Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

Therefore, Caesar once asked Lu Mingfei out of curiosity, "Have you ever been to an internet cafe? What kind of place is that?"

Lu Mingfei was immersed in a nostalgic mood at the time, and replied in a deliberately profound tone: "Internet cafes, huh? They're like a martial arts world. Caesar, do you know what a martial arts world is?"

Caesar pondered for a moment, and, drawing on the English translations of Jin Yong's novels he had read, replied earnestly: "I understand. In your martial arts novels, the Jianghu is the stage where knights (heroes) operate. Different knightly orders (sects) fight for their own ideals, treasures, divine weapons, and beautiful princesses (beauties). There are things called secret manuals that can improve a knight's martial arts skills."

Chapter 502 Frilian: Long Time No See, Scorpion (Part 2)

The scorpion moved. Fast as a black lightning bolt. The B+ rank hybrid's speed exploded, covering ten meters in the blink of an eye, its dragon-transformed right fist aimed straight for Frilian's face. That punch was enough to shatter a concrete wall.

But Frilian didn't dodge; she simply raised her left hand, palm facing forward.

The moment fist and palm made contact, Scorpion sensed something was wrong. His power seemed to have been absorbed and dispersed by some invisible force field, as if it had been thrown into cotton. Even more strangely, the toxin secreted by his right hand was neutralized and evaporated by a thin layer of icy blue light the instant it touched Frilian's skin.

[Magic Shield - Deflect]

Frillie took three steps back to dissipate the remaining impact. Her left hand was slightly numb. Even with magical defense, the pure force of the impact still required physical endurance.

“Word magic?” Scorpion frowned. “No, this is not word magic.”

“Continue,” Frillie said.

The scorpion growled and attacked again. This time, it didn't charge in a straight line, but instead used unpredictable footwork to attack from all angles—fists, elbows, knees, and legs—each strike carrying deadly power and venom.

But Frillie was like a small boat in a storm, seemingly about to be torn apart at any moment, yet always managing to avoid the vital points by the slightest margin. Her movements appeared slow, but her predictions were terrifyingly accurate, always reacting at the last second before the attack arrived.

And she doesn't just dodge. Whenever the scorpion's attack misses, and his old strength is exhausted while new strength hasn't been generated, Frilian's fingers will precisely strike his joints, pressure points, or key nodes in the flow of energy.

This is interference—using minimal force to disrupt the opponent's attack rhythm and disturb the body's internal circulation.

Thirty seconds passed, and Scorpion hadn't even touched the hem of Frillie's clothes, yet he felt increasingly frustrated. His attacks were always just a little short, his power always failing at the crucial moment, as if he were fighting his own shadow.

"Is all you can do is dodge?!" he roared, throwing out his right fist again, this time with a whistling sound.

Frillie finally stopped dodging. She went to meet him, slapping away Scorpion's right fist with her left hand, and thrusting her right hand, fingers together like a sword, straight at his chest acupoint.

Scorpion sneered, neither dodging nor avoiding. His body had been strengthened over a long period of time, so ordinary attacks could not hurt him at all.

But the moment Frilian's fingers touched her skin, they burst forth with an icy blue light.

Scorpion felt a tightness in his chest, his heart skipped a beat, and a portion of his strength seemed to be drained away. He staggered backward, staring at Frillie in shock.

"what is this?"

“Stop,” Frillie said calmly. “Temporarily disrupt the circulation near your heart. The effect lasts for three seconds.”

Three seconds is enough to die ten times in a duel between experts.

The scorpion steadied itself, its gaze shifting from anger to seriousness, and then to appreciation.

“Interesting,” he smiled. “Yezi used to only know medicine, not fighting. But in these three years, you’ve learned a lot.”

"You have to learn in order to survive."

“Alright,” Scorpion nodded. “Then, I should get serious.”

He took a deep breath, his muscles bulged, and dark red lines appeared on his skin—a sign that his dragon blood was fully activated. The domain of his Word of Power, Scorpion Venom, unfolded, and a visible pale purple mist emanated from his body, filling the cage.

"Be careful. The next poison is fatal if inhaled."

Frillie frowned; the airborne poison couldn't be completely filtered out by her magical shield. She needed a more proactive approach.

When you close your eyes and open them again, an icy blue halo appears deep within your emerald green eyes.

With her magical vision fully activated, she saw the particle distribution of the poisonous mist, the trajectory of energy flow within the scorpion's body, and the rhythm of its venom gland secretion with each breath.

Frillie's figure suddenly blurred, creating an afterimage through simple optical interference magic.

Scorpion's pupils contracted, and he instinctively dodged to the left. But the direction he dodged was exactly where Frilian had calculated. Frilian's finger touched the back of his right shoulder again, where the main secretory node of the venom gland was located.

"Ugh!" Scorpion groaned, and the poisonous mist on his right arm instantly weakened.

Frilian didn't stop, clicking on seven nodes all over his body, all of which were key locations for poison glands and dragon blood circulation.

Seven clicks, seven disruptions. The scorpion's movements grew increasingly sluggish, the secretion of toxins within its body was forcibly suppressed, and the power of its dragon blood began to become disordered.

With a final blow, Frilian placed her palm on Scorpion's chest. A gentle energy wave spread out, neutralizing the rampaging dragon blood within him and dispelling the surrounding poisonous mist.

The poisonous fog dissipated.

Scorpion knelt on one knee, panting heavily, his entire body soaked in sweat. He looked up at Frillie standing before him, his gaze complex.

“You, you won,” he admitted.

Less than three minutes had passed, but he could no longer continue. His internal circulation was disrupted, and he could not fight again for a short period of time.

The guards outside the cage were dumbfounded.

Did Scorpion Boss lose?

Lost to a woman? And it didn't even seem like he exerted much effort?

Frillie reached out and pulled the scorpion up.

"Your poison is very strong. But if you can learn more precise control, instead of just letting it burst out, it will be even stronger."

Scorpion smiled wryly: "You always said I had poor self-control."

He wiped his sweat and looked at the guard: "Don't tell anyone about what happened today. If anyone asks, just say that the new medical specialist knows some fighting skills and I sparred with her."

The guards nodded repeatedly.

Scorpion led Frillie out of the cage and back to the observation room.

"You've passed the test, and I'll submit the application tomorrow. But before that, you need a code name. Everyone in the organization uses code names."

"Can you get it for me?"

The scorpion thought for a moment.

“Let’s call you ‘Doctor’. It’s simple, direct, and suits your expertise. Yoko’s dream used to be to be an ordinary doctor, saving lives and healing the wounded, not dissecting corpses in a laboratory.”

Frillie nodded: "Okay, call the doctor."

Scorpion poured her a glass of water.

“Welcome back, Doctor,” he said, his voice filled with relief. “Although I know you may not be the same Yoko you used to be, at least you’re back.”

Frillie took the water glass and gently touched his glass.

"Thank you, Scorpion."

Outside the window, the arena lights came back on, and a new match began. But inside the observation room, a new collaboration was just beginning.

Frillie looked at Scorpion, at this man who projected his feelings for Yoko onto himself, and silently calculated in her mind. She had used his feelings, deceived him.

This was necessary. But for some reason, she felt a pang of guilt.

"I'm sorry," Frillian said in her heart, to the real, now-dead Yabe Yoko, "I borrowed your identity, your past, and the people who loved you."

But to stop the Snake Clan's conspiracy and to rescue Lu Mingfei, she had to do it. Even if it meant trampling on the graves of the dead and deceiving the feelings of the living.

Chapter 503 Caesar the Tramp (Part 2)

Lu Mingfei's original intention was to describe how internet cafes are a melting pot of all sorts of people: smokers, cheap drinkers, loud gamers, and all kinds of people. The atmosphere is noisy and a bit rough, with a sense of hidden talents and a bit of the Jianghu (江湖, a term referring to the world of martial arts and chivalry).

But he found it difficult to accurately convey this subtle, common-class feeling to a true gentleman. So he simply nodded and said vaguely, "Pretty much the same, that's what you're describing in an internet cafe."

Caesar then asked, "So what do you all do in internet cafes? Fight?"

Lu Mingfei replied, "There are many, all kinds of people, but the most popular are gamers. I mainly play e-sports. Back in my second year of high school, our class even formed a team and played a few matches at internet cafes."

Caesar nodded slightly, confirming his suspicions. Indeed, an internet cafe was a place where young people gathered, fighting for honor or a goal. It sounded quite sophisticated, even somewhat classical, reminiscent of medieval knights assembling in a council hall to prepare for battle.

Standing before the rather heavy, black and gold glass doors of the Mambo Comics Internet Cafe, Caesar's expectation of a sophisticated and elegant space was confirmed. He climbed the steps, and the glass doors slid silently open to both sides.

The next moment, warm light mixed with a faint fragrance wafted over, and at the same time, two rows of young girls dressed in identical uniforms—black skirts, black stockings, and high heels—bowed in unison and called out in sweet yet well-trained voices, "Welcome!"

Caesar felt a surge of familiar comfort, as if he were at home. As a frequent guest of many top hotels, he was already accustomed to this welcoming hospitality. It seemed this internet cafe was indeed extraordinary; its ambiance certainly matched his initial assessment.

He silently gave this safe haven an 80 out of 100 for its outward appearance. The only downside was that the girls' skirts seemed a bit too short, almost revealing the lace trim of their stockings, which, in his opinion, slightly detracted from the solemnity expected of a battle assembly.

However, he quickly recalled the book Ruth Benedict's *The Chrysanthemum and the Sword* that he had been reading on his flight to Japan. The book mentioned a unique aspect of Japanese culture that is relatively tolerant of, and even exploitative of, erotic elements, partly due to its overly strict social norms, which create a need for outlets for emotional release.

Caesar adopted a culturally relativistic and understanding stance on this. After all, the Italians weren't much better in these respects.

A girl with the sweetest smile quickly stepped forward. Caesar didn't waste any words, directly taking out the silver half-decayed World Tree school badge from his inner pocket and handing it to the girl, while calmly and intently looking into her eyes with his icy blue eyes.

This school badge is a token of identity for members of the Secret Society and also the key to unlocking the Safe Harbor. The administrators of the Safe Harbor are not hybrids themselves and know nothing about the secrets of the dragon race; they only recognize tokens. If the token is correct, they will provide all necessary assistance according to the agreement.

"Wow, this badge is so pretty!" The girl took the badge, her eyes lighting up slightly, and said sweetly in Japanese.

Caesar snapped his fingers lightly with satisfaction. It seemed the other party had understood his identity, and the process went smoothly.

Soon, a short, stout manager in a well-tailored suit trotted out from behind the counter and approached Caesar. He bowed repeatedly while rapidly uttering a string of Japanese that Caesar couldn't understand at all, his attitude extremely attentive.

Caesar's most pressing needs at this moment were food and water. Extreme hunger and dehydration made him feel like he was about to collapse, but he was simply powerless to do so, and Japanese was like a foreign language to him.

"Misi?" The manager, observing the situation, tentatively used a simple word while making a gesture of putting something into his mouth.

Caesar immediately understood the meaning of the strangely pronounced "rice" and nodded happily.

"Die, right?" The manager put his hands together, placed them on one side of his cheek, tilted his head, and made a very cute sleeping posture.

Caesar took a moment to realize that the other person was asking him in broken English if he needed a rest.

“No sleep. Food and case.” Caesar tried to communicate using the simplest and most direct English, accompanied by gestures.

The "case" he was referring to was a storage case typically found in safe harbors. It's a large, specially made suitcase filled with critical supplies such as weapons, ammunition, emergency medicines, cash, and counterfeit documents.

“Computer,” Caesar added, making a typing motion with both hands.

"Yes!" The manager smiled knowingly, as if to say, "I'll take care of everything." He nodded repeatedly and gestured for Caesar to follow him deeper into the internet cafe.

Meanwhile, far across the Pacific Ocean at Kassel College, the central control room was brightly lit, as if it were daytime. All the technical backbone of the executive department were on duty. On the huge curved screen, countless data streams and monitoring images refreshed rapidly. They were using every means possible, searching for the whereabouts of the four members of Caesar's team through every crack in the internet.

However, progress was extremely slow. The Japanese branch's super-AI, Kaguya, had constructed an exceptionally powerful network firewall. She controlled virtually all key gateway nodes connecting Japan to the outside world, forming a virtual digital border.

Once she detects access traffic with characteristics specific to Kassel College or attempting to breach its defenses, she immediately cuts off the connection, or even reverse-tracks and launches an attack. This impenetrable wall of data and algorithms has rendered the college's original AI secretary, Norma, helpless, and her multiple attempts to break through have all failed.

But now, the one sitting in the academy's central control room is no longer the gentle Norma.

A few hours earlier, under the astonished gazes of all the technicians on duty, Professor Schneider, the head of the executive department, and Professor Manstein, the chairman of the discipline committee, simultaneously inserted two black special access cards into a hidden slot deep within the control panel. They exchanged a glance and then forcefully turned the long-unused handle on the console.

In an instant, blinding sparks of electricity leaped and flashed wildly across the control panel like tiny snakes. A pungent, acrid smell, accompanied by black smoke, billowed from the gaps between the rows of dark server racks. This was a sign of instantaneous system overload; a powerful current, far exceeding the design specifications, violently surged into the core chipset, instantly generating temperatures that melted and carbonized the delicate plastic substrate!