Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

"Thud!" It was a dull sound, like a heavy hammer hitting a sandbag.

Even with clothing covering him, the Desert Eagle's terrifying muzzle energy and deafening roar couldn't be completely suppressed, creating a dull echo in the narrow corridor. The muzzle flash instantly burned through the thin clothing, leaving a charred burn mark on the boy's back.

The specially made Friga tranquilizer dart, carried by the blood, was rushing toward the boy's central nervous system at an alarming speed.

Caesar swiftly reached out with his other hand, catching the limp boy and gently laying him flat on the ground. The whole process was as fast as lightning. He then drew the two short-barreled shotguns he had just captured, holding them with both hands, his sharp eyes scanning the entrances at both ends of the corridor like searchlights, his entire body tense, like a fully drawn bow.

A shot was fired. Despite their best efforts to conceal it, was the sound loud enough for a keen ear to detect? Had the madmen in the hall been alerted?

Time ticked by in the deathly silence. The weasel faithfully brought back the sounds from the hall: the boys' unrestrained laughter, the girls' suppressed sobs and pleas, the sound of smashing bottles, the rough shoving and insults. The various sounds mingled together, forming a nauseatingly noisy scene.

Caesar frowned and spat out a curse. Although he vehemently disliked hearing the girls' cries of being bullied, at this moment, this sinful cacophony served as the perfect cover for their actions.

A dozen seconds passed, but the anticipated horde of thugs did not materialize. Caesar slowly lowered his pistols, the muzzles lightly tapping the floor. His tense nerves relaxed slightly, but the gloom between his brows deepened.

Zhen kept her mouth tightly covered, her body trembling slightly. Just a short while ago, she had firmly stated that she believed Caesar was not the kind of vicious thug depicted on the wanted poster. But what she had just witnessed—Caesar lunging out like a cold-blooded grim reaper, pressing the muzzle of his gun against a grown man's back and firing—his unwavering ferocity and decisiveness were like a wild beast plunging its claws into the heart of its prey.

This was a huge shock to her, an ordinary girl.

Chapter 524 Caesar: Lu Mingfei, you're wearing a cheongsam

Caesar noticed the genuine fear. He went over, knelt down, took her cold, trembling hand, and gently pressed it against the carotid artery in the wounded biker's neck: "Can you feel a pulse? Steady, strong. This is a Friga tranquilizer dart, not a live bullet. He's just asleep; he's not in any danger."

A clear, rhythmic pulse came from her fingertips. The color gradually returned to her deathly pale face. She looked up at Caesar, her eyes filled with lingering fear and relief. She nodded firmly, her voice still trembling slightly: "I... I knew it! Mr. Gattuso is a kind man!"

Lu Mingfei, standing to the side, crossed his arms and watched this scene, letting out a soft, ambiguous hum from his nose: "Hmm!"

Caesar wasn't telling the truth; what he just said could only fool laymen.

Caesar glanced at Lu Mingfei but remained silent. Indeed, the tranquilizer dart from Friga wasn't lethal, but he hadn't ordered a proper examination of the other two men's jawbones, which were likely shattered into pieces. Without surgery from a top orthopedic specialist, they would likely be living on liquids and specially made prosthetic jawbones for the rest of their lives.

Apart from his philandering father Pompeii, who liked to solve problems with charm, the rest of the Gattuso family had the gene in their blood that was not stingy with the use of precise violence.

At this moment, the girl's cries coming from afar were like needles pricking Caesar's nerves, while he had to hide in the shadows like a mouse. This sense of frustration naturally brought a sense of ferocity to his actions.

Caesar acted swiftly. He stripped the blond boy of his black leather jacket, which was covered in jingling silver chains, rivets, and exaggerated stickers, and draped it over himself, then put on the boy's heavy Doc Martens boots with iron cleats.

He had to regretfully abandon his meticulously polished leather shoes; among a group of bikers wearing boots, a pair of overly clean and casual leather shoes would be tantamount to self-exposement. As for his hair, his long, messy, and dirty blond hair, worn from the journey, ironically fit the wild and unrestrained aesthetic of the biker gangs.

Caesar casually tied his long hair into a loose ponytail at the back of his head, with a few strands falling in front of his forehead, adding to his decadent and unruly temperament.

"Great idea, boss, you want to change your clothes and infiltrate the biker gang?" Lu Mingfei looked at Caesar's disguise and suddenly realized.

“It’s not just me,” Caesar said calmly, his gaze sweeping over the biker on the ground, who had been shot in the back, his pale white sheepskin trench coat stained with large patches of red dye and charred bullet holes. This outfit was clearly unusable.

He glanced again at Lu Mingfei's incongruous hospital gown, "We'll have to get you a suitable coat too."

Caesar turned to Zhen and spoke quickly: "Zhen, do you have any spare uniforms of this style in the store? It would probably require a height of a little over 1.7 meters and a waist of about 2.1 feet."

Zhen was slightly taken aback and shook her head: "These specially made cheongsams are very expensive. The store only provided one for each person, and there are no extras."

She frowned and thought for a moment, then her eyes suddenly lit up, and she clapped her hands lightly, "Ah! But Mr. Mingfei can wear mine! My height should be about the same as yours!"

"Hmm?" Caesar looked Zhen up and down with some surprise. In his memory, she always had her head slightly lowered and looked very petite standing next to him, but now, upon closer inspection, he realized that she was actually quite tall. "I didn't realize you were so tall."

"Back in middle school, people always said I could only marry a tall athlete," she said with a slightly embarrassed smile, straightening her posture slightly. After taking off her high heels, her barefoot height was indeed close to 1.7 meters, with a well-proportioned frame; it was only because of her habitual hunching and standing next to a giant like Caesar that she wasn't so conspicuous.

"Stop! Stop it!" Upon hearing this, Lu Mingfei immediately raised his hands in a pause gesture, his expression as if he had heard some utterly absurd suggestion. "Shouldn't we ask for the consent of the parties involved before doing this? Your heated discussion is completely useless! Why should I wear it and not you, boss? Besides, I definitely won't be able to walk in high heels! I'll fall and die!"

"You've ever worn high heels?" Caesar asked coldly, his icy blue eyes scrutinizing him.

"How could that be! Of course I don't! Do you think I'm the kind of effeminate man with a cross-dressing fetish?!" Lu Mingfei's eyes widened, his tone full of "Does that even need asking?"

"You'll know if it fits once you put it on," Caesar said, his logic simple and direct. He grabbed Lu Mingfei by the collar and dragged him into an empty cubicle without a word. "Also, congratulations, you're about to experience it firsthand and temporarily become a cross-dressing man! It's required for the mission!"

"Hey hey hey?! Boss, you can't do this! I protest! I have the right to keep my men's clothes! Miss Zhen, help me!" Lu Mingfei struggled in vain, but he was no match for Caesar's strength.

The other two unconscious biker gang members were quickly dragged into the same cubicle. Just as the sliding door closed with a soft click, a flurry of footsteps erupted in the hallway outside, accompanied by the unrestrained laughter and shouts of more teenagers.

A large group of bikers walked down the corridor outside, roughly loading and cocking their short-barreled shotguns as they went. The clanging of metal and the creaking of springs were clearly audible, and the air was thick with a restless energy, eager to unleash their violence. They were probably looking forward to testing the deer bullets on some prey.

A deathly silence fell over the cubicle. Lu Mingfei could clearly hear his heart pounding in his chest; his earlier protests and jokes about wearing women's clothing vanished instantly. Passing by outside were real, lawless desperados, capable of pulling the trigger for amusement or on a whim.

If they were to discover the bloodstains on the ground at this moment, or become suspicious of the tightly closed sliding door, they might very well unleash a volley of bullets through the door without hesitation. A storm of metal composed of hundreds of lead bullets, if struck head-on by such a thing, would likely make even identifying the remains extremely difficult.

Lu Mingfei suddenly understood with profound clarity why the student welfare handbook at Kassel College solemnly listed "Free repatriation of remains" as a benefit. This was no joke or mere formality; it was a genuine, hard-core welfare benefit based on stark reality, truly considering the needs of students and their families!

"Take off your clothes! Quickly!" Caesar leaned against the sliding door, holding a short-barreled shotgun in each hand, pointing the muzzle at the crack in the door, and gave the order in a low voice without turning his head, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

"Take off your clothes? Am I a real prostitute?" Lu Mingfei said, unbuttoning his plaid shirt as he uttered another vulgar remark.

This is a deeply ingrained problem of his; the more tense and fearful he becomes, the more his strange defense mechanism kicks in, making him want to use witty banter or silly jokes to dilute the almost solidified sense of terror, as if this would allow him to regain some control of the situation, or at least make it easier for him to breathe.

A fleeting image of a silver-haired elf calmly flipping through a magic book flashed through his mind, strangely calming him down a little. At least, he couldn't collapse here; there were still people waiting for him to return.

"Stop talking nonsense! Take them off! Clothes and pants! All of them!" Caesar's patience was nearing its limit.

The cubicle was pitch black, so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. Simultaneously, the rustling of clothes came from both corners. In the absolute darkness and the imminent crisis, the slight awkwardness stemming from their gender was temporarily set aside. Lu Mingfei groped along the wall, trying to shrink into the corner to avoid bumping into Zhen opposite him when he stretched out his arms or legs.

He first crumpled up the clothes he had changed out of—jeans and a velvet plaid shirt—that he had borrowed from the hospital, and gently tossed them toward the direction where Zhen was, as he remembered. Zhen fumbled for them and caught them. The clothes didn't fit Zhen perfectly, but they were at least normal men's clothing and not difficult to put on.

However, putting on that sexy cheongsam made in Manchester became exponentially more difficult. To accentuate the female curves to the maximum extent, the cheongsams made for the waitresses in the store were all a size too small; the fabric was stretchy but extremely form-fitting.

Lu Mingfei fumbled for the silky, cool clothes in the dark, sweating profusely, but to no avail. The zipper was stuck, and the buttons were misaligned. The more he tried, the more chaotic things became.

Just then, a very light footstep approached, carrying a faint scent of sandalwood. Zhen groped along the wall and came to stand in front of Lu Mingfei.

“Mr. Mingfei, don’t worry, I’ll help you.” Zhen’s voice was very soft. She had completely recovered from her initial fear, or rather, she had suppressed her fear and focused on the task at hand.

In the darkness, Lu Mingfei couldn't see her face, but he could feel a pair of nimble, slightly cool hands gently swatting away his erratic movements. Then, she found the position of his collar, zipper, and buttons, and methodically helped him straighten, tighten, and fasten them. Her movements were gentle; she even smoothed out the wrinkles on Lu Mingfei's collar and cuffs.

Lu Mingfei stood frozen in place, letting her do as she pleased. At this moment, outside the door was the clamor of thugs and deadly threats, while inside was almost frozen darkness and an atmosphere of extreme tension.

Yet, a girl he had only known for a short time, in this chaotic, life-or-death moment, meticulously and almost ritualistically adjusted his absurd disguise. There were no words, only the subtle rustling of clothing and their suppressed breaths, so close together.

Lu Mingfei's heart was gently touched.

This feeling is strange, unrelated to romance, more like a glimpse of warmth and perseverance in the ordinary world amidst despair. It's like a soldier adrift in the chaos of war, perhaps about to die in some unknown corner, but then, in the trenches, a stranger quietly hands you a clean bandage, or simply straightens your crooked military cap.

At this moment, you will feel that it is worth fighting and risking your life to protect such a small and precious thing.

Of course, Lu Mingfei immediately overturned this analogy. What he needed to protect now was his own life, as well as the expectation of the thousand-year-old mage who might be leisurely drinking tea and reading a book that he "shouldn't die easily."

"Alright," Zhen's voice pulled Lu Mingfei back from her brief daze. She took a step back, and in the darkness came the faint sound of her groping for her newly changed, slightly oversized clothes.

Lu Mingfei shifted his limbs, the tightness of the cheongsam making him extremely uncomfortable, especially the chill from the slit and the restriction on his movements. But he didn't complain anymore, he just took a deep breath and whispered, "Thank you."

Chapter 525 Mingfei: Flax Fall

Caesar's fingertips lightly touched the phone screen, the dim light illuminating the lower half of his sharply defined face. He took one last look at the photos of himself and Lu Mingfei, then turned off the screen and slid the phone into his jacket pocket.

"One last confirmation: we only have one chance to get through the lobby."

Zhen looked at Caesar, his gaze lingering on the Italian nobleman for a moment. Caesar's disguise was actually the simplest: a dark blue work jacket stained with machine oil, deliberately messed-up blond hair with oil stains, and a pair of old work boots covered in dust.

The problem was Caesar's exceptional physique; his broad shoulders and muscular arms remained clearly defined beneath his jacket. Zhen frowned slightly, reaching out to pull Caesar's collar open further, revealing a glimpse of a tattoo on his collarbone—a falcon with outstretched wings, its lines rough yet undeniably wild.

“The tattoo exposes part of your body,” Zhen explained softly, “so they’re more likely to think you’re a gangster rather than an outsider.”

Caesar nodded; he understood the logic. In this lawless land, marking often signified belonging. He stretched his shoulders, the fabric of his jacket rustling softly.

“Those two boys you knocked down,” Shin continued, “were not even twenty years old, but they were nearly 1.8 meters tall. Young Japanese people aren’t that short these days.”

The implication is that while Caesar's height and physique are outstanding, they are not entirely unusual within such a group. As long as he doesn't attract too much attention and doesn't display overly standard fighting stances, he might be able to get away with it.

Zhen turned to Lu Mingfei, her expression becoming complicated.

The cheongsam was deep red, embroidered with a golden phoenix, and slit up to mid-thigh. Surprisingly, it fit Lu Mingfei perfectly; it was indeed the largest size he'd found in the storage room. The fabric clung to his body's curves, and if one ignored his flat chest, he did indeed appear somewhat slender and feminine from behind.

“The problem is in the hair,” Zhen said softly, her fingers hovering a few inches above Lu Mingfei’s head, but without actually touching it.

Lu Mingfei's hair was neither long nor short, with uneven ends, the result of not styling it for a long time. A few strands of hair fell to her brow bone, while the hair at the back of her head stood up in a messy updo. This hairstyle would be considered sloppy on a man, and illogical on a woman. No Japanese girl would treat her hair like this, especially a girl working in this kind of place.

Lu Mingfei shifted uncomfortably, his high heels clicking softly on the floor. He wasn't used to the height of those shoes.

“I have a way,” Caesar suddenly said. “I’ll carry him out on my shoulders. He can wriggle, he can punch me, and it’s normal for his hair to get messy.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over Lu Mingfei’s chest. “As for his flat chest, in this position, no one will notice that detail.”

Lu Mingfei's face was a little pale in the dim light: "What if they think I'm struggling too much and come up to help?"

Caesar chuckled. "If I were a thug, kidnapping a woman from a store, my intentions would be crystal clear. Who would come to my aid then? Perhaps they'd be willing to share it with me?"

His words revealed a precise understanding of the psychology of these teenagers. In this group that adheres to primitive rules, the right of the strong to possess property is inviolable unless someone wants to challenge it.

Before Lu Mingfei could say anything more, Caesar strode forward, wrapped one arm around Lu Mingfei's waist, and slipped the other under his knees, effortlessly hoisting him onto his shoulder. The movement was fluid and natural, as if it had been rehearsed countless times. Lu Mingfei gasped in surprise as the hem of his cheongsam slid down to his upper thighs, revealing his pale skin.

"Don't be so agitated, don't arouse suspicion," Caesar whispered a reminder, his voice devoid of any hint of jest.

Lu Mingfei froze for a moment, then began to awkwardly twist his body, pounding Caesar's back with both hands. The force was very light, more like a futile struggle.

Zhen stood to the side, her hands clasped in front of her lower abdomen, and bowed slightly: "Just walk straight ahead through the hall and you'll reach the women's changing room. Since I'm dressed like this, I won't see you through."

Caesar adjusted the position of the "prey" on his shoulder and turned to look at Zhen. "See you after this is over."

She smiled slightly and said, "Okay, next time you come to the store, I'll shine your shoes again."

“The next time I come,” Caesar said, pulling open the dressing room door, the hinges creaking slightly, “I certainly won’t come to have you shine my shoes, but to take you to read.”

He paused for a second, carefully considering his next words. "When we meet again, just call me Caesar."

He bowed again, this time deeper. She didn't respond, but Caesar knew she remembered.

"Goodbye," Lu Mingfei said, hanging on Caesar's shoulder, struggling to lift his head and waving to Zhen. The movement caused him to lose his balance and almost slip, but Caesar caught him steadily.

"Goodbye," she said softly.

Lu Mingfei and Caesar walked forward down the corridor. Caesar's steps were steady and powerful, while Lu Mingfei swayed rhythmically on his shoulder. The lights behind them gradually dimmed, stretching and distorting their shadows until they finally merged into the darkness deep within the corridor.

After walking quite a distance, Lu Mingfei couldn't help but look back.

Zhen was still standing at the end of the corridor, in the deepest shadow, gently waving to them.

Her figure was slender, like a faded ukiyo-e painting. The girl from her hometown stood on the platform, bidding farewell to the young men who were going far away, vowing to make something of themselves. The wind would lift her skirt, the train would take her gaze away, but she would stand there until the last carriage disappeared from sight.

Lu Mingfei felt a tightness in his throat.

"Boss," he lowered his voice, making sure only Caesar could hear, "don't you think that a gentle personality like a Yamato Nadeshiko is actually quite nice?"

Caesar didn't answer immediately. His footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, each step rhythmic. They were approaching the door at the end of the corridor, beyond which lay the hall, where at least twenty biker gang teenagers armed with shotguns had gathered.

“From this moment forward,” Caesar finally spoke, his voice devoid of emotion, “you are the Yamato Nadeshiko.”

Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly pushed open the door at the end of the corridor.

Light and noise surged in instantly.