I'm in the Dragon Clan, bound to the Naruto Counterattack System

The Lamborghini Reventon was traveling at 60 kilometers per hour through the streets of Shinjuku.

For this supercar, inspired by the F-22 Raptor fighter jet and limited to only 21 units worldwide, this speed is nothing short of a snail's pace.

Cheng Sui was getting sleepy from sitting for so long, and couldn't help but say, "So you called me here just to go for a walk with you? This doesn't even qualify as a stroll."

"There are too many people and too much attention in the city, and 60 kilometers per hour is already the maximum speed limit in Shinjuku." Genji pulled the car over to the side of the road, opened the door and got out.

Cheng Sui also got out of the car: "I didn't expect that a gangster's son like you would be so law-abiding."

"We're gangsters, not terrorists, so we still have to obey traffic laws."

"Japanese law also stipulates that you can't drink alcohol before the age of twenty. The principal said you drank two glasses of whiskey in his office when you were nineteen. So, are you going to turn yourself in to the police station now?" Cheng Sui curled her lips. "Just like in 'The Chrysanthemum and the Sword,' you Japanese are stubborn yet fickle."

Yuan Zhisheng didn't speak; he always did, too lazy to argue with others.

"Speak, what is it?" Cheng Sui leaned against the car door, arms crossed, signaling Yuan Zhisheng to speak quickly.

"That biker gang attack wasn't carried out by our main family," Genji said quietly, looking at the Shinjuku street scene below the highway.

Cheng Sui nodded noncommittally: "And then?"

"Here, we always feel that the main family is the main family and the headquarters is the headquarters." Genji tried to take out a cigarette to light, but found that the cigarette pack was empty, so he simply put his hands in his pockets. "Especially the older generation, they feel that things in Japan should not be involved by people from the headquarters, so they are extremely resistant to the specialists from the headquarters and do not allow the headquarters to find out any information about Japan."

"And what about you?" Cheng Sui asked. "They all call you Young Master. If nothing unexpected happens, you'll be the next patriarch, right? What are your thoughts on headquarters?"

Yuan Zhisheng's gaze was unfocused, and he said in a low voice, "I don't know."

"And then what? You don't just want to tell me that, do you?" Cheng Sui changed the subject.

"There has long been a dangerous mixed-race group in Japan," said Genjiro. "Recently, a new type of psychedelic drug has been circulating widely in the Japanese underworld. It is actually a reagent that catalyzes bloodlines. I have been investigating this reagent recently and found that it is related to that mixed-race organization."

Cheng Sui's heart stirred slightly. He had been thinking about how to conduct the investigation on the reagents, and now, the person in charge had taken the initiative to invite him.

"That dangerous mixed-race group is called the Demon Clan, and we have confirmed that they were the ones who planned that attack," said Genjiro.

"Evidence?" Cheng Sui wouldn't easily believe one side of the story.

"Members of the Fierce Ghost Clan have unique tattoos. If you'd like to see them, I can take you to verify," Genji said. "However, tattoos can be faked, so I can't confirm that with you. You don't necessarily have to trust me; joining is up to you."

"What would happen if I didn't join?" Cheng Sui looked at Yuan Zhisheng's waist. He had noticed the two long swords hanging from Yuan Zhisheng's waist when they first met.

"To be honest, if it were anyone else, I would knock them out, lock them up, and provide them with three meals and water every day," Yuan Zhisheng said calmly, as if he were talking about something as trivial as eating and drinking. Only then did he seem like a young yakuza boss. "But you are an exception. I can't guarantee that I can beat you."

"You're making it sound like you can beat everyone else in headquarters except me. If I refuse, are you going to send me back to Inuyama's parents' place and make me spend a month surrounded by women?"

Yuan Zhisheng nodded; in fact, this was the only thing he could do.

"Staying cooped up in a women's den is so boring," Cheng Sui shrugged. "When are we going to make our move?"

"Tomorrow then, you should rest today." Genji tossed him the keys. "Can you drive?"

"I know a little, but I don't have a Japanese driver's license," Cheng replied.

Yuan Zhisheng got into the car: "It's okay, just drive. I'll handle any traffic police we encounter."

"You said it."

Cheng Sui sat in the driver's seat. Compared to Caesar's Bugatti Veyron, this Lamborghini looked much more aggressive, with even the seats designed like those of a fighter jet pilot.

"Of course," Genjiro said confidently.

But he soon regretted it.

This limited-edition Lamborghini is named Reventon, with a curb weight of over 1.5 tons. The name comes from a bull that killed a bullfighter in 1943, which shows Lamborghini's original intention in designing this supercar.

If the supercar was as docile as an ox in Yuan Zhisheng's hands, then in Cheng Sui's hands, the ox has completely transformed into a furious fighting bull.

The engine was instantly boosted to maximum power, and the speed reached 100 kilometers per hour in just three seconds. The huge acceleration pressed Yuan Zhisheng firmly into the seat.

Cheng Sui's Sharingan, visible beneath his black contact lenses, had been activated. The traffic seemed to slow down dramatically in his eyes. A gust of wind rushed in through the car window, whipping his black hair upside down. Cheng Sui simply swept his hair back, turning his black, tousled hair into a slicked-back style.

"Fasten your seatbelt," Cheng Sui kindly reminded him.

The Lamborghini, shaped like a fighter jet, roared into the traffic, cutting straight into the flow of cars, like a silver-gray fish constantly weaving through the traffic.

Several cars behind were forced to brake suddenly by Cheng Sui, blocking the entire street haphazardly. The drivers got out and cursed, but all that was left for them was the Lamborghini's bright red taillights.

Yuan Zhisheng straightened his back and gripped the car's handrail tightly. He used to think that Ying was the wildest driver, but compared to Cheng Suiyi, he felt that Ying was as gentle as the girl next door.

The sports car shot into the capital's high bay coastline like an arrow, the scenery outside the window blurred into patches of color due to the high speed.

The speed continued to climb, and soon it broke through 200 kilometers per hour. Cheng Sui's gear shifting was smooth and fluid, and the car weaved through traffic. Every lane change was precise and without any error.

The dial pointer pointed to the 170 mark, and Genji felt as if he had almost collided with the car next to him. The thrill he hadn't experienced in a long time surged into his heart.

Cheng Sui smiled slightly, then suddenly pulled the handbrake, and the car body drew a perfect drift arc on the bend, the tires screeching as they rubbed against the ground.

"How are you feeling?" Cheng Sui asked Yuan Zhisheng.

"Once the police find out, you and I will be the new legends of the bayfront." Genji's tone was unusually relaxed. At this moment, he seemed to have taken off his executive bureau trench coat and turned back into a young man racing with his companions.

"Since I've come all this way to Japan, I have to leave something behind."

As Cheng Sui spoke, he steered the sports car off the highway, onto a quiet side road, and finally stopped next to a 24-hour gas station.

"Why did we stop here?" Genji asked.

"The gas tank is almost empty." Cheng Sui got out of the car, bought two cans of coffee from the vending machine, and handed one to Yuan Zhisheng. "If we get chased by the police later, I don't want to break down halfway because I'm out of gas. That would be too embarrassing. It's better to get out now."

Yuan Zhisheng was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter. This was the first time he had truly laughed heartily all day. The two of them leaned against the car, and from a distance, they looked like two good friends going for a drive together.