Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei's War Journey

Lu Mingfei was unaware of what had happened on that street after he left. At that moment, he pushed open the door of a bar that looked to be doing good business.

The bar was filled with flashing neon lights, deafening electronic music pounding against eardrums, and the air thick with the scents of alcohol, perfume, and hormones.

The crowds swaying on the dance floor, and the men and women flirting at the bar, were all brimming with primal vitality and desire.

Lu Mingfei was still wearing that heavy down jacket that seemed out of place with his surroundings. He ignored the surprised, curious, and even slightly mocking glances he received and walked straight to the corner of the bar to sit down.

"What would you like to drink?" The bartender wiped the glass, glanced at him, and asked in a flat tone. Working in a bar, he was used to all sorts of strange people.

Lu Mingfei paused for a moment. The money he had swindled from those three thugs was neither a lot nor a little; it should be enough for him to have a good meal today.

"Whiskey, no ice," Lu Mingfei said, recalling the whiskey he had drunk in the cabin earlier, the dizzying feeling of which suited him perfectly now.

The bartender didn't say anything, and quickly pushed a glass of amber liquid in front of him.

Lu Mingfei didn't drink it immediately. He just watched the liquid swirling in the glass. The neon lights broke and reformed in the liquid, as if reflecting his fragmented heart and memories.

He picked up his glass, took a small sip, and the spicy liquid slid down his throat, bringing a familiar burning sensation. But this time, it didn't dispel the chill much; the alcohol seemed unable to dispel the cold either.

He was like a lonely island floating in a noisy ocean, the surrounding revelry irrelevant to him, he alone bore that hellish memory and heavy sins.

Just then, a slightly flippant voice rang out beside him.

"Hey little brother, aren't you hot wearing so much? Or... are you doing some kind of performance art?"

Lu Mingfei turned his head and saw a young woman wearing a sexy halter dress and heavy makeup leaning against the bar, curiously looking at him.

Her eyes were glazed over, and she seemed a little drunk, clearly seeing Lu Mingfei as some kind of interesting person.

Lu Mingfei did not answer, but simply looked away and continued to stare at his wine glass.

The woman, seemingly feeling ignored, leaned closer, her breath reeking of alcohol, almost hitting Lu Mingfei's face: "Hey, I'm talking to you, what are you pretending to be cool for? How about I buy you a drink?"

As she spoke, she reached out to put her hand on Lu Mingfei's shoulder.

Just as her fingertips were about to touch Lu Mingfei, Lu Mingfei suddenly raised his head.

There was no embarrassment or interest in being approached in those eyes, only a deep wariness, like a wild beast whose territory has been invaded, ready to attack at any moment.

He didn't make any obvious movements, but the aura of "keep away" that instantly emanated from him made the woman's outstretched hand freeze in mid-air.

The woman's smile froze, and she seemed to sober up considerably. She looked into Lu Mingfei's eyes, which held no youthful shyness or impulsiveness, only a deathly stillness that chilled her to the bone and a hidden danger.

She awkwardly withdrew her hand, muttered "crazy," and then turned and walked away somewhat embarrassedly.

Lu Mingfei acted as if nothing had happened, lowering his head again to look at the remaining wine in his glass. However, the woman's appearance still reminded him of Nuonuo, as well as Nuonuo's last words.

Chicago.

Chicago is so big, where in Chicago could he possibly find Nono? Besides, going to Chicago would cost a lot of money. He's a poor student now, and he has to rob thugs to afford drinks. Where would he get the money to go abroad?

With that thought in mind, Lu Mingfei downed the drink in his glass in one gulp, then handed the glass back to the bartender.

"Another one, please."

The bartender looked at the strange young man with seemingly good drinking capacity with some surprise, but didn't ask any questions and silently refilled his glass.

Lu Mingfei drank whiskey one glass after another, and gradually his head began to spin as the alcohol took effect.

"Nono..." he murmured the name unconsciously. Chicago... so far away, as far as an unattainable dream.

Money, status, access... each of these was a huge obstacle standing in his way; he was just an ordinary student.

He didn't know how many drinks he had, only that the bartender reminded him that they were closing time. He dazedly pulled out his crumpled bills, paid the bill, and was staggered out of the bar.

The world spun around him, neon lights stretched into blurry bands of color, and deafening music seemed to still linger in his eardrums, buzzing.

He leaned against the cold wall, stumbling along the empty street, his stomach churning and his throat burning.

The alcohol did not dispel the cold; instead, it acted like a greasy film, enveloping the ice in his heart and making him feel even more nauseous and uncomfortable. The illusions and whispers that had been temporarily suppressed now returned with even greater force, fueled by the alcohol.

"Why didn't you shoot just now...? Weren't you decisive when you killed us...?"

"Lu...does our meat taste good?"

"Monster...you're more like a monster than we are..."

Twisted faces flashed in his swaying vision, and sounds overlapped and intertwined, piercing his nerves sharply.

"Shut up... all of you shut up! I'm not a monster!" he growled at the empty street, his voice hoarse.

He waved his arms, trying to shoo away the non-existent figures, but he stumbled and almost fell to the ground.

He then leaned against the wall of a dimly lit alley, breathing heavily, his forehead soaked with sweat mixed with the smell of alcohol.

In a daze, he pressed the revolver in his arms against his temple. He had an urge to pull the trigger, and the vengeful spirits around him kept urging him to fire.

But then he remembered Nono and her words.

"I won't allow you to die! You absolutely cannot die!"

"Damn it..." Lu Mingfei cursed under his breath, then threw the revolver into the trash can next to him, and the noise immediately disappeared.

His world finally quieted down. The alcohol had completely taken hold, and before he could even react, his body slid down the wall, curled up on the cold ground, and fell into a deep sleep in the smelly alley, unconscious.

-----------------

"Hey... young man... wake up, wake up..."

He didn't know how much time had passed, but in a daze, Lu Mingfei felt someone gently pushing his body. He struggled to open his eyes, and the glaring sunlight made him squint instantly.

It was already daylight.

He saw an elderly man with a wrinkled face, wearing an orange sanitation worker's vest, standing next to him, holding a large broom in his hand.

"These young people nowadays, so young and already so bad, drinking like this and sleeping on the street, what kind of behavior is that! Judging from your appearance, you must still be a student, right? Hurry up and get ready for school! You'll be late if you keep dawdling!" the old man nagged on.

The old man nudged him again with the broom handle, his tone becoming more stern: "I'm warning you, if I see you dead drunk on the street again, I'll sweep you into the trash can like garbage! You're just garbage anyway!"

Hearing the sanitation worker's words, Lu Mingfei was stunned. Yes, today was Monday, and he was a student who had to go to school.

This realization, so ordinary, forcibly pulled him back to this routine, mundane, and troublesome reality.

He struggled, using his hands to support himself on the cold ground, and stood up unsteadily.

The hangover gave him a splitting headache, muscle aches all over his body, and his mouth was filled with an indescribable bitter taste.

He glanced at the trash can again; it was empty. He wondered if the sanitation worker had taken it, or...

He shook his still-dazed head and stopped thinking about it.

"Thank you," he whispered to the still-rambling old man.