Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

Besides the cigars, there were several packets of freshly ground coffee beans, the packaging bearing a roaring lion logo. The aroma was irresistible, a rich and full-bodied flavor with a fruity acidity, a world apart from the instant 3-in-1 coffee Lu Mingfei usually drank. Fingel's letter said, "Try this, I guarantee you'll feel like everything you've been drinking before was dishwater. Remember to use a filter, don't waste it."

There was also a bottle of deep amber-colored rum, with a label featuring a bearded old man wearing a straw hat. The bottle had a rustic design, and the liquid inside gleamed enticingly under the light. "Seven years aged, Havana Club's ace, drink it neat or with cola, but of course, drinking it neat allows you to better experience the Caribbean atmosphere," Fingel said.

In the corner were several tin cans filled with Cuban condiments—Mojo sauce, lime and garlic marinade—giving off a tropical vibe. There was also a slightly comical souvenir hat with a red and blue striped ribbon; a T-shirt with Che Guevara's image printed on it. Finger noted, "Tourist souvenirs, one for everyone, I brought you one too, you're welcome"; and several high-energy salsa CDs.

Finally, there was a postcard hidden under everything else. The background of the postcard featured the colorful buildings and classic old cars of Old Havana, while the foreground showed Fingel grinning from ear to ear. He was wearing a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt and the same straw hat he had just given to Lu Mingfei. His skin was tanned a healthy bronze, and he held a wine glass in one hand while the other arm was casually around a hot, smiling Cuban beauty.

The beautiful woman, dressed in a vibrant red dance dress, moved with graceful movements, her tanned skin shimmering in the Caribbean sun. On the back of the photo, Fingel wrote in marker: "Mission progressing smoothly! Deep behind enemy lines, experiencing the local culture! All is well, don't worry (you certainly are)!"

Lu Mingfei held the postcard, looking at it over and over again, his heart filled with mixed emotions. Look at them! On a mission? This is clearly a paid vacation! Sunshine, beaches, cigars, fine wine, beautiful women… And look at himself, holed up in his dorm, staring at the computer screen and endless homework. His only romantic encounter was with an elf grandma who spent most of her time daydreaming, contemplating the meaning of life, and only vaguely understanding the complexities of human emotions.

Oh, I'm sorry, Frilian, I wasn't saying anything bad about you.

A surge of intense envy, jealousy, and resentment welled up in Lu Mingfei's heart. He put down the postcard and his gaze returned to the box of cigars. Why could that guy Fingel live such a carefree life there—no, why was he struggling so hard? I wanted to experience it too!

Despite his dog's stubborn insistence on trying premium dog food, Lu Mingfei carefully took out a cigar. Following a vague memory of a movie clip, he clumsily used the included cigar cutter to cut open the cap, then picked up a rather ornate-looking lighter—which Finger had casually tossed in—and tried to light it evenly by rotating it to warm the stem. After a while, it finally lit, and he took a deep drag—

"Cough cough cough! Ugh—!"

A pungent, bitter-smelling cloud of smoke rushed into his throat and lungs—it was nothing like the smell he'd just been given! It didn't feel like a pleasant experience; it felt more like accidentally inhaling the smoke from a burning haystack. He coughed violently, tears welling in his eyes.

So this is what they mean by "rich and complex"? He felt like a middle school student trying to smoke for the first time, completely embarrassed.

Lu Mingfei quickly stubbed out the cigar in a Coke can he had found on the spot, opened the window, and let the cold wind disperse the elegant smoke. Looking at the expensive cigar that had only burned a little bit, Lu Mingfei thought sullenly, "It seems that my country bumpkin lungs are not suited to this kind of bourgeois lifestyle."

Fingel is probably smoking one of these things right now in some beachfront bar, puffing away at beautiful women and trying to look profound!

This stark contrast intensified Lu Mingfei's sour feeling. No, he can't be the only one gloating! I need to report my glorious achievements too, so he doesn't look down on me!

With that in mind, Lu Mingfei immediately sprang into action. He rummaged through drawers and cabinets, finding a stack of decent-looking letter paper and a fountain pen he rarely used. He decided against sending an email; that would be too unceremonial. He wanted something handwritten, something that would appear more formal and sophisticated, even though his handwriting was atrocious.

He spread out the letter paper, cleared his throat, and began to write:

"Dear Senior Brother Fingel, although I highly suspect you're enjoying yourself and have absolutely no time to think about me, the one left behind:"

I received the local specialties you sent. I must say, senior, you never forget to enjoy yourself wherever you go; this mission was practically a vacation for you. The cigar, hmm, I tried it; the flavor is unique and very invigorating—it just made me feel refreshed. That rum looks good; I'll find an auspicious day to open it. Also, the local folklore subject on the postcard is very beautiful; good taste! I hope you don't get chased by the local girl's boyfriend or father.

My life here, humph, is far more exciting than yours, and also much more profound!

At this point, Lu Mingfei paused, a smug, mischievous smile spreading across his face. He then began to fully utilize his talent for boasting without thinking and selectively stating facts.

"You have no idea how fast Frilian and I have been getting along lately. Our relationship is incredibly harmonious! She's become very dependent on me now."

He pictured Frillie mostly gazing quietly out the window, or flipping through magic books older than Kassel College, occasionally giving him a blank stare in response to his tedious jokes. But that didn't matter! In the letter, artistic embellishment was necessary!

“We often work together now. Well, mainly when she goes to collect specimens or observe ecology, I'm responsible for, well, accompanying and protecting her! Yes, protecting her! Even though she's ridiculously strong, she still needs someone to help her, right? Aren't I her most trusted assistant?”

He remembered the last time he helped Frilian carry that small-looking collection bag that could be expanded with spatial magic to fit a laboratory; he was exhausted like a dog.

Chapter 312 Fingel's Gift (Part 2)

"We strolled together in the botanical garden under the moonlight, discussing profound topics such as the eternity and transience of life. Although I did most of the talking and she listened, occasionally nodding, we also shared food. She raved about the strawberry cake and cola I recommended—wasn't that a huge step forward?"

In fact, Frilian only took a bite of the cake and said it was too sweet, but Lu Ming selectively forgot about it.

"And let me tell you, based on my keen observation, Frilian has developed feelings for me that go beyond those of ordinary teammates! That subtle concern, that unintentional exchange of glances... tsk tsk, senior brother, you didn't see it. I feel that it's not long before I, Lu Mingfei, completely win Frilian over! When that time comes, hmph, don't be envious of me!"

He became more and more excited as he wrote, the pen scratching on the paper as if he were about to compose a romantic legend that transcended race and age.

He vividly described how he bravely stood in front of Frilian during several adventures, and how Frilian looked at him gratefully; he also fabricated some details of Frilian's special concern for him, such as asking him philosophical questions like "Don't you feel regret about the short lifespan of humans?" which he interpreted as a subtle concern.

She has me in her heart!

"Anyway, senior brother, enjoy your sun and beaches in Cuba. What I'm doing here is a spiritual exchange and conquest! Wait for my good news! Maybe Frilian and I will send you postcards together! Haha!"

Finally, still feeling a bit unsatisfied, he signed his name and even drew what he thought was a very handsome smiley face. He carefully folded the letter, put it in an envelope, and solemnly wrote Fingel's temporary address in Cuba.

After finishing all this, Lu Mingfei let out a long sigh of relief, as if he had just accomplished something remarkable. He looked at the cold moonlight outside the window, then looked down at the expensive box of cigars on the table and the unsightly photo of Fingel. The frustration from being choked by the cigars, as well as the envy of Fingel's carefree life, were somewhat diluted by this boastful letter.

"Hmph, Fingel, just you wait and see!" Lu Mingfei muttered to himself, a smile of self-consolation and anticipation on his face. "When you come back and hear the good news about me and Frilian, let's see if you'll still be smiling!"

Although he knew better than anyone how much of the claim in the letter about quickly taking her down was exaggerated, and that establishing a truly deep connection with Frillie would be no less difficult than taking on a dragon king single-handedly, at least for this moment, in this letter sent to Cuba, he, Lu Mingfei, was the winner about to usher in the highlight of his life.

He placed the letter in the most conspicuous spot on the table, intending to mail it first thing the next morning. Then, he picked up the rum, hesitated for a moment, but still unscrewed the cap and carefully took a small sip from the bottle.

The fiery sensation slid down my throat, followed by the sweet aroma of sugarcane and the rich flavor of oak spreading throughout my mouth.

"Tsk," he clicked his tongue, "This thing seems a bit better than those choking cigars."

An hour later, in Caesar Gattuso's private lounge.

This place seemed like the complete opposite of Lu Mingfei's messy dormitory. Spacious and bright, decorated with Italian-style furniture and expensive artwork, the air was perpetually filled with the subtle fragrance of cedar and leather. Today, that fragrance had been infused with a rich, primal intensity.

Lu Mingfei sat somewhat awkwardly on the excessively soft leather sofa, opposite Caesar, whose blond hair shone like the god Apollo, and Chu Zihang, who sat upright with an expressionless face like a meditating monk. On the coffee table for the three of them sat the eye-catching cigar box that had come all the way from Cuba.

“So,” Caesar picked up a cedar tube, skillfully took out a shiny cigar from it, sniffed it lightly, and a hint of surprise and amusement flashed in his eyes, “Lu Mingfei, I didn’t expect that you would also start getting involved in this?”

"Ah? This, no, no!" Lu Mingfei hurriedly waved his hands, shaking his head like a rattle drum. "Caesar, you've misunderstood! I don't have the taste or spare money to do this! It's Fingel! It's a local specialty that Fingel sent back from Cuba!"

He quickly recounted how Fingel had abused his position for personal gain, how he had enjoyed the sunshine and beautiful women in Havana, and how he had sent back this large box of things.

Upon hearing this, Caesar smiled knowingly and gently twirled the cigar in his hand: "Indeed, it's Fingel's style. However, he certainly knows how to pick things; this is definitely top-quality Havana cigar. It seems his mentor has quite a generous budget."

Caesar's words were laced with mockery; he was well aware of Fingel's behavior.

With a deft "click," Caesar used his exquisitely crafted cigar cutter, which resembled a work of art, to neatly cut open the cap of the cigar and slowly heated the stem with a long match. Soon, a wisp of smoke carrying the aroma of nuts and cocoa rose gently, blending seamlessly with the room's atmosphere without seeming out of place.

"Want to try? I'll teach you," Caesar said, looking at Lu Mingfei.

Lu Mingfei immediately recalled the miserable state of being choked and tearing up that night, and shook his head violently with lingering fear: "No, no, no! Thank you for your kindness! I, I am not worthy of it! I just tried one myself, and it almost killed me. It felt like swallowing a burning tire and a pinch of chili powder."

With a pained expression, he vividly described his embarrassing situation.

Chu Zihang, who had been silent all along, frowned slightly. He shifted his gaze from the cigar to Lu Mingfei's face and calmly said, "Smoking is harmful to your health, Mingfei. The damage that nicotine and tar cause to the respiratory and cardiovascular systems is clear and irreversible."

He paused, looked at Lu Mingfei, and advised very seriously and directly: "It's a good thing you're not used to it. It's best not to try to get used to it."

Lu Mingfei was taken aback by Chu Zihang's direct concern, feeling a warmth mixed with amusement. His senior was still the same senior, even his way of showing concern was so hardcore and scientific. He quickly nodded vigorously, "Senior, you're right! I'll definitely never touch it again! This stuff is really not something I can enjoy." He thought to himself, "Soda is more suitable for me."

Caesar listened to their conversation, elegantly exhaled a full smoke ring, smiled, and offered no comment on Chu Zihang's advice. He simply said to Lu Mingfei, "It seems you're not fortunate enough to accept Fingel's kindness. However, it is indeed a fine product, and it would be a waste to waste it." He glanced at the box of cigars, his meaning clear.

Lu Mingfei immediately understood and said very tactfully, "Caesar, keep it if you like! It's a waste to leave it with me; I might even burn it as a mosquito coil in the end." He couldn't wait to send this hot potato away and do a favor.

Caesar nodded slightly, accepting the tribute. He basked in the Havana sun, Lu Mingfei preserved his lungs and dignity, and Chu Zihang successfully dissuaded a potential smoker.

A win-win-win situation.

Chapter 313 The Caged Bird

The enormous Japanese-style room was eerily quiet, save for the low hum of the central air conditioning system. Erii knelt on a soft cushion, facing a huge screen and a gleaming game console. Dressed in an exquisite kimono, she resembled a doll placed in a magnificent cage.

Outside the window was the bustling street scene of Tokyo, with its heavy traffic and clamor of people, but those sounds were filtered by the thick soundproof glass, and when they reached her ears, only vague and distant echoes remained, like bubbles on the seabed.

Her world was small, limited to this room, this courtyard, and this heavily monitored street. She was the treasure of the Snake Clan, and also their most cautiously guarded monster. With every breath, every glance, countless eyes lurked in the shadows, assessing and watching. She was a caged bird, her feathers beautiful, yet she had never truly touched the freedom of the sky. Her strength was enough to tear the cage apart, but the invisible shackles, the web woven from concern, fear, and responsibility, had already seeped into her very bones.

Only in the virtual world, in the bizarre and fantastical fighting games, could she temporarily forget the cage she was trapped in. The screen was her only window to the outside world, though even that window was carefully selected.

Upon opening Street Fighter VI, the login screen flashes by, displaying a simple and straightforward ID: "Uesugi Erii". Matching for an opponent, the cursor moves, and finally, an ID settles on the screen: sakura.

Sakura, cherry blossoms. Brief, dazzling, like the fleeting spring colors she occasionally glimpsed in the garden. This ID, so familiar. Slender fingers gripped the handle tightly, knuckles slightly white.

The battle begins. The map is a bustling street, neon lights flashing, and the crowd in the background swaying virtually. Sakura chooses Chun-Li, agile and swift. Erii uses Ryu, a master of simple yet powerful moves.

The initial probing was like a dance. Chun-Li leaped lightly, her tentative Hundred-Crack Kick leaving afterimages in the air. Ryu fought steadily, using his Hadouken to control the distance. Erii's eyes were focused, the light from the screen dancing in her deep red eyes. She wasn't proficient in many complex combos; fighting was more like instinct, a micro-management of control. Every block, every dodge, was unbelievably precise, as if she could anticipate her opponent's intentions.

Sakura's player, Lu Mingfei, was currently holed up in his dorm at Kassel College, snacking and idly letting out a soft "Huh?" He'd only been killing time by randomly playing matchmaking, but the opponent seemed rather interesting. Lu Mingfei perked up, his fingers flying across the keyboard. His style was unpredictable and varied, sometimes as aggressive as a storm, sometimes as sneaky as a cunning old man, showcasing Chun-Li's agility to the fullest.

The battle is in full swing.

Sakura's Chun-Li unleashed a dazzling combo, jumping heavy kick followed by a standing punch, canceling her special move, Ki Blast Palm, and then the starting stance for Thousand Crack Kick. Erii's pupils contracted slightly, and almost at the same instant, Ryu executed a precise Hazan-kick forward, narrowly avoiding the most lethal attack range, and delivered a powerful backhand punch to Chun-Li.

Bang! A dull impact came through the controller.

"Impressive," Lu Mingfei muttered, his focus hardening. He no longer held back, unleashing his full gaming prowess. Both players' health bars plummeted.

Erii was completely immersed in the game. Everything outside—the guardian's gaze, the oppressive atmosphere of the room, the constraints on her body—vanished. Her world consisted only of the screen, the controller, and her opponent named Sakura. She could sense Sakura's style, sometimes familiar, sometimes strange, like an elusive breeze.

She wanted to win, to defeat the person bearing the name of cherry blossoms. This desire was stronger than any training or enemy she had faced. This was not just a game; it was her connection to the real world outside, a silent dialogue across the internet.

She began experimenting with techniques she rarely used. An EX Shoryuken (Rising Dragon Punch) successfully intercepted Chun-Li's attempt to jump in. An SA (Special Attack) parried her opponent's charge, then instantly unleashed a counterattack! Her movements became increasingly fluid, imbued with a reckless beauty. Sakura was also ignited, and the exchange of offense and defense between them was dazzlingly fast.

The final round. Both sides were down to their last sliver of health. Their energy bars were full. The atmosphere was so tense it was almost frozen in place.

Erii seized an opportunity. Sakura's Chun-Li made a slight mistake, causing her to be in a recovery animation! Now was the time! Without hesitation, she pressed the command to unleash a powerful punch followed by a finishing move—"Rising Dragon Fist!" Ryu roared, and a massive fist, crackling with lightning, soared into the sky.

However, at this crucial moment that would decide the outcome, Lu Mingfei's lips curled into a sly smile. What seemed like a minor mistake was a meticulously planned trap. Chun-Li canceled her action in the final frame, a lightning-fast backstep narrowly avoiding the critical hit zone of the Shoryuken. Erii's finishing move missed!

Oh no! Erii's heart sank.

Sakura didn't miss the opportunity. Chun-Li approached like a ghost, "Phoenix Wing Fan!" Countless leg shadows, like a dazzling cherry blossom storm, instantly engulfed the immobilized Ryu. The screen froze; Ryu's health bar was completely emptied.

"KO!"

Erii stared blankly at the "defeat" message on the screen, slowly lowering the controller she was holding. She lost. She was one move off. Just a tiny bit off. If only her reaction had been a fraction of a second faster, if only she hadn't so hastily unleashed that rising dragon punch.

A huge sense of loss and grievance welled up in my heart.

Erii picked up a small notebook that was lying to the side and carefully wrote in colored pens: "Sakura, you're very strong. I want to see you again."

With a "click," the sliding door to the Japanese-style room was gently pushed open. The guardian, dressed in a black suit, bowed respectfully: "Ms. Erii, it's time for your walk."

Erii silently rose and carefully put away the small notebook. Surrounded by people, she walked out of this magnificent cage. The setting sun gilded the streets of Tokyo with a golden hue, warm but not scorching. She walked in the middle, surrounded by cautious, vigilant guards. They cleared a path for her, separating her from the crowd, as if she were fragile glass. Passersby cast curious or awe-inspiring glances, then quickly moved away.

The neon lights flashing on both sides of the street, the dazzling array of goods in the shop windows, and ordinary people running, laughing, and talking freely. They are birds flying in the sky, while she is just a caged bird carefully held in the palm of her hand, even her walking route strictly planned. The wind blowing through her hair brings a hint of freedom.

Erii stopped, took out her notebook again, pointed to the word "sakura" on it, and looked at an elderly female guardian beside her.

The female guardian looked troubled and gently advised, "Ms. Erii, the online world is vast, and the other person could be anywhere. We can't find him."

Erii stubbornly shook her head and wrote again: "He's fine. I want to see him."

Another young guard added in a low voice, "And it's dangerous, Miss Erii. You can't just meet strangers."

"Yes, maybe he just happened to use that name."

“Miss Erii, forget about him. We can go back and play other games.”

They spoke one after another, their tone gentle, yet their attitude exceptionally firm. Their concern wove an even tighter net, gently pushing back her curiosity to explore the outside world. They feared she would get lost, and even more so, they feared that her persistence might lead to uncontrollable consequences.

Erii lowered her head, looking at the clumsy cherry blossom pattern she had carefully drawn in her notebook.

Sakura, warm as the sunset, elusive as the evening breeze, like the free world beyond the screen she could never truly reach. She didn't understand why everyone was stopping her; she just wanted to meet the person who brought her joy in the game, and whether that person also had a lonely heart.

She stopped speaking and writing. Erii simply held the notebook to her chest and continued walking step by step along the predetermined route, surrounded by the crowd.