Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

At the time, the Japanese branch was newly established, and its staff were temporarily drawn from various families of the Hebi-hachi clan, with many even from priestly families serving as secretaries and clerks. They recorded Angers' various deeds in Tokyo using a classical, even somewhat exaggerated, style of Chinese writing.

"The principal was fond of Japanese culture and skilled in dual-sword techniques. He could often take on ten men and kill them all in a matter of seconds. He also loved drinking Japanese sake, especially the strongest kind of shochu. He would always have a full supply at the izakaya and drink with his colleagues from the branch office. They would often drink all night long and only stagger back home at cockcrow. Over the course of three years, the people on the road were all in awe of his power and fear of his bravery, and they called him 'Ten-Fighter'."

"Ten-Fold Fighter," Genjiro savored this nickname, which was full of the chivalrous spirit of the Edo period.

"Oh! Damn!" Yaksha exclaimed again, this time referring to the tattoo. "The principal actually has such a high-level tattoo! My father said that right after the war ended, everyone had to curry favor with the Americans. There was no other way; they were the occupying forces. I guess at that time, the family had just made contact with the Secret Party. The principal was both the leader of the Secret Party and a high-ranking officer in the US Navy, so he was definitely everyone's number one target to curry favor with. Therefore, the family gave him the highest level of courtesy—this top-tier tattoo—as a gift."

He scratched his head, his expression strange. "But this design just doesn't seem right on a university president who graduated from Cambridge. It seems that those three years the president spent in Japan weren't a scholarly visit at all; he was basically a thriving gangster!"

Genji nodded slightly; Yasha's speculation was not without merit. But at this moment, alarm bells were ringing in his mind.

Chapter 573 Two Heavens First Class - Angers (Part 2)

"Whether the principal is a sword saint or not is actually not important," Genji said in a deep voice, closing the heavy file with a soft "snap" sound, his gaze turning towards Shibuya, where the Tamamo-no-Mae Club might be located.

"The problem is that he was so deeply involved in the Japanese underworld that he knew our style of operation, organizational structure, and even way of thinking inside and out. Japan was never an unfamiliar battlefield for him, but a place he had once ruled."

Genjiro turned to Yasha, "He should have expected that the family would use this welcome party as an opportunity to put pressure on him, and might even set up a trap. But he still came, and got into the car sent by the Inuyama family to pick him up without hesitation. Moreover, he was all alone."

He stared into Yaksha's eyes: "Yaksha, you spent over a decade on the streets, you have plenty of experience in fighting and killing. Based on your experience, if you knew perfectly well that the other party had set up a banquet with ill intentions, that it was clearly a trap, why would you still choose to go alone without any help?

Yasha felt a little uneasy under Genji's serious gaze. He scratched his short, needle-like hair and showed a slightly ashamed yet trying-to-remember expression: "Boss, although I did fight and kill on the streets before, that's all in the past! Ever since the family selected me to serve you, I've turned over a new leaf and am now a respectable person in the underworld. I'm no longer that kind of low-level thug."

He paused, then added, "Besides, boss, you're the director of the executive bureau now, the future patriarch in the making. You're at the top of the underworld yourself, so you don't seem to have the right to look down on me, a former gangster."

Genjiro was stunned for a moment by his sophistry, then irritably swung his hand into a sword shape, threatening to slash at the back of the Yaksha's neck: "Get to the point! I don't mean to look down on you! I'm asking you, based on your past experience in the streets, if you go to a banquet that you know is dangerous, what's your usual reason? Speak!"

"Oh, I see!" Yaksha exclaimed in sudden realization, immediately puffing out his chest and revealing a confident look on his face that said, "You've come to the right person."

"Of course I'm prepared! On the surface, I may look like I'm all alone, but actually, I've already inserted steel plates into the lining of my trench coat, and I've stuffed my lower back, sleeves, and boots with handy short knives and iron rulers. I might even be carrying some surprises."

He became more and more excited as he spoke, as if he had returned to the days of bloodshed on the streets: "Since the enemy has set a trap for me, I'll just turn the tables on them! I'll swagger into their lair and go straight to their boss! When they think I've walked right into their trap and are off guard, I'll launch a surprise attack! I'll catch them completely off guard! The situation must be under my control! That's what you call cool, that's what you call bold! I did this when I was young and at the height of my fame! It was incredibly effective!"

Yuan Zhisheng listened quietly, his gaze growing increasingly somber.

"So," he muttered to himself, as if speaking to the Yaksha, or perhaps to himself.

“Angers must have made thorough preparations as well. We are not facing an American who knows nothing about the Japanese underworld and can be easily intimidated by his ostentation and imposing manner. We are facing a seasoned underworld veteran who knows all the rules and may even have made the rules.”

He looked up at the dazzling yet cold Tokyo night sky, as if he could see through the buildings and into the silent, turbulent waves unfolding inside the Tamamo-no-Mae Club.

“He dared to come, and he came alone.”

"Simply because he firmly believed it—"

"The situation remained under his control throughout."

Tamamo-no-Mae Club, third-floor corridor.

Inuyama Hezhen opened the front of his magnificent dark blue kimono, revealing a deep red hilt of a sword wrapped with delicate knots at his waist. The scabbard was half-concealed by the hem of the kimono, but even this small part exuded a chilling aura and an ancient feel.

The famous sword Onimaru Kunitsuna is a renowned demon-slaying sword in Japanese history, said to have been used to slay demons.

Inuyama He's hand firmly gripped the deep red hilt of the sword. In an instant, a clear, resonant sound, like the roar of a dragon, faintly emanated from the scabbard, echoing in the empty corridor, carrying with it a thirst for blood and a sense of majesty.

"Inuyama-kun! Calm down!" At the door of the Japanese-style room, Ryoma Genichiro finally couldn't hold back and shouted sharply, his voice filled with shock, anger and anxiety.

He knew full well that the family's true intention in sending the three of them was not to completely break ties with Angers and resort to violence. This should have been a contest of words and wills, a negotiation, a game of strategy! But in his rage, Inuyama He actually drew his weapon!

Once a real fight breaks out, regardless of the outcome, the already fragile relationship between the Snake Clan and the Secret Party will become irreparable! That is definitely not what the families want!

"This is the Inuyama family's territory!" Inuyama He said without turning his head. "Everything that happens here is decided by me, Inuyama He!"

“Head of the Ryoma Clan, Head of the Miyamoto Clan, please wait a moment,” he said to those behind him. Then, turning back to Angers, he added, “This kind of thing isn’t unfamiliar to me and the headmaster, is it?”

He was referring to untold conflicts that may have occurred between them in 1946, or even earlier.

“Yes,” Angers gently stubbed out his cigar on the edge of the ashtray, a nostalgic look on his face. “You’re certainly familiar with the scene of me knocking you to the ground, panting like a dead dog.”

He flashed the antique-style folding knife on his wrist, his tone casual: "But you're using the real sword Onimaru Kunitsuna, and I'm using this little thing. Aren't the weapons a bit mismatched? Won't it be a bit less fun?"

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, two slender figures, like graceful swallows, silently slid to their knees on either side of Angers.

On the left is the Go player Kotono. She holds a long, unadorned, jet-black sword in both hands. The scabbard is ancient and heavy, as if absorbing all the light. She raises the sword high above her head, her voice clear and cold: "The famous sword 'Ichimonji Norimune'. Principal, please use it."

To the right is the musician, Kazusa. She holds a long sword with a white scabbard, its sheath simple and elegant with smooth lines. She presents it with the same respect: "The famous sword 'Nagasone Kotetsu'. Principal, please use it."

Both are renowned treasures in the history of Japanese swords, in no way inferior to Onimaru Kunitsuna at Inuyama He's waist.

Angers glanced around, a slight smile playing on his lips. He spread his hands and placed them simultaneously on the hilts of two swords. This action clearly indicated his choice: dual-wielding.

"Sixty-two years have passed," Inuyama He slowly assumed the starting stance of Iaijutsu, his left thumb lightly pushing the tsuba (handguard) of the sword, his right hand loosely gripping the hilt, his body slightly lowered, his center of gravity focused on a single point, his whole being like a fully drawn bow, ready to be released.

"Principal, do you still remember the swordsmanship you learned from Mr. Tanshengyan Fudosai?"

“I don’t practice often in America,” Angers replied casually, gripping the hilts of his twin swords tightly. His posture seemed casual, yet it exuded a calm and unwavering steadiness. He didn’t adopt any fixed starting stance from any particular school; he simply stood there, seemingly one with his surroundings, yet also as if he might transform into the fiercest gale at any moment.

Chapter 574 The Snake Clan Attacks Paradise Mansion - Frillie

At 9:17 PM, the music at the Paradise House suddenly stopped.

The instruments played by the court music troupe stopped simultaneously, and the dancers froze in place, holding onto their last pose, like a movie scene that had been paused.

Frillie was serving a table of guests in the "Chrysanthemum Room"—three second-generation chaebol heirs, completely drunk, competing to see who could stack the sake cups the highest. Her hand, holding the sake jug, froze in mid-air; intuition led her to look towards the corridor.

Hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor.

"Swish!" The door was suddenly pulled open.

Qinglan stood in the doorway, pale-faced and breathing rapidly. He was dressed in black combat gear, a knife at his waist; it was the first time Frilian had ever seen him carry a weapon. His pale gold right eye gleamed dangerously in the light.

"All guests, evacuate immediately. The Paradise Pavilion is about to close. Please leave through the emergency exits. Repeat, evacuate immediately."

The three second-generation chaebol heirs in the private room were stunned.

"What's going on?" the blond-haired young man stood up. "We haven't had enough fun yet—"

"Now," Qinglan interrupted him, her hand on the hilt of her sword, "all non-Pleasure Pavilion personnel must leave within five minutes. This is the final warning."

There was something in his eyes that silenced the group of spoiled brats. It was genuine killing intent, not just posturing.

The guests began to stir. Some complained, some cursed, but all hurriedly left under the guidance of waiters and guards. They didn't care about their belongings, coats, or even their female companions; they only wanted to escape as quickly as possible.

Frilian put down the wine jug and walked towards Qinglan.

"what happened?"

Qinglan glanced at her and lowered her voice: "The Sheqi Hachi family's forces have surrounded the Paradise Mansion and are expected to launch a general attack in an hour. Miss Sakurai asked me to inform everyone that staff should also evacuate, except for combat personnel."

He handed Frilian a list: "This is the list of people who need to be evacuated first. You're in charge of the maids' quarters, and I'll take care of the waiters and the kitchen. Everyone must be in the underground parking lot within ten minutes; there will be a car to take them away."

The first name on the list was "Chiba," followed by Koharu, Akemi, Mrs. Matsumoto... almost all the maids that Frillie knew were on it.

Where is Ms. Sakurai?

“They’re preparing for the final defense,” Qinglan said. “She’s staying behind.”

"I'll stay too."

Qinglan shook her head: "Miss Ying specifically instructed that you must leave. She said... she remembers your promise to her. But now, you must leave alive first."

Frillie didn't argue; she simply took the list and strode towards the maids' quarters.

The maids' quarters were in complete chaos.

Some of the maids were packing their belongings; they had little wealth, only a few clothes and cosmetics. Some were crying; others sat blankly on the tatami mats, still not understanding what was happening.

Mrs. Matsumoto stood in the middle of the corridor, unusually without makeup, making her look ten years older. She held a bunch of keys in her hand and was unlocking the doors of each room.

"Hurry! Get to the underground parking lot within ten minutes! Only bring the most important things!"

Upon seeing Frillie, Mrs. Matsumoto quickly walked over.

"Qianyu, you're in charge of taking them away. There are fifteen buses waiting in section B of the underground parking lot. The drivers of each bus are our people, and they will take you to the safe house."

Aren't you leaving?

Mrs. Matsumoto smiled, a smile that held both weariness and relief.

“I’ve been here since the beginning of the pleasure house business. I’ve watched it grow from a small club into what it is today, and I’ve seen countless girls come and go. I’m tired, and I don’t want to keep running around like this. Besides, Ms. Sakurai needs someone to be with her until the end.”

She shoved a bunch of keys into Frillie's hand: "These are spare keys for all the rooms. Make sure everyone gets out and no one is left behind."

Frillie took the key and began checking each room one by one.

The first room belonged to Haru and Akemi. Haru was frantically stuffing things into a small bag: a few photos, a faded rag doll, and a cheap hair clip. Akemi just sat quietly, looking at the lights outside the window.

“It’s time to go,” Frilian said.

Xiaochun looked up, her eyes brimming with tears: "Sister Qianyu, will we die?"

“No,” Frillie said firmly. “As long as you follow the instructions, you will all be safe.”

Mingmei stood up and helped Xiaochun zip up her bag.

“Xiaochun, let’s go,” she said, then looked at Frilian, “Thank you, Sister Qianyu. Although we haven’t known each other for long, you are one of the few people here who don’t treat us like objects.”

Frillie didn't know how to answer, so she could only urge them to hurry up.

The situation was much the same in the next room. The maids were panicked, fearful, and reluctant, but also felt a sense of relief; they could finally leave this cage, even if it was in this way.

In the last room, Frillie encountered an unexpected person.

Yuriko, the maid who was carried away on a stretcher yesterday. She lay in bed, pale-faced, but conscious.

“Why are you still here?” Frillie asked. “You should be at the hospital.”

“I asked to come back,” Yuriko smiled weakly. “I don’t want to die in a strange place. At least, this is my ‘home’ where I’ve lived for three years.”

It's an absurd sense of belonging, but Frillie understands. In extreme circumstances, people will treat any place that can provide shelter as home, even if it's hell.

"Can you walk?"

"No," Yuriko shook her head. "My internal organs haven't recovered yet, I can't move. You guys go, don't worry about me."

Frillie didn't hesitate. She stepped forward and used her magical senses to check Yuriko's injuries. They were indeed severe, but not yet fatal. She used magic to temporarily stabilize the wounds, then picked Yuriko up.

"you."

“Shut up, save your energy,” Frillian said. “I said I would take everyone with me, everyone.”

...

In underground parking lot B, fifteen medium-sized buses had already started their engines. Maids, waiters, cooks, and non-combat personnel among the guards were boarding the buses in an orderly manner.