Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

Caesar hesitated for a few seconds. He could have killed the monkey-faced man, but he didn't. Killing a dying man would have been pointless.

He took a rope from his equipment box and tied the monkey-faced man up, even though he was almost unable to move, just to be safe. Then, he began cleaning up the scene.

A complete cleanup is impossible. We'll just do some simple processing: collect important weapons, destroy items that might reveal our identity, and erase any obvious traces.

During this process, Caesar heard the sound of sirens, which grew closer and closer.

Caesar quickened his pace. He gave the scene one last check, confirming that nothing of importance had been left behind. Then, he walked to the spot where Zhen had been standing, below the rooftop.

He looked up.

The flames on the rooftop had died down, leaving only wisps of smoke. Zhen's figure had vanished, but Caesar knew she would be waiting for him in a safe place.

“Miss Zhen,” Caesar said softly, in a voice only he could hear, “I’m sorry. I can’t take you with me.”

He paused, then continued, "Stay here. Wait for the Snake-Headed Eight Family to arrive. Genjiro will take care of you. He will protect you and keep you safe."

"Once I've dealt with all of this, I'll come back to you. I'll keep my promise and take you to school, to the best school."

"But I'm sorry now."

Caesar turned around and took one last look at the battlefield.

Then he walked to the other end of the street and disappeared into the pre-dawn darkness.

A few minutes later, vehicles surrounded the ruins of Mambo Internet Cafe.

They weren't police cars, but black sedans, SUVs, and armored vehicles. Each vehicle had flashing lights, but the people getting out were wearing black uniforms and snake-shaped badges.

The Eight Families of Snake-Headed Trees.

Genji stepped out of a black Mercedes. He was wearing a black kimono with a raincoat over it. He wasn't carrying an umbrella, and the rain lashed down on him, but he didn't seem to care. He held a cigarette between his fingers, the butt glowing brightly in the rain.

Yuan Zhisheng stood in the pouring rain, silently smoking and looking at the scene before him.

The streets were a scene of devastation. Burning wreckage, shattered vehicles, fallen bikers, and flowing blood.

“Young Master,” Crow walked to Yuan Zhisheng’s side and handed him a brass bullet. “7.62mm caliber. Judging from the degree of bullet deformation, the gun has been modified and is extremely powerful. The person who fired the shot was undoubtedly a professional assassin.”

Yuan Zhisheng took the bullet, held it between his fingertips, and examined it carefully. Then, he raised his eyes and looked around.

"Where is the assassin?" he asked.

“Shot in the chest, dead,” Raven replied. “A .0.44 Magnum round, no doubt fired from Caesar’s Desert Eagle. Caesar was quick; the assassin only had time to fire that one shot.”

“Murder to silence him,” Sakura added from the side, her voice cold. “This assassin is hiding in the Red Guard, his purpose being to kill the monkey-faced man at a crucial moment. Someone ordered the Red Guard to kill the Caesar Group, and only the monkey-faced man knows the identity of the big shot behind it all. Whether the mission fails or not, the monkey-faced man must die.”

Genji nodded. He took a drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaled the smoke.

"Where did the weapons come from?"

“The shotgun is Akari’s own,” Raven replied, “but the MP7 and Beretta are not things that these biker gangs can get their hands on. The people behind the scenes are the ones who arm these bikers.”

Genji was silent for a few seconds. Then he asked, "Is it still possible to track down the whereabouts of the Caesar Group?"

“We couldn’t track them down, but they shouldn’t have gone far,” Raven replied. “The family has ordered all the nearby gangs to mobilize and capture them. But…”

He paused, then looked at the other end of the street: "There's blood there, drag marks. Some of them are injured, badly injured."

A complex emotion flashed in Genji's eyes.

“Go investigate,” he said. “Find out who’s behind this. Bring him to me.”

"Yes!" Sakura answered loudly.

“If the person behind the scenes resists,” Genjiro’s voice was soft, but every word was terrifyingly clear, “break his hands and feet first, then bring him to see me. Leave the execution to me.”

"Yes!"

Crow and Sakura turned and left, beginning to direct their subordinates to clean up the scene and collect evidence.

Genji stood alone in the rain, continuing to smoke. His gaze swept across the street, over the burning wreckage, over the fallen biker gang members, finally settling on a corner.

There was a girl standing there.

She wore an oversized men's jacket, was soaking wet, her hair was disheveled, and her face was pale. But she stood straight, her eyes resolute, looking at Genjiro.

real.

Yuan Zhisheng remembered her. They had met once in that comic book and toy store. The girl was timid, like a little animal.

But now, there is no cowardice in her eyes, only determination.

Yuan Zhisheng walked over.

He stopped in front of her and looked at her.

Zhen looked at him without backing down.

A few seconds later, she spoke: "Caesar said... you would take care of me. He said... you would protect me."

Her voice was soft, but clear.

Genji nodded: "Yes."

“He also said,” Zhen’s voice trembled slightly, “that he would come back to me. He would take me to school.”

Yuan Zhisheng was silent for a few seconds, then said, "I believe him."

A glint of light flashed in Zhenzhen's eyes.

“Now,” Genjiro continued, “come with me. I will arrange for you to be in a safe place. When all this is over, when Caesar returns, he will find you.”

He nodded.

She didn't ask where Caesar had gone, how Lu Mingfei was doing, or how Chu Zihang was doing.

She simply believed.

Believe in Caesar's words, believe in Genji's promises, believe that everything will be alright.

Yuan Zhisheng reached out his hand.

She hesitated for a moment, then took his hand; both of their hands were ice-cold.

Genjiro led Makoto toward the black Mercedes.

The car door opened, and I actually got in.

Genji stood outside the car, taking one last look at the battlefield.

Then, he got into the car.

The car door closed, the engine started, and the vehicle drove away.

Disappeared into the pre-dawn rain.

On the street, only the men in black cleaning up the scene, the burning wreckage, and the fallen bikers remained.

And there's rain, endless rain.

Meanwhile, in an underground clinic.

Chu Zihang placed Lu Mingfei on the operating table. The clinic's doctor was a middle-aged man wearing glasses and looking somewhat disheveled. He examined Lu Mingfei's injuries, his expression turning serious.

"Shot in the head," the doctor said. "The bullet grazed the temple, went through the temporal bone, and may have damaged the brain. There is severe blood loss, and immediate surgery is needed."

“Then let’s have surgery,” Chu Zihang said. “What do we need? Blood? Equipment? Medication?”

The doctor hesitated for a moment: "The surgery is very complicated and risky. And I'm not a neurosurgeon. I'm just a surgeon who treats gunshot wounds."

"Do what you can: stop the bleeding, clean the wound, and stabilize the injury."

Chapter 556 What is Frillian doing at Elysium (Part 1)

At five o'clock in the morning, the day at Gokurakukan begins.

It wasn't for the guests—most of those nobles who indulged in nightly revelry were still fast asleep or unwilling to rise from their comfort zones—but for the servants. This palace of desire, brightly lit at night, revealed a completely different face during the day: solemn, busy, like a finely tuned but poorly lubricated machine.

Frillie, as a "Thousand Feathers," was also assigned to the morning attendant position. This was not Sakurai Kogure's arrangement, but rather a strict rule of Gokurakukan: all maids, regardless of rank, must participate in morning cleaning and training.

In Mrs. Matsumoto's words, "A lazy maid breeds sloth, and sloth leads to inappropriate thoughts."

Frillie was awakened by the morning bell in the maids' quarters. Lady Matsumoto personally struck the pillars with a wooden stick, once every five seconds for thirty seconds. The sleep-deprived maids struggled to get up; the quick ones had already prepared cold water for washing, while the slow ones were doused with a bucket of cold water.

"Get ready in three minutes and assemble in the courtyard!" Mrs. Matsumoto's voice was more piercing than a morning bell.

Frillie quickly changed into the standard kimono for a maid, a pale blue cotton kimono with a small stripe, plain and almost shabby. She noticed that the other maids' kimonos were all different colors. The courtesans wore peach pink, the geishas wore light purple, while those with special skills like herself wore light blue. The hierarchy was clear and immediately obvious.

Four rows of maids, about fifty in total, stood in the courtyard. Their ages ranged from fifteen or sixteen to their early thirties, but all of them kept their heads down, no one spoke, and even their coughs were suppressed.

Mrs. Matsumoto stood on the steps in front, surveying the scene like a general inspecting his soldiers.

"First row, third seat, hair is messy."

The maid who was called out trembled as she adjusted her sideburns.

"Second row, seventh person, the kimono obi is tied incorrectly."

The maid's face turned pale. Tying the belt incorrectly was a severe punishment, which meant that she might have undressed without permission last night.

"Everyone else, begin the morning cleaning. The guests in the north wing drank too much last night and vomited everywhere. It must be cleaned up by the end of the day, leaving no odor."

The maids scattered like fallen leaves blown by the wind.

Frillie was assigned to the tea room area in the east wing. With her were two young maids: one named Koharu, sixteen years old, with a childlike face, but frighteningly dark circles under her eyes; the other named Akemi, around twenty years old, taciturn, but with unusually skilled movements.

"Is Chiyu-neechan a newcomer?" Koharu asked softly while wiping the tatami mats. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"It's alright," Frilian replied, wiping the tea set with a rag.

"You're really amazing," Xiaochun said enviously. "I had insomnia every night for the first month, and I would wake up at the slightest noise. I'm only getting used to it now."

As she spoke, her sleeve slipped down, revealing fresh bruises on her wrist.

Frillie pretended not to see: "Do we all have to get up this early in the morning?"

“Every day is like that,” Akemi said in a low voice. “We get up at five, assemble at five-fifteen, start cleaning at five-thirty, have breakfast at seven, and start training at seven-thirty. We train until ten, and then, depending on the evening schedule, we either rest or continue training.”

"What kind of training?"

"Tea ceremony, flower arrangement, koto playing, dance, and how to serve guests," Koharu said. "Mrs. Matsumoto said that we are the brand of Gokurakukan and we cannot let our guests down."

"And what about the afternoon?"

"You can rest in the afternoon, but you can only stay in your own room. You can't move around freely, visit other rooms, or leave the Pleasure House." Akemi wiped a teacup and carefully checked for any remaining stains. "Preparation starts at six o'clock in the evening, and we officially start work at seven o'clock until the guests leave. Usually it's two or three in the morning, sometimes even later."