!”

Zog was running on pure muscle memory, going through the motions. Emerge from the cave, breathe fire, circle with the other Juvenile Dragons, wait for the actor playing Little Hiccup to release Toothless, then deliberately slow down and throw the fight, staging the chase scene…

「Two minutes later.」

“Whoopee, he missed again! Fantastic! My blood pressure isn’t spiking at all!”

Zog was starting to look a little unhinged.

That’s what happens when you work too much.

“Forget it! That’s a wrap for today! We’ll shoot again tomorrow. I’ll think of another plan, one that doesn’t rely on the kid’s aim. We’re done for the day!”

Zog roared, shrank down to a smaller size, found a comfortable rock to flop onto, and prepared to browse some videos. He’d just sleep here, and figure out a new plan when he woke up.

He skillfully connected to the Divine Remains Network and opened YouTube.

‘Let’s see what kind of weird stuff is on here now.’

‘”Saving the Snow Child?”‘

‘What’s this, a fan video?’

‘If I remember correctly, the animation team did produce something for *Snow Child*.’

Zog had left a bunch of scripts with the animation team for them to work on independently.

He opened the video.

He was expecting a tearjerker, but the comment section was full of things like “This is cursed,” “Run,” and “Give me back the eyes I had before I saw this”…

‘What the hell?’

In the video, a snowman shaped like the Snow Child was gradually melting, on the verge of becoming a puddle.

Then, a familiar figure appeared: Little Deer.

He was carrying a large box, which he slammed down over the snowman.

“Want to help the Snow Child live past the winter? Then hurry and buy an Igor Magic Energy Refrigerator…”

“…”

Zog’s eyelid twitched.

‘Of course,’ he thought. ‘The internet was inevitably going to devolve into absurdist nonsense.’