Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

He turned around, his gaze sweeping over Caesar, Lu Mingfei, and Frilian: "But we're not Principal Angers. Why are they going to such lengths to treat us so well?"

"Is it because of the boss?" Lu Mingfei immediately chimed in, shaking off the awkwardness caused by the cushion. "The boss is the heir to the Gattuso family, a member of the board of directors, and has a prestigious status. Is the Japanese branch giving the Gattuso family face and building relationships in advance?"

Caesar shook his head, dismissing the conjecture: "Quite the opposite. The Gattuso family has investments and businesses in many parts of the world, but in Japan, they don't even own a decent property. This shows that the relationship between the Gattuso family and the local mixed-race power in Japan, namely the Snake-Headed Eight Families, is by no means harmonious, and there may even be some degree of estrangement or competition. They have no reason to be so ingratiating because of my surname."

"Then, is it to give face to Senior Brother? This scoundrel should be ranked first on the kill list, and his reputation as a killer should spread far and wide?" Lu Mingfei looked at Chu Zihang again.

Chu Zihang said expressionlessly, "My information is semi-public on the Night Watchers' discussion forum, so it's not surprising that the Japanese branch could find it. But that alone is not enough to make them go to this extent. Besides, you are also an S-rank."

"You're making me feel more and more uncertain," Lu Mingfei said, leaning back and sighing, no longer looking at the covered cushion.

In the past, if his room were filled with the latest anime, a top-of-the-line computer, a game console, and adorable body pillows, he would probably jump for joy. But now, these things seem just so-so. They even seem a bit contrived and superficial.

More than these things, he cared about Frillie's opinion and the hidden purpose behind her excessive attentiveness.

“There’s no need to worry too much,” Caesar said, pouring himself another half-glass of champagne, the golden liquid shimmering in the glass. “When a man raises his glass, he should drink heartily. When he needs to put down his glass and draw his sword, he should not hesitate. Since the Japanese have shown us goodwill, whatever their purpose, we should first raise our glasses in return. Let’s see what they do next, and then we’ll deal with it accordingly. Perhaps this trip to Japan will allow us to conquer not only that mysterious shipwreck in the deep trench, but also this group of arrogant and mysterious Japanese.”

Caesar was actually quite satisfied with the reception he received that evening. With his almost arrogant optimism and remarkably slow reaction time, he felt that from the moment he landed, he had already gained the upper hand over his opponent.

The Japanese branch, known for its arrogance and difficulty in dealing with people, bowed its proud head before him and offered him the highest level of courtesy. This was undoubtedly a testament to Caesar Gattuso's personal charm and strength, and the first step in his conquest of Japan.

If only that old fellow Angers had ever truly impressed the Japanese in the history of the academy, then Caesar was ready to become the second!

Although he came a step later than Angers, what can you do when he's so much younger? He wasn't even born when Angers established his prestige in Japan, so there's no way to claim first place. But second place is fine too; the important thing is the process.

"How about a champagne night?" Caesar raised his glass in high spirits, addressing the group in the living room, "for our challenging yet rewarding conquest of Japan!"

However, the enthusiastic response that was expected did not materialize.

He turned his head and saw that Lu Mingfei, who had just been agonizing over the cushion and the conspiracy, was now fast asleep on the large, soft sofa, hugging a sofa cushion and emitting soft, even breathing. This guy, he's really carefree.

Chu Zihang stood by the window, his back to Caesar, silently watching the endless night rain outside, blending into the damp darkness, showing no reaction to Caesar's suggestion.

Frilian, Caesar's gaze shifted to another figure by the window. The silver-haired girl also walked to the window, standing a distance away from Chu Zihang, gazing at the rainy scene outside.

Caesar's hand, holding the glass, paused in mid-air for several seconds, a mixture of embarrassment and self-mockery in his expression. Without a companion to drink with, and with no moon in the sky to make a three-person reflection, the once-splendid champagne in his glass tasted somewhat lacking.

In the end, he didn't extend an invitation to the two silent figures by the window. With a swift motion, he drained the remaining wine in his glass, then set it down, stood up, and walked towards the luxurious European-style bedroom assigned to him.

Before closing the door, he glanced back at the living room: Lu Mingfei asleep, Chu Zihang and Frillie standing like statues by the window. The patter of rain made the suite seem even more empty and quiet.

He slammed the door shut, cutting off the light and sound from the living room. Leaning against the cold door, Caesar pulled his phone from his bathrobe pocket. The screen lit up, and he expertly pulled up his contacts, found the familiar number, and typed a short text: "Arrived in Tokyo, all is well. Missing you."

He pressed the send button, watching the small sending icon spin and then disappear. The message status quickly changed to delivered, but it was like a stone sinking into the sea—no response whatsoever. He waited a long time, the screen dimming and then brightening again, but he never received that familiar, even brief, reply.

For some time now, Nono had been in this elusive and unreachable state. Only by checking her occasional login records through the Norma system's backend could Caesar barely confirm that she was alright and still somewhere in this world.

This sense of uncertainty, like a tiny thorn, pierced the edge of his proud and confident heart. It was not easily noticed in normal times, but it would cause a dull ache in quiet moments of solitude.

He tossed his phone onto the large bed covered with a velvet sheet and walked onto the room's balcony. A cold wind mixed with drizzle hit him, and the streetlights of Tokyo below flowed like rivers on the wet ground. In the distance, the blurry red outline of Tokyo Tower was faintly visible.

In the living room, Lu Mingfei turned over and uttered a muffled murmur in his sleep, it was unclear what he was dreaming about.

Chu Zihang stood by the window, like a sword sheathed, silently guarding this temporary refuge.

After watching the rain quietly for a while, Frillie turned and walked towards the bedroom assigned to her and Lu Mingfei. Before entering, she glanced back at Lu Mingfei, who was fast asleep on the sofa, and then gently closed the door.

Chapter 355 The Shrine in the Rainy Night

A shrine in the mountains outside Tokyo.

The torrential rain, like a celestial river pouring down, lashed furiously against the wooden roof of the ancient shrine, creating a continuous roar. Rainwater gathered at the upturned eaves, tracing clear, mournful parabolas before cascading into the bluestone courtyard. The century-old cherry trees in the garden, their bloom long past, were now being violently washed away by the rain, their remaining, withered petals and leaves falling one by one, mingling with the raindrops like a premature, poignant cherry blossom snowfall.

The heavy atmosphere was as thick as the rain. Men dressed in solemn black, with white-sheathed short swords tucked into their waistbands, moved in perfect unison, like an army being inspected, silently passing the torii gate that had been charred by fire and bore the black marks of its former glory.

They walked across the stone steps strewn with slippery cherry blossoms and fallen leaves, stopped before the weathered vermilion stone wall in front of the main hall, bowed deeply three times in unison, and then quickly separated, standing solemnly on both sides of the road.

Following them into the shrine were seven figures carrying plain paper umbrellas. They were all dressed in extremely formal kimonos—the men in black haori with brocade patterns, and the women in dignified black tomesode, with white socks and wooden clogs. Their eyes were fixed straight ahead, their steps steady as if measured, each step moving in rhythm with the rain and the passage of time.

As they passed the charred torii gate, the men in black lining both sides of the path bowed deeply once more, their heads bowed, and not a sound was uttered. The scene was as solemn as if a funeral of the highest order was about to take place.

The seven key figures also stopped before the vermilion stone wall and bowed deeply. Leading them was an elderly man with meticulously combed silver hair, a gaunt face, and deep-set eyes. He lit three slender incense sticks and respectfully placed them in the incense burner before the stone wall.

Watching the wisps of smoke struggle to rise and dissipate in the torrential rain, the old man sighed softly, his voice so low it was almost drowned out by the sound of the rain: "Uesugi Kotsushi, what a strange man."

After the seven entered the main hall, the large group surged into the shrine like a black tide. Hundreds of men in sharp black suits stood shoulder to shoulder, crowded yet orderly, with no one cutting in or dragging their feet.

Everyone bowed deeply before the stone wall, then placed their black umbrellas on the open ground in front of the main hall. Soon, countless black umbrellas covered the ground, like a silent flock of crows that had suddenly descended.

At this moment, all roads in front of and behind the shrine were blocked off, and nearly a hundred black cars stood silently in the rain. Armed guards and samurai carrying traditional long swords stood silently in every shadow and corner, their eyes scanning the surroundings warily. No outsider dared to approach this vermilion building even half a step further.

The shrine itself is classical and elegant, and has obviously been carefully maintained and renovated, showing no signs of dilapidation.

There were two exceptions: the charred torii gate and the vermilion stone wall. They were deliberately preserved in their original state, without even being cleaned. Large patches of dark red, almost black, dried bloodstains seeped deep into every crevice of the stone, a shocking sight that silently told of the past tragedy and sacrifice.

The interior of the main hall is covered with clean tatami mats and does not house the usual shrines or Buddha statues. The inner walls are surrounded by a ring of meticulously painted, giant ukiyo-e murals, their brushstrokes flowing freely, depicting a fierce battle between demons and gods. Clouds billow, flames dance, and the eyes of the demons gleam in the flickering candlelight, a result of the use of phosphorescent pigments.

At this moment, hundreds of men and women dressed in black knelt in their respective positions according to a strict hierarchical order, completely silent. No one knelt in the wrong place, and no one whispered to each other.

The secretary in black walked briskly and presented a thick roster to the silver-haired elder, the patriarch Tachibana Masamune.

"Master, all the important members of the family have arrived. The Strategic Department, the Liaison Department, the Five Clans, the Kassel College Japan Branch, which includes the Kanto Branch and the Kansai Branch, the Ganryu Research Institute, and the Maruyama Construction Company. There are 440 people in total. Please take a look."

Tachibana Masamune took the list, but his gaze first swept across the hall and landed on an empty seat in the front row.

"Where is Chisei? How can this meeting proceed without him?" He frowned slightly, his voice not loud, yet it made the atmosphere in the entire hall even more tense. "Yaksha, Crow, do you know where Chisei is?"

The crow, kneeling in the back row, immediately stepped forward, his forehead touching the ground: "Young Master, the Young Master has already arrived and has been carefully patrolling around the shrine to ensure the safety of all the clan heads. Perhaps, perhaps he hasn't yet received news that everyone has arrived. Your subordinate and Yaksha will go and inform the Young Master immediately!"

Behind the main hall is the worship hall.

There were no lights on here, and it was all dim. Only the distant, hazy glow of the city outside the window shone through the rain-washed glass, casting a lonely silhouette.

Genji sat by the low table by the window, still wearing his black executive bureau trench coat, the collar slightly open. In his hand, he held a crystal glass containing an amber liquid—an opened bottle of 18-year-old Yamazaki single malt whisky. He didn't look at the drink; he simply stared blankly out the window.

From this height, Tokyo shrouded in rain resembles a vast, blurry mirage, its lights shimmering in the damp air like a hazy mist—prosperous, yet so unreal.

"Young Master!" Crow sneaked in, then quickly closed the door behind him. He leaned close to Yuan Zhisheng's ear and whispered, "All the family heads and patriarchs are here. Everyone is waiting for you! If you don't go soon, those old guys will start gossiping behind your back again!"

"Okay, I understand." Genji frowned, his voice low and slightly hoarse from drinking. "After I finish this drink, you're in the meeting. Who's coming to oversee Caesar's group?"

"Oh dear young master!" Crow scratched his head anxiously, but dared not raise his voice. "You and Yaksha have both come to the meeting, so who else is keeping an eye on those young masters and ladies from headquarters at the Peninsula Hotel?"

Genjiro raised his eyes, glanced at the crow, and said with a slightly unfocused look, "Oh, so Sakura is there. You and Yasha are unreliable; it's safer to have Sakura keeping an eye on things."

Seeing that his young master was quite drunk, the crow quickly pulled a small bottle of mouthwash from his pocket: "Yes, yes, young master is wise! Then please rinse your mouth quickly, so that I don't smell the alcohol. I'll tell them you were patrolling the area, but please don't let it slip!"

At this moment, Yaksha stood like a gatekeeper outside the temple, straining his ears to guard against any possible approach, lest someone discover that the future underworld emperor was drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

Yaksha and Crow knew Genjiro all too well; he had always been averse to such large family gatherings and would always find ways to avoid them. If today's meeting hadn't concerned the future of the Snake Clan and wasn't so important that he couldn't be absent, he would most likely have used the excuse of needing to closely monitor dangerous individuals within headquarters to slip away.

Chapter 356 The Drunken Genji

But such words must never be uttered aloud. As the designated young master and future patriarch of the Snake Clan, his aversion to gatherings of loyal clan members would chill the hearts of countless people if word got out.

Rumors about the young master having spent too long in the United States, becoming Westernized, and being out of step with Japanese traditions had been circulating within the family for some time. Fortunately, the younger generation, who had also returned from studying at Kassel College and were deeply influenced by the West, fully supported Genji, preventing the situation from spiraling out of control.

“Ah, I remember now,” Genji put down his glass and rubbed his temples. “I’m not worried about whether you can be trusted with surveillance. I’m afraid that if I leave you at the Peninsula Hotel, you might impulsively strip those headquarters specialists naked and hang them upside down on the Tokyo Tower for exhibition, right?”

The crow wore a wronged yet lewd expression: "Young Master! Your prejudice against me and Yaksha is too deep! Although we do have some special little hobbies, we have absolutely no interest in men! It's Sakura, on the other hand..."

He lowered his voice and winked, "Sakura is so beautiful and capable, what if she's a hidden pervert? Maybe she'd enjoy watching her?"

“If Sakura likes looking at men,” Genjiro downed the remaining wine in his glass, the spicy liquid burning his throat briefly, “then it’s not perverted, it’s normal womanhood. What you and Yasha are like, that’s real perverted.”

He stood up, his body swaying slightly.

"Oh dear! You've really drunk too much!" Crow quickly stepped forward to support him, chattering incessantly, "Young Master, please calm down! I'll go to the palace right away and tell them you'll be there soon after changing your clothes! Don't pour this cup out! Rinse your mouth! Remember to use mouthwash!"

He muttered to himself as he stumbled out, gently closing the door behind him. Before leaving, he couldn't resist peeking through the crack in the door one last time.

In the dim light, Genji didn't immediately rinse his mouth or straighten his clothes. He simply sat back down by the window, his back straight, yet exuding a deep, almost overflowing weariness.

It wasn't directed at any particular person or event, but rather a sense of utter weariness and despair towards the entire world, towards this predetermined fate, and towards the seemingly glorious yet heavy shackles of Amaterasu.

The crow outside the door exchanged a glance with the yaksha guarding the door, both seeing worry in each other's eyes. They sighed softly.

Sometimes, two like-minded buddies, drinking and chatting privately, would feel lost about the future. They were once elite members of the organization who had risen through the ranks with their bravery and loyalty, their hands stained with blood and their bodies scarred, before earning the honor of directly pledging allegiance to their young master.

They were relieved that Genjiro was not only of noble lineage and prestigious status, but also a sharp blade that would draw blood once drawn. His abilities, shrewdness, and understated authority were all captivating. In just three years, he had taken charge of the Execution Bureau, a department that was originally just a family's violent machine, which had become the most core and powerful power center of the Japanese branch. The entire organization's operation revolved around the Execution Bureau.

He is undoubtedly the next head of the Japanese branch. Within the family, he is the heir personally designated by Tachibana Masamune, a future yakuza emperor, a foregone conclusion.

According to tradition, as the young master's right-hand men and confidants, Crow and Yaksha will also ascend to the pinnacle of power, becoming the core figures of the new generation of ruling group, enjoying boundless glory.

The problem is that their young master, Genjiro, has no desire for any of this.

He charged ahead, handling the most dangerous tasks, driven less by ambition and more by a deep-seated sense of responsibility and a self-punishing drive. Through sheer responsibility, he had reached the pinnacle, earning the respect of all.

But can someone without a desire for power really control the intricate and intertwined power of the Snake Clan?

The family receives over 30 billion yen annually in bribes from the Japanese underworld, and its legal and illegal businesses generate hundreds of billions of yen in revenue. The man in charge must be a godlike figure, feared by enemies and revered by subordinates!

What are Yuan Zhisheng's private life ideals?

Go to Montalivate Beach in the south of France to sell sunscreen.

At first, Crow and Yaksha thought their young master was joking, a kind of sophisticated dark humor. It wasn't until they repeatedly saw postcards of Montalivi Beach on Genji's desk that they realized he actually seriously researched the UV blocking rate and cost-effectiveness of different brands of sunscreen, and even bought samples online to try them out.

They were horrified to realize that their young master was serious! He truly dreamed of escaping Tokyo, this steel jungle, and going to a place with sunshine, beaches, and bikini-clad beauties, to be a leisurely sunscreen vendor!

For him, Tokyo was not a throne, but a cage.

What disillusioned and devastated Crow even more was that, according to the family's old tradition, once one swore allegiance to the young master, it was a lifelong alliance, and there was absolutely no reason to back out halfway.

This means that even if one day Genji really quits and goes to France to sell sunscreen, he and Yasha will still have to wear black suits and sunglasses, with killer looks that keep strangers at bay, standing behind their young master, who is wearing a floral shirt and has a business smile on his face as he applies sunscreen to a bikini-clad beauty, as background figures.

The scene was so beautiful that every time the crow imagined it, he felt that life was bleak and full of absurd black humor.

At the same time, in a hotel suite.

In the luxurious and spacious living room, only a few dim wall lamps remained on. The champagne bottle was empty, and the fruit in the fruit bowl was barely touched. The sound of rain outside the window became background white noise, making the room even quieter.

Lu Mingfei ultimately didn't return to his anime-themed bedroom. The sofa was just too comfortable; he hugged a cushion, curled up on it, and had fallen into a deep sleep, emitting soft, even breathing. He disdainfully kicked the enormous Asahina body pillow under the sofa.

Chu Zihang left the window, probably to go back to his minimalist Japanese-style bedroom to rest.

Frillie didn't immediately return to the natural-themed room assigned to her. She sat quietly on another single sofa, holding a hardcover book about Japanese folklore that she had taken from the hotel bookshelf, and flipped through it under the soft light.

Her long, silver hair cascaded down like a waterfall. Occasionally, she would raise her head, her emerald eyes gazing at Lu Mingfei, who was fast asleep on the sofa.

The boy wasn't a good sleeper; his brows were slightly furrowed, his mouth was open, and he would occasionally mumble a few incoherent words in his sleep. Gone was his daytime self, who was always joking around and trying to liven things up. At this moment, he looked somewhat childish and lonely.

Frillie read for a while, then closed the book. She stood up, walked to Lu Mingfei's side, and looked down at him.