Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

"Then what are these advertisements?"

"This is the official homepage of 'Mambo.' The organization's main business is providing internet access with private cubicles, along with value-added services such as 'female students accompanying you online' and 'special shoe shining.' According to current Japanese laws and industry classifications, it can be defined as a 'soft sex service internet cafe,' and its operating model operates on the fringes of the law. Such places usually have close ties with local yakuza organizations to seek protection and resolve disputes."

Upon hearing this, Schneider felt a chill run from his feet to the top of his head, and he shivered violently. What did this mean? It meant that if Caesar and Chu Zihang also survived and made their way to the safe harbor, they might be unwittingly stepping into a brothel controlled by gangsters and filled with traps, while they naively believed it to be a safe haven set up by the academy!

"Quick! Eva! I need real-time internal monitoring of that 'Mambo' internet cafe! Network control! Anything! Now! Immediately!" Schneider almost roared, his breathing becoming heavy and rapid beneath his metal mask.

Inside the cubicle, Caesar looked at the kneeling girl in the cheongsam before him, then glanced at the ambiguous icons and wallpapers flashing on the screen, and finally realized what was going on.

No wonder this internet cafe had an off vibe, the air itself seemed to carry a sticky, sweet scent. No wonder the ladies in those ukiyo-e prints were all disheveled, their eyes alluring.

The original "Sakura Manga Internet Cafe" has long since disappeared, replaced by a complete brothel disguised as an internet cafe! And judging by its appearance, it's not an ordinary brothel; it's likely the kind of super-hardcore place that offers deep services! No wonder the manager asked him if he needed to die immediately.

Has Japan's internet cafe industry become so competitive that it's starting to offer "sleep-with-me" services? This is practically forcing traditional brothels to close down!

Caesar's mind was buzzing, a complete mess.

And now, a vibrant and alluring woman was kneeling before him, the situation incredibly ambiguous, and to make matters worse, they couldn't communicate verbally. Caesar had absolutely no idea what she was planning to do next. At that moment, he desperately wished he had a cell phone nearby—no, preferably one with a camera, so he could prop it up in a corner and record the whole thing, just in case.

After all, he was preparing for his wedding with Nuonuo, and maintaining his innocence during this time was crucial. He had to find a way to get rid of this girl, whose job he was responsible for, in a dignified and effective manner.

The principle of nobility is that one must never show any disgust or humiliation towards any woman unless she has committed an unforgivable crime such as treason, blasphemy, or infanticide. Frankly, most women could never achieve this level of respect even after a lifetime of hard work.

Chapter 507 Asou Makoto, the Shoe Shineman (Part 1)

But how do you refuse a scantily clad beauty who comes to you without hurting her already fragile self-esteem? Should you put your hands together and say, "Amitabha, female benefactor, although this humble monk has the virtue of loving life, unfortunately, this humble monk has long since converted to Buddhism, eating vegetarian food and chanting Buddhist scriptures, and abstaining from women"?

This sounds like something Lu Mingfei might do in extreme dire straits, but Caesar Gattuso's dictionary doesn't yet include such a solution.

He racked his brains, trying to draw upon his extensive social experience as a rich, handsome, and successful man, only to find that the techniques he used for flirting at parties, dance halls, and beaches were completely out of place, even foolish and laughable, in this particular situation.

The Japanese-style cubicle was really too small. The girl's faint perfume lingered in the air, and the two of them were almost touching knee to knee, their breathing clearly audible.

In the suffocating silence and awkwardness, the kneeling girl suddenly raised her head, her bangs brushing aside to reveal a delicate face, but one tinged with nervousness and trepidation. She looked at Caesar and asked softly in slightly broken but understandable English, "Are you Mr. Gattuso?"

Caesar was taken aback, abruptly raising his eyes to scrutinize the other person. Gone was the initial submissive demeanor; the face seemed vaguely familiar?

"Ms. Aso Makoto?" he called out a name uncertainly.

It was Asou Makoto, the part-time girl I met at that anime and toy store a few days ago! No wonder Caesar had a strange sense of déjà vu when she came in, even though she kept her head down and didn't make eye contact.

“Yes! I’m Aso Makoto! Mr. Caesar, what brings you here?” Aso Makoto’s eyes widened slightly, revealing genuine surprise and a hint of barely perceptible delight. She had just graduated from high school, and her English was quite good for an average young Japanese person, enough for basic communication.

Caesar smiled bitterly to himself: How did I get here? I rode a beat-up motorcycle, braving the cold wind, covered in dust and dirt, like a refugee...

Looking back on that rainy night, it all felt like a brief and bizarre dream. A red Ferrari tore through the rain, speeding towards us. Men in black trench coats leaped nimbly from the car doors, their coats billowing in the damp wind, occasionally revealing the dazzling silk linings beneath.

But she was clearly terrified at the time. She probably thought her call for help had opened Pandora's box, unleashing a horde of demons from the underworld. She had heard of the horrors of the yakuza, how those who offended them often disappeared without a trace. She must have thought that Noda Hisashi's hand was lost.

But it turned out that these seemingly menacing guys actually had a good sense of humor and principles. After the matter was resolved peacefully in an unexpected way, the group of them actually sat in the shop and quietly flipped through comics. The shop was very quiet, with only the pattering rain outside the window tapping on the old fiberglass roof.

Zhen was terrified of rain since she was little. Thunder and lightning flashed, and raindrops pounded heavily on the roof, making a chilling pattering sound. Cold wind seeped in through the cracks in the window. She would always curl up in bed, shivering.

But that night, listening to the faint sounds of those menacing men turning the pages of their books inside, she found the sound of the rain outside the window strangely comforting. It was especially reassuring. It was as if with those men sitting there, no evil spirits dared approach this little shop.

Of all those people, Caesar left the deepest impression on Zhen. She simply used the most ordinary instant coffee powder in the shop to make him a perfectly ordinary cup of coffee. But when she handed him the coffee, the moment Caesar took the cup, the smile that bloomed on his face was as bright as the sunlight suddenly breaking through the clouds on a rainy day.

He took a careful sip, then immediately displayed an exaggerated expression that mixed with amazement, admiration, and the feeling that "drinking this coffee is worth it for my life." In his extremely broken Japanese, he said loudly and sincerely, "Thank you! Good coffee!"

In truth, this was merely a nobleman's deeply ingrained politeness. As long as the person serving him food was a reasonably attractive young woman, Caesar would generously reciprocate with the warmest smile and the most extravagant praise.

During his expedition to the Amazon rainforest, a beautiful local Indigenous girl served him newly brewed, cloudy cassava beer. Caesar knew from his guide that the beer was brewed with water drawn directly from the Amazon River, without even the most basic filtration, and its hygiene was questionable.

But under the girl's expectant gaze, he ignored the guide's terrified pleas, took the earthenware bowl, loudly praised, "Brothers, bottoms up!", and then tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp. The consequence was that he suffered from diarrhea for three whole days in his tent in the rainforest.

However, for Caesar, diarrhea was a minor matter; refusing the beautiful young woman and the nobleman she represented was the real disgrace.

But this time, when Aso was overjoyed at the reunion and instinctively wanted to take two steps forward, Caesar warily and subtly but clearly stepped back, avoiding any possible physical contact.

Although it was only for a brief moment, she truly understood the wariness and distance that flashed in Caesar's eyes. She immediately remembered where she was, and the vast difference in their status and circumstances. The light that had just appeared in her eyes quickly dimmed. After a few seconds of silence, she slowly, bit by bit, moved back to her original position, lowering her head again, even lower than before.

Both of them sat frozen in place, hands on their knees, heads bowed, as if there were some priceless treasure on the tatami mat worth studying. Time ticked by, each second feeling as heavy as lead. The computer, having been inactive for so long, automatically entered screensaver mode.

Suddenly, busty girls and long-legged mature women of various styles began to flash on the screen in turn, blowing kisses, twisting waists, and sticking out their buttocks... The dynamic images, combined with the silent seduction, made the awkward atmosphere in the small cubicle so intense that it was almost dripping with water.

Caesar had never experienced such an awkward and unsettling situation. Zhen, on the other hand, must have felt even more embarrassed; her long bangs formed a veil, isolating her from the outside world. They had to say something to break the agonizing silence, but racking their brains, they found themselves speechless.

If Caesar were a vehemently indignant young man, perhaps he would be weeping, pounding the tatami mat in anger, denouncing this wicked society for forcing such a pure young girl to such a sordid place to make a living! Then he would lean forward, gently pat the girl's trembling shoulders, and say in a tone full of pity, "My lord, Lin Daiyu is so lovely, let Brother Baoyu show her some tenderness~"

If he were the legendary lecher, it would be simple: just pounce on him, let out a grotesque "hehehehe" laugh, and then… (3,780 words omitted here). If his father, Pompeii Gattuso, were here, well, no need to think about it; that stallion prince himself was a living textbook of the legendary lecher!

Caesar's mind was in turmoil, like a ball of yarn torn by a cat. He wanted to say to Zhen, "I respect your personal choice. There is no such thing as a noble or lowly profession. You are earning your living through your labor here. No one has the right to criticize you. I have absolutely no intention of looking down on you."

But the words stuck in his throat, feeling incredibly awkward. Damn it! What does this have to do with him? He's just here to use the internet to contact headquarters! Miss Zhen, you're not a Wi-Fi hotspot!

In the midst of this almost frozen silence, Zhen suddenly spoke timidly, her voice barely audible, "Do you need your shoes shined?"

"Shoe shine?" Caesar was taken aback, not quite understanding.

"So you're here to shine shoes?" Caesar couldn't help but think to himself: You dressed like Cleopatra, the Egyptian queen who was going to seduce the Roman consul Antony, and then you tell me your real purpose is to shine shoes?

Zhen silently opened the exquisite wooden box beside her. Inside, various shoe polishes, shoe waxes, brushes of different sizes, soft cleaning cloths, and other professional tools were neatly arranged.

“Yes,” she said very softly, “my job in this shop is to shine shoes.”

A thousand mythical beasts raced through Caesar's mind. Was it that his own thoughts were too complicated, or that the shop's services were just too bizarre?

Imagine Antony, completely captivated by Cleopatra's alluring face and fiery figure, when the queen suddenly pulls a jar of shoe polish and a brush from under her skirt, and says in the most seductive tone, "Lord Antony, would you like to try our Egyptian royal secret shoe-shining service? A regular shine costs three silver coins, a fine shine six silver coins, and if you pay one gold coin, I'll even include a complimentary exclusive foot massage afterward!"

But when Caesar glanced again at the tight-fitting, almost transparent cheongsam she was wearing, he immediately understood the trick. The real selling point of a shoeshine girl dressed like this was clearly not how shiny she could shine the shoes, but rather the girl's young body and the subtle sense of control and ambiguous fantasies brought about by this form of service.

No wonder the back of the cheongsam is designed to be so transparent. When the girl squats down and focuses on wiping the shoes of the guests, the guests can "legally" appreciate the curves of their almost naked backs from a superior perspective and gain a psychological satisfaction of stepping on young girls.

This is still a sex shop, but the methods are more covert, following the route of "erotic innuendo" and "fantasy," rather than being so direct and explicit.

“Then, please take off your shoes, let me wipe them for you,” Zhen’s voice pulled Caesar back from his chaotic thoughts. “You don’t look well. Have you encountered some trouble? Is there anything I can do to help you?” She lowered her head, but her words revealed genuine concern.

Having said all that, to refuse outright would seem too heartless, and might even hurt the other party. Caesar paused for a moment, then bent down and took off his tattered leather shoes, covered in mud and whose original color was no longer recognizable, and placed them on the tatami mat.

“Nothing special,” he tried to keep his voice calm. “I just need to go online here.”

Chapter 508 Asou Makoto, the Shoe Shineman (Part 2)

The indicator light on the VIP elevator flashed silently before finally stopping on the L floor. The metal doors slid open, and Genji stepped out of the elevator car with a swift stride. The lobby was brightly lit, yet empty and deserted, except for his personal assistant, Sakura, who was already waiting there, holding his usual long black trench coat and the long sword Spider Cutter wrapped in a black cloth cover.

"Has the news been confirmed? Is it reliable?" Yuan Zhisheng asked, quickly but steadily, as he deftly put on his trench coat and strode towards the automatic revolving door. The hem of his trench coat drew a sharp arc behind him.

“Three minutes ago, Princess Kaguya’s monitoring system issued the highest level network intrusion alert,” Sakura said, following half a step closely beside him, speaking just as quickly but clearly.

"All the concentrated attack traffic from the main campus of Kassel College is directed to a coordinate in Chizuru Town, Saitama Prefecture, at an internet cafe called Mambo. Kaguya analyzed that it is very likely a safe haven established by the college in its early years but which has been overlooked by us. If anyone from Caesar's team survives, that is their top priority."

Sakura paused briefly, then pulled up another document from her tablet and handed Genji to a freshly printed fax, still warm from the machine: "In addition, we just received supplementary intelligence from Nagasaki. A returning deep-sea fishing vessel reported to the coast guard that it had rescued a distressed 'blonde foreign male sailor,' but the man jumped overboard and escaped before the vessel docked. Our people urgently interviewed the captain, and based on his verbal description, the artist quickly produced this composite sketch."

Sakura pointed to the fax, "Although the details are blurry, based on a cross-match of height, build, and hair color, the probability of it being Caesar Gattuso is over 80%. If Caesar is still alive, Chu Zihang and Lu Mingfei's chances of survival will also increase significantly."

"Oh?" Genjiro took the fax, his gaze sweeping over the hastily drawn and somewhat disproportionate portrait. Despite the urgency of the situation, upon first seeing it, he couldn't help but let out a soft snort, a mixture of helplessness and wry smile. "With this, you really think you can recognize Caesar Gattuso? The clearest, most recognizable part of this picture seems to be his pectoral muscles?"

The human figure in the portrait has a simple outline and blurred facial features, but the two well-developed and full pectoral muscles are emphasized by heavy shadows on the chest, almost leaping out of the paper.

Sakura's expression also showed a subtle strangeness, but she quickly regained her composure: "The analysis team took into account the keywords provided by the captain, such as 'tall, muscular, and short blond hair,' and believed that the match was very high. As for the pectoral muscles, perhaps they left a particularly deep impression on the captain."

Genji crumpled the fax paper into a ball and tossed it into a passing trash can. "What's the exact location and traffic situation in Chizuru-cho?"

"It's located north of Tokyo, administratively belonging to Saitama Prefecture, but actually bordering Shinjuku Ward in Tokyo. It's a small town on the outskirts of the city, a mix of residential areas and small factories," Sakura quickly reported, pulling up an electronic map. "The straight-line distance isn't far, but if traffic is smooth, it takes about 20 minutes by car."

“The problem is, it’s rush hour now,” Yuan Zhisheng frowned, glancing at the street outside the floor-to-ceiling window, where a continuous stream of car lights illuminated the street like a glowing river. “How can traffic possibly be smooth?”

He was indeed relieved to learn that Caesar might have survived. But ever since witnessing firsthand the chilling secrets of the underwater burial site, he knew better than anyone that these three men, at least until everything had settled, absolutely could not leave Japan. They knew far too much.

“That town is quite remote, and our manpower can’t reach it for the time being. There’s only one small biker gang in the town called Red Guard,” Sakura continued to report. “We’ve tried to contact Red Guard, hoping they can get to that internet cafe first, take control of the scene, and at least get a sense of their movements.”

"Stop this pointless attempt immediately!" Genji said sternly. "If Caesar and the others haven't reached the safe harbor yet, those loudmouths from the Red Guard will only alert them and scare away any targets that might still be on their way. If they're already there..."

He sneered, took the Spider Cutter from Sakura's hand, and gently pushed open the hilt with his thumb, revealing a glint of cold light. "You think the ace of the undergraduate department of Kassel College can be dealt with by some bunch of thugs riding modified motorcycles and bluffing? They are lions, and the apex predators of the pride. Don't be stupid enough to try to hunt lions with a bunch of rats!"

He carried his long sword and strode towards the door: "You drive, we'll go first! Let the Enforcement Bureau's convoy figure out how to catch up with us. We must get to Chizuru Town as quickly as possible!"

Chizuru Town, Mambo Internet Cafe, in a cramped cubicle.

Caesar Gattuso was still struggling with that sluggish old computer. He had given up on the naive idea of ​​directly accessing the academy's website and instead downloaded a few basic port scanning and proxy redirection tools, playing the role of a novice hacker to bypass Kaguya's surveillance.

The principle is simple: since Kaguya-hime is blocking direct access to Kassel College's websites from Japanese IPs, he first pretends to be trying to access a regular website in Finland, Sweden, Germany, or China, using an overseas proxy server as a springboard, and then attempts to connect to the college's network from the proxy server.

He kept typing keywords into the search box, looking for available, anonymous overseas proxy server addresses. Once he found one, he typed the "ping" command in the command line to test connectivity, then stared at the screen, waiting for the "echo" message indicating a successful connection to appear.

Searching for a proxy, pinging, waiting, searching for a proxy, pinging, waiting...

An hour slipped away unnoticed in this monotonous, repetitive process. The feedback on the screen was always the cold, indifferent "Request timed out." It was as if an invisible, impenetrable wall completely isolated him from the outside world.

Even publicly accessible proxy servers located around the world seem to have been identified and blocked by Princess Kaguya. The firewall built by this super artificial intelligence in the Japanese branch is far more sophisticated and powerful than Caesar initially estimated.

At this moment, Caesar couldn't help but miss Chu Zihang, that expressionless guy. That guy was not only a monster in close combat, but also the undisputed number one at Kassel College in the fields of electrical engineering and network attack and defense, those "engineering nerd" fields.

Caesar used to tease him about this a lot, believing that true elites should be like him, skilled in strategy, leadership, art appreciation, and enjoying life. But now, trapped in this godforsaken place, helpless in front of a broken computer, he realized how useful that "engineering nerd" skill was at this moment.

If it were Chu Zihang sitting here, he could at least pull off some decent hacking maneuvers, instead of being like me now, a clueless novice who can only repeat the most basic "ping" command, clumsily and ridiculously.

“Mr. Gattuso, you didn’t come to a place like this on purpose, did you?” Asou Makoto, who had been quietly kneeling on the tatami mat beside her, suddenly asked softly. She was using a soft velvet cloth to give the old leather shoes, which had been mostly wiped clean of mud, revealing the original leather color, the final waxing and polishing.

Her movements were meticulous and focused, as if the shoes in her hands were not cheap and worn-out shoes obtained from thugs, but rather handcrafted custom-made leather shoes that needed careful maintenance.

Caesar then realized that while he was engrossed in the screen that kept displaying timeouts, Zhen had been working silently beside him all along. She had spent so long polishing those worn-out shoes, as if determined to restore them to factory condition.

This is probably the essence of traditional Japanese girls: quiet, polite, like a meticulously arranged still life painting, existing in a space without actively disturbing it. Only when you inadvertently look up and your eyes meet hers will you realize her presence.

“At first, I just wanted to find a regular internet cafe,” Caesar said, carefully choosing his words to make his tone sound less awkward or judgmental. “You know, I hardly understand Japanese, so I just came in when I saw the sign.”

Chapter 509 Asou Makoto, the Shoe Shineman (Part 2)

“It’s not quite like you think,” Shin said, looking up with a slightly embarrassed but trying-to-explain smile. “This place is really just an internet cafe. It’s just that it employs high school girls like me as waitresses. My job here is to shine shoes.”

She paused, her voice lowering slightly, "Of course, some customers are a bit lewd; they'll deliberately reach out and grope the girls' backs while shining their shoes. But I'm prepared." As she spoke, she pulled her collar down a few centimeters to show Caesar.

Caesar then noticed that what appeared to be a glimpse of bare back was actually a clever visual trap. Underneath, she wore a flesh-colored, highly elastic, tight-fitting undershirt, covered by a layer of sheer black lace mesh. From a distance, it did indeed appear as if skin was exposed, but upon closer inspection, the inner garments became clearly visible.

"Is that all?" Caesar was still somewhat skeptical. The atmosphere and decorations of this place made it hard to believe it was simple.

“You can also hire girls to surf the internet with you.” Zhen’s voice was even softer, with obvious unease. “I wouldn’t dare accept those. If I’m too close to the customers, they’re more likely to get handsy. And pillow fights, I wouldn’t dare either.”

She said the pillow fight was fought in English, and Caesar raised an eyebrow, a series of rather unhealthy thoughts immediately popping into his head. A war fought on pillows? That sounds pretty R18! What kind of event qualifies as a pillow fight?

Historically, Cleopatra, the Queen of Egypt, used her beauty to win over the Roman consul Antony, forming an alliance against Octavian—a far-reaching example of "pillow politics." Could such a high-level event really unfold in this tiny internet cafe?