Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

Lu Mingfei longed to be the protagonist of such a scene, even if only once, to shine like a morning star and illuminate Frilian's rainy night.

“Unfortunately, I can’t do that.” Genji gently placed the porcelain cup back on the tatami table, making a soft clinking sound. The ripples that had just arisen from his brilliant idea had now completely subsided into his usual calm, tinged with weariness and responsibility.

"Can't you let go of the power in your hands and the responsibilities of a leader?" Caesar frowned slightly. In his view, hesitation often stemmed from greed.

Genji didn't answer directly. He stood up, walked to the edge of the terrace, and looked at Tokyo shrouded in torrential rain.

“This city was called Edo a long time ago,” he said slowly, his voice piercing through the rain, carrying a quiet reminiscence. “Whenever it rains like this, I often feel that Tokyo has turned back into Edo, noisy and dangerous.”

"Edo at that time was the most fashionable, chaotic, and trendy city in Japan. The Shogun established his government here and held power. Portuguese merchant ships sailed into the port, bringing arquebuses and the red-coated cannons known as the 'national collapse cannons.' Girls carrying exquisite baskets walked through the streets and alleys, selling imported goods in small tin boxes. On the streets, samurai who had not yet been stripped of their right to carry swords strode with their heads held high, arrogant and disdainful of others. If a commoner blocked their way, they would be threatened with drawn swords. At night, the assassins of the Restoration faction were as active as ghosts, and the important officials of the shogunate were all in danger, ready to fight at any moment."

My gaze pierced through the rain, taking in the streets and alleys of hundreds of years ago: "The yakuza of Edo gradually formed against that backdrop. Initially, they were composed of fallen samurai who had lost their lords and were destitute, artisans who relied on their skills but suffered bullying, dockworkers who toiled for meager wages, and prostitutes who were abandoned by society and struggled to survive. In order to live and avoid being trampled on at will, they had no choice but to band together for warmth, making a living with their respective skills, and gradually forming organizations similar to guilds. This was the earliest prototype of the Japanese yakuza."

“I thought the Japanese underworld was run by the Snake-Headed Eight Families from the very beginning,” Lu Mingfei interjected. He had previously visited Genji Heavy Industries and had a strong impression of the underworld being formalized and corporatized.

“No,” Genji shook his head. “The Yakuza, as a social phenomenon, only became widespread after the Edo period. Before that, the Hebi-Hachi family was a high-ranking noble family. You know, in ancient Japan, commoners didn’t have surnames, but our mixed-race family did, which in itself shows our initial status. The Hebi-Hachi family served different monarchs, the Emperor, the Shogun, and various daimyo during the Sengoku period. The historically famous King of Ninjas, Fuma Kotaro, was a member of the Fuma family of the Hebi-Hachi family, and Fuma Kotaro is the name of the head of the family passed down through generations.”

Chapter 389 The Origins of the Underworld

He turned around, leaning against the railing, the rain weaving a hazy backdrop behind him. "The underworld was originally an organization of the weak. Those who could earn a decent living and lead a wealthy life disdained to get involved in the underworld. Originally, the Hebi-Hachi family, as nobles, also looked down on the underworld. Until around the time of the Meiji Restoration, social upheaval caused the families to lose their ancestral lands and estates, making it impossible to sustain their enormous expenses and the livelihoods of their clansmen. Therefore, the heads of the eight families at that time made the difficult decision to get involved in the underworld, to get their hands dirty to make money."

"With their superhuman talent and martial prowess as hybrids, they established their authority in the underworld, protecting small, struggling gangs made up of poor people, collecting tributes from them while providing protection. The identity of the Snake Clan as law enforcers or managers of the underworld was gradually established at that time, and it hasn't actually been that long."

"Is this important?" Caesar didn't quite understand the point of Genjiro's history lesson. "The law of the jungle, survival of the fittest, has always been true. You have achieved your current status through strength."

"As we all know, Japan is one of the few countries that allows yakuza organizations to register legally," Genji said, not directly refuting the claim, and continuing along his own lines of thought.

"One important reason is that some long-established yakuza gangs originated from guilds, organizations formed by the weak to protect themselves. Many years ago they were the weak, and now, most of them still live at the bottom of society and in the shadows. Simply visiting the gleaming Genji Heavy Industries building is not enough to truly understand the Japanese yakuza. The real yakuza are in the corners where the lights of luxury office buildings and high-end apartments don't reach, in narrow alleys, and behind the back doors of cheap izakayas. It is a shadow society composed of the weak."

He walked back to the table but didn't sit down, his gaze sweeping over everyone: "The underworld is not accepted by mainstream society; it's the shadow under the sun. But the underworld is also like weeds, impossible to eradicate. Because as long as society exists, there will always be humble, weak people living in the dark corners. Compared to those successful, glamorous, and kind upper classes, they may seem ugly and inferior. But since there are upper classes, there must be lower classes. Where the lower classes gather, black organizations will breed and spread."

"Are you saying that the Snake Clan are the leaders and protectors of these weaklings?" Caesar raised an eyebrow, his tone clearly questioning. "Isn't it a bit like self-aggrandizement and self-pity for someone in the underworld to position themselves like this?"

"We are not saviors, nor do we have such lofty ideals to lead the weak to build some utopian land free from oppression," Genji's answer was frank, even somewhat cold.

“We are essentially people who do business with the underworld. We collect money from various gangs and use that money to maintain a huge management system, while coordinating the balance within the underworld to prevent excessive conflict from damaging our business. However, it’s not wrong to say that we are leaders of the weak. At least in the shadow society of the underworld, we are their default rule-makers and arbitrators.”

He picked up the wine jug, poured himself a cup, but didn't drink it.

"When many people think of the underworld, they picture the kind of ruthless, wealthy, and beautiful godfathers from movies. 'Enjoying the most alluring women, casually handing out money as tips, and wiping out entire families of anyone who displeases them.'"

Genjiro mimicked an exaggerated tone, then regained his composure, “But what about those living at the very bottom of the underworld? Most of them are weaklings unable to enter mainstream society. Many of the juvenile thugs trembling with knives, begging for protection money at small shops, are from single-parent families, expelled from school, or unable to afford university. Many of the women in neon-lit nightclubs or cheap bars, forcing smiles and flaunting their charms, are single mothers raising children alone, some even victims of domestic violence from their fathers or abuse by their stepfathers. In their eyes, their bodies may no longer be anything precious. They haven't thought about what will happen when they grow old and lose their beauty, when they can no longer attract men; they can only, and will only, drift along. Because the future is too heavy and uncertain for them. This is the society in the shadows—real, cruel, and a mixed bag.”

"Just getting by," Caesar repeated to himself, savoring the bitterness and helplessness within the words.

Yuan Zhisheng turned his gaze to Lu Mingfei, his dark eyes appearing exceptionally deep in the candlelight: "In your Chinese history, there was a man named Cao Cao. At the end of the Han Dynasty, he was the greatest violent ruler, a ruthless hero. If there were no me in the world, I wonder how many people would claim to be kings, how many would claim to be emperors?"

The moment the words left his mouth, a stronger gust of night wind suddenly rushed in from the terrace, causing Yuan Zhisheng's black trench coat to flutter wildly, like a majestic battle flag unfurled in the wind. The young yakuza patriarch stood there with his back straight, exuding an aura of imperial majesty that made everyone hold their breath.

“So, I can’t climb into the puddle where they sell sunscreen yet.” As the wind subsided, Genji returned to the table and sat down, his tone returning to its previous calm. “I can give up my personal power and status, but I cannot let it shake the Snake Clan and plunge this fragile shadow society, made up of countless complacent weaklings, into complete chaos and disorder. At least not now.”

He waved his hand, dispelling the overly heavy atmosphere: "Let's not talk about these unpleasant topics. According to your schedule, there are no fixed plans for tonight. What are your thoughts? Our family has a long-term box at the Kabuki-za Theater where you can enjoy the most authentic Kabuki performances. Alternatively, there's the Tamamo-no-Mae Club, run by the Inuyama family, which is known for having the most beautiful women in Tokyo and offers top-notch service. If you prefer to relax, there's also a top-notch Turkish-style bathhouse. If you'd like some peace of mind, you can go to a nearby temple to burn incense and pray for a safe journey ahead."

These options all sound like high-end entertainment or leisure activities typical of Tokyo.

Caesar slowly finished the last bit of sake in his cup, then set the cup down with a crisp sound.

He looked up, his eyes gleaming with interest in the candlelight: "What a disappointment! What disappointment? I have no interest in kabuki, clubs, bathhouses, temples."

Leaning slightly forward, a challenging smile played on his lips. "Why don't you take us to see the real Japanese yakuza, the kind of places you described where the lights don't reach. For example, didn't the Numa-Kara and the Kodo-gumi have a conflict tonight? That sounds like a local story."

Genji frowned slightly: "Kabukicho is a mixed bag of people, and conflict zones are even more unsafe. In that kind of environment, I cannot fully guarantee your personal safety. As the host, I have a responsibility."

“No problem, just a few thugs, we can handle it ourselves,” Caesar interrupted him, his tone relaxed but unwavering. “We have no interest in so-called upscale places. The best places to experience local life are the little eateries on the streets, places filled with the smells of sweat, cooking fumes, and a tense atmosphere. Besides,”

He glanced at Chu Zihang and Lu Mingfei, and finally his gaze fell on Frilian, who had been listening quietly and whose eyes seemed to have a faint curiosity. "We are all very interested in the local underworld."

Chu Zihang nodded, simply indicating his agreement: "I agree with Caesar, you don't need to worry about our safety."

Lu Mingfei originally didn't have a good impression of the underworld, but after the impact of the history lesson and the theory of the weak, coupled with the influence of alcohol and Caesar's fun-loving spirit, he felt indifferent.

Anyway, with Boss Caesar and the expressionless senior brother around, and the unfathomable Frillie, plus myself being no pushover either, a mere street gang fight is nothing to these skilled hybrids. I might as well go and watch the excitement; consider it a stress-relieving activity before the mission.

Although Frilian did not speak, she put down her wine glass and calmly looked at Genjiro with her emerald green eyes. This gesture itself was a silent statement, and she had also become interested in the shadowy side of Japanese society.

Genjiro was silent for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the four faces, seeing curiosity, challenge, indifference, and a calm desire to observe. He stopped trying to dissuade them and reached out to press a hidden button embedded in the table.

"Sakura," he said to the air.

"Yes, young master," Yabuki Sakura's cool voice immediately came from the hidden speaker.

"Prepare well-fitting uniforms for the three VIPs. Then, go to the liaison department and fetch a dart, preferably from the Shinjuku area or near Kabukicho," Genji instructed, his tone regaining the calm and efficient manner he used when carrying out a mission.

“Young Master,” Sakura’s voice hesitated slightly, “the situation in Shinjuku Ward tonight, especially in the Kabukicho area, is extremely complicated. The conflict between the Numa-Kara and the Kodo-gumi has escalated, with over three hundred people gathered in Kabukicho. They are all highly emotional and could escalate from a standoff into a large-scale brawl, or even an accidental shooting. Several veterans from the Strategic Department have already split into two groups and gone to the Kodo-gumi and Numa-Kara respectively to conduct emergency mediation and try to calm the situation. At this time, I do not recommend that you and your guests approach that area; the risk is too high.”

Upon hearing this, Genjiro showed no worry on his face, but instead smiled.

“Isn’t that perfect?” he said, his gaze sweeping over Caesar, Chu Zihang, Frilian, and Lu Mingfei. “Let the top agents from headquarters see for themselves what the real world of the shadows is like, and see what kind of situations we need to mediate on a daily basis.”

"As for security, would an elite member of the Secret Service, whom Principal Angers calls an ace, be afraid of those thugs on the street with bamboo knives and steel pipes?"

Chapter 390 Protection Fees

The fiery red Ferrari sped along Tokyo's elevated highways through the rain, like a streak of flame in the night. Its high-displacement engine roared continuously, like a beast eager to return to its lair.

In the driver's seat sat Sakura Yabuki, who hadn't been drinking and was focused on her work. This usually gentle, low-key, and unassuming girl transformed dramatically once she gripped the steering wheel, becoming an entirely different person.

She skillfully maneuvered the Italian horse through the dense traffic, seizing every fleeting gap and leaving one car after another behind. Her movements were crisp and clean, displaying the calmness and decisiveness of a race car driver.

"Miss Sakura is amazing!" Caesar exclaimed from the back seat, a smile of admiration on his face. He had always admired girls who drove fast, especially those who were skilled and daring, because it always reminded him of a red figure driving a convertible in a downpour, recklessly circling the dormitory building.

Genji handed over a dart with a colorful feather attached to its tail from the front row. Sakura had taken it from the huge map in the liaison department. Each dart represented a problem from within the underworld that the Snake-Headed Eight Family was waiting to deal with.

The area on the map where the dart landed is Shinjuku Ward, or more precisely, Kabukicho, Tokyo's most famous and also most chaotic red-light district.

“A shop in Shinjuku Ward has asked us for help,” Genji explained the mission represented by the darts. “A gang on the street suddenly demanded that we increase our protection fee by 15 percent, or they would smash up the shop. Now, gang members have been sitting in the shop for three days in a row, scaring away customers who dare not come in.”

"That's it?" Caesar's excitement immediately subsided, his tone filled with obvious disappointment. "It's just a dispute over rate adjustments. I was looking forward to witnessing the grand scene of underworld bosses sitting formally at the shrine, with a full complement of bodyguards in black suits and sunglasses standing outside, the air so heavy it could drip water."

“It’s not as simple as just smashing up a convenience store,” Genji shook his head. “Shinjuku Ward, especially the core area near Kabukicho, is a high-yield farm for protection money. Many nightclubs, bars, and clubs pay on time, usually at a rate of 20% of their profits. Strip clubs and establishments with hostesses pay even more. If the base protection money rate for the entire Shinjuku Ward were raised, the total amount involved could reach tens of billions of yen annually. The main family can’t ignore this. Moreover, those strip clubs and similar places usually employ their own bodyguards. If the gangs push too hard, a conflict could break out, potentially resulting in death or injury. This is no small matter.”

"Got it, so we're going to rush into a place where all we see are short skirts, thighs, and hazy lights?" Caesar's interest was piqued again, and he snapped his fingers.

"The gangster boss sits swaggering on the sofa, his weapon blatantly displayed on the glass coffee table? This sounds way more interesting than negotiating at a shrine! Should we point a gun at his temple, elegantly offer him a cigarette, and say, 'Finish this cigarette and get out. Don't let me see you in Shinjuku again, or I'll chop off a finger every time I see you?'"

“That’s a gangster fantasy from the early stages of chuunibyou (middle school syndrome),” Genjiro said calmly, breaking his imagination. “Usually, we don’t need to use extreme methods. We just need to sit on the sofa, and when they see our clothes, they’ll naturally understand who we are. Then we shake hands and tell them that, according to the rules, if they want to change the protection fee rate for the entire area, they need to propose it at the family’s New Year’s annual meeting, and it can only be decided after discussion and evaluation. Now it’s business hours, so please be understanding and don’t cause trouble in public places and affect everyone’s business.”

"That's weird," Lu Mingfei muttered in the back row. "It sounds like a customer manager at a bank selling wealth management products, talking about risk assessment, compliance procedures, and long-term returns."

“First, we’ll be polite, then we’ll use force. After saying that, if the other party shows any signs of not cooperating,” Yuan Zhisheng turned his head slightly and glanced at Lu Mingfei out of the corner of his eye, “I’ll draw my gun and shoot at the floor in front of his feet. A client manager in a bank doing wealth management probably wouldn’t do that.”

He then changed the subject: "However, they usually don't use guns. Once they confirm your identity, they'll often get up and make an excuse to go to the restroom, and you won't even have time to finish three complete sentences of pleasantries with them."

He paused, his tone becoming more serious. "Please make sure you stay with me tonight and don't leave the group without permission. The Numa-Kara and the Kodo-gumi have clashed in the Kabukicho area. These two gangs control Kabukicho's logistics, and the Kodo-gumi has expanded its influence rapidly in recent years. The long-established Numa-Kara is unwilling to easily relinquish its territory, and both sides have gathered several hundred people to confront each other near Kabukicho. The head of the main family has already intervened to mediate, and the Metropolitan Police Department is also closely monitoring the area. The atmosphere is very tense."

"Don't worry, once you put on this outfit, you're in charge tonight, young master." Caesar, with an unlit cigar dangling from his lips and arms crossed, adopted a "what's done is done" attitude. "We're here to deal with a fee dispute at a strip club, who has the time to bother with a bunch of logistics workers fighting?"

"Heh, thank you for the compliment. Your demeanor makes you more like a young master than I am," Yuan Zhisheng said with a rare hint of sarcasm, "and you even smoke such a manly cigarette."

7:30 p.m., Shinjuku Ward, a toy store in an alley.

Asou glanced at the cheap LCD alarm clock on the shelf, his heart involuntarily racing. Every night, thugs collecting protection money would come.

The rain is particularly heavy tonight, maybe that guy won't come? Zhen secretly prayed in her heart, her hands unconsciously twisting together.

Asou Makoto, eighteen years old, didn't take the college entrance exam after graduating from high school, not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't have the money. After her parents divorced, she lived with her elderly grandmother, relying solely on her grandmother's meager pension. But Makoto never gave up on her dream of going to university. She found a job as a toy store clerk, determined to work hard and save up her tuition little by little.

She had never been in a relationship and secretly dreamed that she might meet a gentle and kind boy in college. But her luck was terrible; the toy store where she worked was targeted by gangsters who wanted to extort protection money.

The Noda-gumi on the street insisted that this shop used to pay them protection money when it sold other things, and now that it had changed into a toy shop, it still had to pay. If it didn't pay, they threatened to vandalize the shop. Before vandalizing the shop, they would send people to sit in the shop every night.

In a cozy little shop selling toys and comics, what customer would dare to come in if a thug with a menacing face was sitting in the center, playing with a metal baseball bat?

These past few weeks it's been Zhen's turn to work the night shift, so every night she's alone, facing a silent, threatening figure. She hides behind the counter, pretending to organize the cash register or wipe the shelves, but her eyes are always on that figure in the center of the store.

She couldn't even call the police because playing with baseball bats in a toy store wasn't illegal, and the police couldn't do anything about it even if they came.

"Ding-dong—"

The small bell hanging above the door made a crisp sound.

The thugs arrived. They wore flashy, eye-catching white trench coats, and a metal baseball bat that seemed far too large for their height hung from their waists. As they walked, the bat head lightly tapped the ground, making a dull "thump-thump" sound.

"Hey, good evening," the thug greeted him like an old friend, his tone devoid of much malice.

Good evening.

It's over. A chill ran through her. With only a high school diploma, her job prospects were already limited, and with the recent economic downturn, she probably wouldn't keep this job. Her dream of going to university seemed increasingly distant with each passing shop door.

Chapter 391 Noda Hisashi

The thug who came in was named Noda Hisashi. He took a chair and sat down in the most conspicuous spot in the center of the shop, taking off his long white overcoat with the Teng Snake family crest embroidered on the back and casually draping it over the back of the chair.

Among the many gangs in Kabukicho, the Noda-gumi wasn't the largest, but it was known for its members' bravery and belligerence. From a young age, Noda Hisashi watched those gang leaders with serpent patterns embroidered on their cuffs strut around the streets, causing crowds to part wherever they went. In Noda Hisashi's eyes, their backs were like unbreakable rocks in a great river.

He thought the most handsome men in the world were those involved in organized crime, so he dropped out of high school and followed his cousin, Kozo, who had become the head of the Noda-gumi. Kozo admired his cousin's ambition and entrusted him with managing seven shops in his territory, whose main job was collecting protection money.

From then on, whenever Noda Hisashi appeared in a long white trench coat, the shop owners would bow deeply and say polite things like, "Oh, you've come! It's an honor to have you here." They would then send the protection money to his apartment every month without him having to ask.

His former classmates all regarded him as a powerful figure and often introduced him to the cutest girl in the class. There were even rumors that his cousin, Kozo, intended to let Noda Hisashi take over the Noda Group because he felt that his cousin was "very decisive at a young age."

But things don't always go smoothly. Of the seven shops under Noda Hisashi's protection, the one that originally sold sex toys suddenly closed down, so his territory shrank to six shops, and the total amount of protection money he collected each month also decreased.

The new tenant was this toy store, and the owner refused to pay protection money! His reason was that toy stores have meager profits and are operating at a loss since opening. Noda Hisashi was determined to use this opportunity to establish his authority and show the new owner what the consequences would be for disrespecting the Noda Group.

There were actually a few thugs in the group who were under his command, so he didn't need to personally stake out the store. However, Noda Hisashi was a manga fan in private, and this toy store had a very complete manga section. Since he had nothing better to do in the evening, he might as well come to the store to read manga and put some pressure on himself.

When he first started out in the underworld, he would go to the bar he owned and ask the owner to find top-tier hostesses to keep him company while he drank. But those top-tier hostesses were always busy with other customers, and they couldn't stay with him for long before being called away by other customers. Noda Hisashi had already accepted protection money, and he was too embarrassed to be a stumbling block to the other party's work, so he could only awkwardly say, "Go ahead, go ahead."

Gradually, he lost interest in such things. Comics were better, especially shonen manga, which depicted the world of men—pure, direct, without so much hypocritical bowing and politeness. A man who grips the hilt of a sword can live uprightly in this world, deciding everything with strength and conviction.

Tonight, Noda Hisashi pulled the first volume of "JoJo's Bizarre Adventure" from the bookshelf and began to reread it. Meanwhile, Shin huddled behind the counter, pretending to be engrossed in doing accounts.

The entire store was eerily quiet, with only the restless clerks and the hoodlums absorbed in their own worlds. The only sounds were the rustling of pages turning and the patter of rain outside the window.

"Screech!" The ear-piercing sound of brakes shattered the tranquility of the rainy night! The sharp and urgent sound made it easy to imagine how fast the car had come and how hard it had braked.

Noda Hisashi hadn't had time to completely detach himself from the world of the manga and make any reaction.

"Bang!" The shop door was suddenly pushed open, and the little bell on the door rang loudly in alarm.

Six black figures, carrying the chill and dampness of the outside air, surged in like ghosts, subtly surrounding Noda Hisashi, who was sitting in the center of the shop. Four men and two women were dressed in well-tailored, heavy black suits, with undried raindrops still rolling down their lapels.