Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

He touched the scar on his face, looking distressed. "Passersby would probably call the police if they saw it, thinking I was going to rob them!"

When Tachibana Masamune was around, Yasha was always silent and gloomy, like the most professional guard machine. But when he was alone with Genjiro, he completely relaxed and reverted to his carefree street thug nature. In the words of the crow, this is called "like father, like son," because Genjiro was not a serious and rigid person in private.

Yuan Zhisheng didn't look at him, still gazing into the distance, and said calmly, "I meant I'm going to France to sell sunscreen. I didn't say I was taking you three clowns with me."

He emphasized the words "lively treasure".

Yaksha, a cigarette dangling from his lips, scratched his short, stiff hair, which resembled steel needles. "First of all, there are only two real goofballs, me and Crow. Sakura is different; she's such a reliable female warrior! Secondly, boss, according to the family's old rules, the three of us have long been branded with your mark; we're your retainers. Now that you're gone, who in the family would dare to use us? Who would be willing to use us?"

He sighed and made an exaggerated expression: "In the underworld, the three of us are in the prime of our lives, the time to make our mark! But what happened? Just because you, the head of the family, are determined to pursue poetry and distant places and sell sunscreen, we have to retire early, living on the family's meager relief funds, and spending our days squatting under the eaves in the sun, waiting for meals."

Yasha counted on her fingers, "Sakura's alright, she's pretty and has a good temperament. Even if she reforms, she can easily find a decent job or get married. As for Crow, although he's a hypocrite and a beast in human clothing, at least he's good-looking and has a silver tongue; he could probably fool naive girls and not starve. And look at me—"

He pointed to his face, "A face full of fat is a compliment! Looking like this, who would believe I've reformed? I'd rather go to France with you, boss! I can build some muscle, get a tan, and maybe even become a windsurfing instructor on the beach. The magazines say French women love the wild and masculine type like me!"

Yuan Zhisheng finally turned his head and glanced at him, his eyes calm and indifferent: "From what you're saying, you two have been discussing your future prospects after I go to France quite a bit in private?"

Yaksha, caught out, wasn't embarrassed. He chuckled twice and said, "Well, we just chat occasionally. Just in case!"

"Don't worry," Genji's voice became very soft, "I've already made arrangements."

Yaksha was stunned, forgetting to even smoke the cigarette he was holding.

“I have some money,” Yuan Zhisheng said.

Yaksha nearly choked on his smoke, coughing twice: "Boss, you're the Director of the Enforcement Bureau now, the future patriarch in the making! You call this having a little money? Do you have some misunderstanding of the word 'a little'?"

“The family’s money belongs to the family. My money is mine,” Yuan Zhisheng corrected him, his tone calm. “I have a deposit in Mitsubishi Bank, not a lot, but not a small amount either. I made an investment plan, and the beneficiaries are all three of you.”

Yaksha opened his mouth wide, not even noticing the cigarette ash falling onto the expensive stone slab.

"After I leave, there will be no place for anyone in the family to stay." Genji's gaze became distant and cold. "You are the former patriarch's close retainers, his shadows."

"Under the new power structure, you are destined to be ostracized, marginalized, and may even become targets for some people to establish their authority or eliminate dissidents. The ways of family politics, with their intrigue and veiled malice, are not for you."

Genjiro glanced at Yasha, who blushed, "You only know how to be straightforward."

“So, before I leave, I’ll find a suitable reason to kick the three of you out of the family. Openly and without mercy,” Genji continued. “That way, at least on the surface, you’ll be completely cut off from me. That money from Mitsubishi Bank is enough for each of you to buy a decent apartment in a less central area of ​​Tokyo and settle down.”

Yasha was completely speechless, staring blankly at Genjiro's profile.

"In addition, I also bought a few small shops in Nan'aoshan. The property owners are all in Sakura's name." Genji paused. "It's not that I don't trust you and Crow. It's just that one of you is a gambler and has a loose hand. The other is always entangled with those shady women and can't hold onto any money. Putting it with Sakura is the safest option."

"Sakura will become the owner of those shops. One of them is a ramen shop; I've tried it, and it's pretty good. Every month, the shop's profits will be distributed to you. If one day you're so poor you can't even afford food, remember to go to that ramen shop. The ramen is free. I've already spoken to the owner."

Yaksha lowered his head, took a deep drag of his cigarette, and then slowly exhaled. Amidst the swirling smoke, the shoulders of this man, usually as fierce and ruthless as a demon, slumped slightly.

After a long silence, he finally spoke in a slightly hoarse voice: "Boss, congratulations."

Yuan Zhisheng was somewhat surprised: "Congratulations on what?"

“You used to always say you wanted to leave, to go somewhere far away from Japan. But back then, it was just talk. At most, you would buy different brands of sunscreen online to research them, like a child dreaming of distant toys.”

Yaksha raised his head, his usual playful smile gone, his eyes filled with complex emotions. "But today, it sounds like you've already made arrangements for your affairs, even thinking so thoroughly about where we burdens will go. This means that you really can leave at any time, and there's nothing left to hold you back."

He sighed, "Although I'm quite reluctant to part with him, this is a good thing. Really, boss, congratulations."

Yuan Zhisheng remained silent and did not respond to the congratulations.

Chapter 571 Looks Like Father and Son

As if to break the slightly melancholic silence, Yasha nudged Genji with his elbow, winked, and lowered his voice, saying, "Boss, there's something else. Haven't you considered taking Sakura to France to sell sunscreen?"

Genji frowned and looked at him: "Take Sakura with you?"

“That’s right!” Yasha said with a “you just don’t understand” look on his face, while secretly observing Genji’s expression out of the corner of his eye.

"Both Crow and I privately think Sakura is pretty good! She's beautiful, capable, quiet but meticulous, and quite skilled. She can be a bodyguard in a pinch! Boss, your French isn't very fluent, is it? Going to France and not knowing anyone there is no easy task! Having a beautiful and capable woman by your side, she can be a shop assistant or maid during the day, and at night, uh, she can also... help you pass the time. Isn't that great? It's a win-win situation!"

"Get lost," Yuan Zhisheng uttered expressionlessly.

Yaksha shrank his neck but didn't move: "Get out of here after you finish this cigarette."

"Get out now."

"Sigh, alright, alright," Yasha said sullenly, crushing the half-smoked cigarette against the railing. "So, after I leave, do I need to come back?"

“No need.” Genjiro had regained his cold, stern tone as the head of the Executive Bureau. “Go find Crow and Sakura, and call a meeting immediately. I need a complete and actionable plan to attack Paradise Mansion. Details, the more detailed the better.”

Yaksha's expression immediately turned serious, and he stood up straight.

"That's a place where all evils gather, the heart of the Demon Clan in Osaka. The fact that it has been able to operate in the deep mountains for so long unscathed means it must have a powerful protector behind it. Which members of parliament? Which high-ranking police officers? It might even involve people in the financial and media sectors. I need a detailed list, along with evidence of their connections to the Pleasure House."

"Is there anything else you need to know?" Yaksha asked.

"The Bliss Palace's own defenses: How many guards are there? What level of weapons are they equipped with? Does it have heavy firepower? Architectural plans, especially the locations of safe houses, secret passages, and vaults. Approximately what is its daily and weekly cash flow? How will they transfer or destroy cash in critical moments? Also, what is the list of resident, important gamblers, and who requires special attention?"

Yuan Zhisheng's gaze was sharp as a knife: "Casualties must be minimized. I don't want to make a big fuss and mobilize the entire Execution Bureau for a massive attack on the mountain. What I want is a precise, surgical strike. Once the attack begins, all routes in and out must be completely blocked—air and ground, all shut down. Not a single one of the ghosts on the list can escape! Do you understand?"

"Understood!" Yaksha replied in a deep voice, then turned to leave.

"Wait, take the file back," Yuan Zhisheng suddenly called out to him again.

Yaksha turned around and said, "Yes."

"Hey? Boss, do you want to take a look at this photo? Principal Angers and the Inuyama family head don't seem to have such a bad relationship." Yasha was about to take it away when a photo in the file caught his attention.

Yasha pulled out a black and white photograph from the file and handed it to Genji.

Yuan Zhisheng took the photograph. It was clearly an old and poorly preserved photograph, with yellowed edges and some parts blurred due to overexposure. The background of the photograph was a busy naval port, with huge warships standing like steel mountains in the distance. In the foreground, the seawater reached up to his calves, foaming with white foam.

There are two people in the photo. One is younger, looking to be under twenty, with a slightly outdated "boyish" hairstyle common in the Showa era, wearing an ill-fitting old-fashioned military uniform, his face still bearing traces of childishness, his eyes somewhat restrained, yet also containing a hint of excitement and longing. He stands in the front row.

Behind him stood a tall European man, dressed in American military uniform and wearing a military cap. His face was somewhat obscured by the strong backlighting, but a smile played on his lips. The man's hands were casually and naturally placed on the shoulders of the Japanese boy in front of him.

Below the photo is a yellowed label that reads in English: "1948, Yoshioka & Principal Anjou, Yokohama Naval Port." Next to it is a Japanese note: "A photo of the first Japanese branch head, Inuyama He, and Principal Anjou of Angers."

Looking at the still-childish Inuyama He in the photograph, and then recalling the Inuyama family head before Tamamo-no-Mae, dressed in a dark blue kimono, exuding an imposing presence, Genji felt a momentary daze. The power of time was vividly displayed in this photograph.

What alarmed him even more was that the Angers in the photo did not look much older than the silver-haired gentleman he met at the airport today; on the contrary, he had become even more mature and charming.

“This doesn’t necessarily mean they had a good relationship,” Genji said, putting the photo back on the table. “At the time, Inuyama He was a proxy handpicked by the principal, a ‘puppet.’ Taking a photo together in public and appearing closer might have been a political necessity, a gesture for outsiders.”

“No, no, no, boss, it’s not like that.” Yasha shook his head repeatedly, pointing to Angers’ hands on Inuyama He’s shoulders in the photo, with a smug look on his face that said, “You just don’t understand.” “Chief, you don’t have a father, so you probably can’t see the trick to it. People with fathers can understand it at a glance.”

Yuan Zhisheng was taken aback by his abrupt and poignant words, a vein throbbing slightly on his forehead: "What does this have to do with whether I have a father or not?"

His background is an open secret within his family, and also one of the deepest wounds in his heart that he is unwilling to touch.

"Of course it's related!" Yasha didn't realize he had stepped on a landmine and was still analyzing the photo on his own. He pointed at the photo and said, "Boss, look at the principal's gesture. His hands are on the shoulders of the Inuyama family head, and his body is leaning forward slightly. It's a very natural gesture, with a bit of... how should I put it, closeness and casualness, and even a bit of a protective attitude."

He gestured, "When my dad was still alive, he always liked to strike this pose whenever we took a picture together. I used to complain that he was heavy and putting all his weight on me, so I got impatient and told him to stand up straight and stop leaning on me. My dad would then tap my bottom with his umbrella and yell at me, 'You brat! Isn't a son just a father's cane? It's only natural for me to support you!'"

As Yaksha spoke, a silly grin, a mixture of nostalgia and helplessness, appeared on his face: "Actually, all that talk about canes and canes was just him talking nonsense. Later, I slowly figured it out. It's because in my dad's heart, his son is always a child, always someone shorter than him. When taking pictures, the shorter one should stand in front, right? When he put his hand on me, it wasn't because he really needed to support me; it was just a habit, a gesture to show 'this kid is under my protection.'"

Genjiro paused slightly, his gaze returning to the old photograph. Angers' hand resting on Inuyama He's shoulder, Inuyama He's slightly stiff yet striving-up straight back. Yasha's words, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, rippled gently through his heart.

He suddenly remembered that not long ago, when Tachibana Masamune left the Shōjin-ji Temple, his last action was to walk behind him and press his hands firmly, with warmth and a sense of entrustment, on his shoulders.

That gesture was so similar to Angers' gesture in the photograph.

Chapter 572 Two Heavens First Class - Angers (Part 1)

When he turned to a page, Yuan Zhisheng's hand trembled, and the long piece of cigarette ash between his fingers finally gave way, falling with a "snap" into the bowl of miso soup in front of him, which had long since gone cold, creating a small, silent ripple.

His gaze was fixed on a black and white photograph in the file.

The photo was taken in 1948 at a traditional kendo dojo in Tokyo. The wooden floor was gleaming, and the air was thick with the smell of sweat and the clatter of bamboo swords.

In the center of the photo stands a man dressed in a white kendo uniform and black hakama, but with a suit shirt on his upper body that seems out of place with his surroundings. He holds a wooden sword in each hand, his back slightly bent, his posture as steady as a mountain, his eyes as sharp as a hawk.

Around this man, ten other men, all dressed in kendo gear and wielding wooden swords, moved slowly and cautiously, forming an impenetrable encirclement. Each man's posture was precise and powerful, indicating they were all skilled kendo practitioners.

The photograph captures the stillest moment before the storm. Every muscle in the man's body seems taut, power flowing like an undercurrent into the twin swords in his hands. In the next instant, a devastating attack will erupt.

Yuan Zhisheng's heart began to beat faster and faster uncontrollably.

This is a trial where one fights against many! In some ancient Japanese kendo schools with long histories and extremely strict requirements, such a cruel trial is held to assess whether the disciples have truly mastered the essence of the school and to obtain the highest title, "Menkyo Kaiden".

Those who serve as opponents are by no means mediocre; they are often the best among their peers. Historically, nine out of ten swordsmen who pass this trial leave behind a legacy of fame as "Sword Saints" or "Sword Masters."

Genjiro himself was a master of the renowned Kyōshin-meike-ryū school of Japanese Kendo, holding the title of Menkō-kaiden. He was well aware of the difficulty of passing the trials. The highest trial of Kyōshin-meike-ryū was "one against seven," which was considered an extremely rigorous standard, and only a very few could pass it.

But the trial in the photo is actually "one against ten"?!

What kind of trial is this? Why would it set such an absurd, almost impossible standard?!

Genjiro hurriedly looked at the caption below the photo, his fingers trembling slightly with excitement. The yellowed, vertically formatted Japanese text read:

"In the 23rd year of Showa, Hilbert Jean Angers, a disciple of the 'Niten Ichiryu' school, passed the 'Ten Trials' and was awarded the 'Permission to Transmit All' certificate and seal."

“Niten Ichiryu,” Genji murmured the name.

The ultimate school of swordsmanship founded by Miyamoto Musashi, the most renowned and almost deified swordsman in Japanese history, in his later years was Niten Ichi-ryu.

However, as a specific school of thought, Niten Ichi-ryu's reputation in later generations was far less illustrious than that of its founder, Miyamoto Musashi. After Miyamoto Musashi's death, the school rapidly declined, and no top swordsman comparable to its founder ever emerged again.

This is not because the swordsmanship theories passed down by Miyamoto Musashi are wrong. On the contrary, it is said that Niten Ichi-ryu demands an unbelievable level of talent, comprehension, physical ability, and even mental fortitude from its practitioners. It pursues a kind of almost utopian swordsmanship principle that transcends the limits of ordinary people.

Many later swordsmanship researchers even believe that some parts of the Niten Ichi-ryu principles expounded in Miyamoto Musashi's "The Book of Five Rings" written in his later years are simply ideal swordsmanship that "cannot be used in actual combat," and are a philosophy left for future generations to understand, rather than a swordsmanship that can be copied.

The records show that Hilbert Jean Angers, this Englishman, was actually a master of the Niten-ryu school! This means that within the realm of Kendo, he is likely one of the very few living legends in Japan today who is qualified to be called a sword saint!

“Oh, damn it,” Genji squeezed out a whisper through clenched teeth, feeling a chill creep up his spine.

His gaze was immediately drawn to another detail in the photograph: Angers had rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing his well-defined forearms. And on those arms, a tattoo was clearly visible!

The left arm is entwined with a vibrant, lifelike tiger descending from the mountain, its head menacing, as if ready to devour someone at any moment. The right arm features a demonic mask with a blue face, fangs, and glaring eyes, exuding both evil and majesty!

A typical Japanese Ukiyo-e style, with rich colors and full composition, created by a top-notch tattoo master.

This is a tattoo design that only those with extremely high status in the Japanese underworld can possess!

"Oh! What the hell!" Yaksha, who was standing nearby, also came over and saw it, and couldn't help but exclaim in shock, his face full of horror, "Principal, the principal is actually a sword saint?! This, how is this possible?!"

"What are you yelling about?" Genji frowned, recovering slightly from his shock, and gave Yasha a cold glance. "You've completely missed the point. The point isn't whether he's a sword saint or not."

He lightly touched the tattoo design with his fingertip, "Look at the tattoo on his wrist. He actually has such a high-level underworld tattoo. And this, the Ten Trials."

The archives contain further details. It turns out that Angers spent nearly three years in Japan in the initial years after the war.

It was during those three years that he spearheaded the establishment of the executive bureau of the Japanese branch, setting the basic organizational structure that remains in use today. He himself had a great interest in ancient Japanese martial arts, especially Kendo and close combat, and formed a close friendship with a reclusive Kendo master at the time, Tansou-Iwao Fudosai, despite their age difference.

This Mr. Danshengyan was the sole successor of the Niten Ichiryu school of Miyamoto Musashi at that time.