Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei's War Journey

Chapter 85 Sakurai Akira

The snow was still falling, and fine snowflakes danced in the air. On the edge of the no man's land, near the Prussian trench, a body dressed in a tattered blue military uniform lay stiffly on the edge of a shell crater.

Sakurai Akira staggered over here, then knelt down in front of the corpse with a thud, reaching out a trembling hand to touch the familiar face covered in frost.

Four months ago, he was in Japan, in that deep mountain prison that his family called a "care school," but which was actually a place where ghosts were imprisoned.

Every day, he longed to escape, to reach that unattainable world of freedom.

Later, a masked man approached him and gave him a syringe, saying that the syringe could give him great power and help him escape.

The instant he plunged the needle into the vein in his neck, he suddenly appeared in a French military camp in 1915 and was given a new name, Thierry Denis.

At first, he was overjoyed. He had escaped his family's surveillance and entered a completely new world, but reality soon dealt him a heavy blow.

The officers in the military camp were rude and domineering, the discipline was so strict it was suffocating, and the training was as cruel as torture. This was not the free flight he had imagined, but rather jumping from an exquisitely crafted cage into a larger and rougher one.

The only thing that comforted him was that he gained friends and comrades-in-arms here. They trained together and complained about their instructors. He would also talk about things from later generations, which earned him unprecedented popularity. Later, they went to the battlefield, and then those close comrades-in-arms began to fall one by one.

The body in front of him now was that of his best friend. He had a dream of writing and publishing a novel, and he would write it whenever he had free time, and then show it to his friend.

His friends loved reading his stories and said they would contact a publisher to help him publish the novel after the war, making him a renowned writer in Europe.

But now he's dead—

"Hey, wanna grab a drink?" Lu Mingfei and Caesar called out from behind the French soldier, waving the wine bottle in their hands.

Akira Sakurai's body visibly stiffened. He didn't turn around immediately, his shoulders twitching slightly, as if he was suppressing something.

"Hey, wanna grab a drink?" Lu Mingfei and Caesar exchanged a glance, instantly becoming alert, but neither made a move. Caesar repeated himself in French.

"His name was Antoine Barbier. He said that after the war, he would take me to Paris, take me to see the Eiffel Tower, and help me become a literary giant—" Akira Sakurai said, trembling all over.

The next moment he turned around abruptly and looked at Lu Mingfei and Caesar behind him.

Lu Mingfei and Caesar were instantly startled, because they saw a face twisted in pain like a demon, and a pair of dazzling golden eyes. This was actually a mixed-race person, and even more unbelievably, it was an Eastern face.

A surge of malevolence began to rise in Sakurai Akira's heart. He wanted to make these Prussians around him pay for his friends' deaths, but the next moment his body froze, because he saw that the two people opposite him had also lit up their golden eyes.

However, Akira Sakurai was not afraid. He took out a colorful syringe from his waist. This was the medicine that the masked man had given him. This medicine had come to this world with him, but it had very serious side effects, so he had never used it. Now, for the sake of his best friend, he decided to use it.

"Brother, calm down. We mean no harm," Caesar said.

"You must have also come into this world suddenly, just like us."

Sakurai Akira's hand froze. The eerily colored syringe was only inches from his neck. He had never imagined that in this unfamiliar era, on a bloody battlefield, he would encounter—his own kind? And from the enemy camp at that?

"Who are you?" Sakurai Akira asked.

"My name is Caesar Gattuso, and his name is Lu Mingfei. Like you, we came to this world inexplicably and want to go back alive," Caesar continued.

"Live on?" Sakurai Akira's lips curled into a twisted, almost manic smile as he pointed to Antoine's stiff corpse on the ground.

"My friend also wants to live! What did he do wrong?! He's just an ordinary person who dreams of opening a bookstore!"

He loved my story! He believed I could become a writer! What did he do wrong to deserve dying in this godforsaken place, being gnawed by rats and frozen solid?!

His voice suddenly rose, filled with sobs and rage, and the light in his golden eyes surged. The family was right; he was an unstable ghost, and now the vengeful spirit had been unleashed, ready to wreak havoc.

Caesar's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. The other party's condition was extremely unstable. Lu Mingfei also tensed up, his right hand seemingly hanging casually at his side, but in reality, he was already prepared to deal with the worst situation at any time.

Hybrids are different from other ordinary soldiers, not to mention the unknown origin of the injection in their hand, which was clearly extraordinary.

"He's not wrong. The wrong ones are this war and the beings who threw us here. If we kill us all, or if we kill you, will he come back to life? Will it make you leave this place?" Lu Mingfei said.

"Do you really have to ruin this hard-won peace?"

Lu Mingfei glanced at the two groups of soldiers who seemed to be getting along well, and continued speaking.

"There is no hatred between us. We are not even from either of these countries. We were forced into this world. If you want to avenge your friend, wait until tomorrow. Let peace prevail for at least one night."

Following his gaze, Sakurai Akira saw the glow of the campfire, several familiar faces from his company awkwardly gesturing to the Prussian soldiers, and even saw Company Commander Bernard sitting and drinking with that Prussian officer.

It all seemed so unreal, yet so—warm.

If Antoine were still alive, he would surely love nights like this, wouldn't he? He would take out a piece of candy he had secretly hidden and share it with his newly acquainted enemy and friend.

Moreover, Akira Sakurai was also somewhat hesitant. He didn't know if he would lose his mind and kill his other comrades after injecting the drug.

Just then, a shout came from the other side.

"Thiere! Hey! Thierry! Come here! There's wine here! And Prussian sausages! They taste good!" That was another soldier in the company who was on good terms with Sakurai Akira.

Upon hearing the French soldier's shout, Akira Sakurai finally put down the syringe in his hand.

"See you on the battlefield tomorrow." After saying that, he didn't look at Lu Mingfei and Caesar again, but put the potion back in his pocket and took one last deep look at Antoine's cold corpse.

He didn't say another word, and turned to walk towards the French positions from which the shouts were coming.

Lu Mingfei and Caesar stood there, watching him being dragged into the trench by several French soldiers, his figure disappearing into the warm glow of the campfire and the faint sounds of laughter.

The golden pupils in their eyes slowly faded, returning to their normal color.

"A hybrid with an unclear speech, carrying a dangerous drug of dubious origin, in the French army—" Caesar said in a low voice, his tone serious.

"This is truly an unexpected bonus."

"It seems we need to be more vigilant," Lu Mingfei said. A mixed-race person who could lose control at any moment in extreme sadness and anger is simply a ticking time bomb.

The two fell silent, gazing at the still harmonious Christmas Eve scene in the distance.

Henrik and Bernard sat down together and talked in hushed tones. The soldiers continued to share food and wine, with laughter and off-key singing intermittently. But this scene would only last for one night.

This is war; it can turn complete strangers with no prior grudges into irreconcilable enemies, driving them to tear each other apart to death in the mud in the name of nation, ethnicity, and honor.

The peace of this Christmas Eve is like a delicate but fragile soap bubble, which could be burst at any moment.