The Dragon Fall Files: 1939

Novel's core setting

•Worldview: Yingkou in 1939 is, on the surface, a chaotic port under the puppet state of Manchukuo—but in reality, it’s a place where the “Dragon Vein” has lost its spiritual power. In this world exists a creature known as the “Earth Immortal.” Dragons aren’t divine beings; rather, they represent the ultimate evolutionary form of Earth Immortals. To fall from the heavens—this is divine retribution.

• Core Conflict: Japan’s Kwantung Army “Black Dragon Society” is attempting to dissect the fallen dragon in order to extract the “Elixir of Immortality.” As the sole person who knows the truth, the protagonist must bury this “demonic dragon” once and for all—caught between competing forces: warlords, the Japanese army, and mysterious tomb guardians.

• Creative Highlight: Combines elements of Chinese folk legends and the style of mockumentaries. Introduces the concept of “living fossils”—dragon’s blood possesses extremely strong radiation and parasitic properties, causing irreversible deformities in anyone who comes into contact with it.

Chapter One: Bloody Rain

The 28th year of the Republic of China, sixth month of the lunar calendar.

In the wind at the mouth of the Liao River, there was a peculiar, unprecedented aroma—a sweet-salty tang that wasn’t quite like the stench of rotten fish or dead shrimp. Rather, it was as if someone had tossed several thousand jin of pig iron into fermenting sorghum liquor, then mixed in the fetid smell of decaying flesh—so suffocatingly intense that it made it hard to breathe.

I’m Chen Mo, the accountant for the cargo-handling operations at the Yingkou dock. That evening, the sky had grown as dark as if a pot had been inverted over it. Muffled thunder rumbled overhead, yet not a single raindrop fell. Everyone on the dock was thrown into a panic, saying that the weather was about to change, and they hurriedly began hauling in their nets and returning to their ships.

“Mo Ge, look at that—what is it?”

Gangzi pointed toward the reed beds downstream of the Liao River, his voice trembling like a sieve being shaken.

I squinted and looked out, and there it was—a dark, massive “mountain” lying motionless in the murky river water. The thing was enormous, stretching across the river’s surface and completely blocking the rushing currents. With the occasional flash of lightning, I caught a glimpse: the “mountain” was covered with dark-brown scales, each as big as a millstone, coated thickly with sticky mud and unidentified aquatic vegetation.

“Is that a stranded whale?” I forced down the unease in my heart and tapped the ship’s side with my pipe.

“Unlike... how could a whale have long claws?” Gangzi swallowed hard.

Another bolt of lightning struck—its pale, blinding flash illuminated the side of that thing. The pipe in my hand clattered onto the deck with a sharp “plop.”

That’s not a whale.

That creature had a slender, snake-like neck and a head that resembled a horse’s, yet it bore two antler-like branches. What was most chilling was that it had four enormous claws on either side of its belly, deeply embedded in the silt at the riverbed. Its tail lashed out to one side like a whip, its tip forked—just like the kind old folks used to describe.

“Swallowtail.”

“Dragon... it’s a dragon!”

The boat captain let out a bloodcurdling scream and immediately collapsed onto the bow of the ship. “A calamity has fallen from the heavens—this is going to bring a great flood!”

Just then, the massive body suddenly twitched.

“Roar——”

A roar unlike that of any creature in this world echoed from the surface of the river. The sound was deep and hoarse, tinged with a harsh, metallic screech that made my eardrums ache and left my chest feeling heavy and tight. Immediately afterward, a visible black mist erupted from the monster’s seven orifices, instantly enveloping the entire reed marsh.

“Run fast! Don’t look back!” I grabbed Gangzi, who was frozen with fear, and plunged into the waist-deep mud and water, sprinting madly toward the shore.

A huge splash of water echoed behind me—like something was frantically slapping the surface of the water. I didn’t dare turn around; instead, I felt a chill run down my spine, as if a pair of cold, vicious eyes were staring intently at the back of my head.

We ran back to the dock warehouse in one breath. Dozens of people huddled together, each too afraid to speak a word. The pungent stench outside grew stronger and stronger—so strong that it even drowned out the fishy smell from the docks themselves.

About half an hour later, the roar of a car engine came from the distance.

Several military vehicles adorned with the Rising Sun flag pulled up by the riverbank, and glaring searchlights instantly illuminated the “dragon.” A group of people wearing white lab coats jumped out of the vehicles, each holding a variety of strange-looking instruments.

“That’s the Kwantung Army’s Epidemic Prevention and Water Supply Unit…” In a corner of the warehouse, an experienced old porter murmured to himself, “How did they end up here?”

Through the dilapidated window of the warehouse, I saw a Japanese man wearing a black trench coat standing before the dragon’s head. In his hand he held a conductor’s baton; far from being intimidated by the colossal creature before him, he seemed instead to be gazing at a rare and priceless treasure.

He swung his sword sharply and chopped off a corner of the dragon’s whisker.

The fallen dragon writhed violently once more, its massive tail sweeping across the water and instantly capsizing two fishing boats. The river boiled, bubbling with eerie green foam.

“Baka!” the Japanese man cursed, then turned and shouted to his subordinates, “Seal off the site! Bring back the ‘sample’! This is the key to the Great Japanese Empire’s quest for the secret of immortality!”

I clamped my hand tightly over Gangzi’s mouth, not letting him make a single sound.

That night, Yingkou was hit by a black rain. As the raindrops struck the ground, they sizzled and hissed, sending up plumes of white smoke. I knew that this dragon wasn’t quite dead yet—and that the real disaster was only just beginning.

Because in the brief glimpse I caught before fleeing, I saw that beneath the dragon’s belly scales seemed to be wrapped around something—a mummified corpse dressed in Qing Dynasty official attire, rising and falling gently with the dragon’s breath.