Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

"Are you provoking me?" Genji's voice was squeezed out through clenched teeth, her knuckles gripping the hilt of the sword completely white. The blade cut in a little further, and blood began to flow down the king's neck, staining the collar of his gray kimono red.

“I’m just stating a fact,” Wang Jiang’s voice trembled slightly with pain, but he did not beg for mercy. “If you kill me now, it’s the same as me losing my usefulness. You’ll eat me too. I hope I’m delicious enough to satisfy you.”

These words were like a bucket of ice water poured over a volcano about to erupt.

Inside the carriage, only suppressed breathing and the faint sound of blades rubbing against bones could be heard.

The silence lasted for what felt like an eternity.

at last.

"Clang!" Another clear sound rang out.

The crimson light faded. Futsu-no-Mitama returned to its sheath, hanging diagonally at Minamoto no Wakana's waist as if it had never been drawn.

"Stop the car." Yuan Zhinü's voice returned to calm, even colder and emptier than before.

The Maybach slowly pulled over and came to a stop.

Yuan Zhinu pushed open the car door and stepped into the cold night rain without looking back.

The black luxury car remained silent for a moment behind him, then slowly started, accelerated, and finally disappeared at the end of the street where neon lights and drizzle intertwined.

Yuan Zhinü stood alone on the empty street.

The drizzle fell silently, dampening the open front of his kimono and the strands of hair that fell across his forehead. The distant streetlights cast a dim, lonely glow, stretching his shadow long and distorting it in the wet reflection of the ground.

He pressed his hand against the long sword at his waist, tilted his head slightly back, and let the cold rain fall on his face.

Rainwater slid down his cheeks, indistinguishable from rain or something else.

Involuntarily, the image of a night many years ago surfaced in his mind: as he led a girl named Sakurai Kogure up the stairs, the light in her eyes—a light of flattery mixed with humble hope.

And then there was her gentle smile as she sat quietly to the side, listening to him stumble through his rendition of "Yang Guifei," and then softly clapped.

"Idiot," Yuan Zhinu muttered under her breath, her voice fading into the wind and rain.

Then, he strode off, his wooden clogs clicking softly, into the deeper, colder night, like a true, homeless, wandering ghost.

Chapter 586 I'm only here to visit a friend

"The principal has personally come to Japan this time," Miyamoto Shigeo broke the seemingly harmonious but actually tense atmosphere. He adjusted his black-rimmed glasses and spoke in a voice that, though not loud, penetrated the lingering aroma of alcohol and the warm atmosphere in the room, "is it to deal with the mass resignation of the Japanese branch?"

This question, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, shattered the artificial atmosphere of their old conversation. All the girls' eyes quietly and nervously focused on them. The air on either side of the long table seemed to freeze.

Angers was already slightly tipsy. He leaned back against the cushions, one hand casually draped over the shoulder of a television newcomer named Mimi beside him, while the other toyed with a warm, smooth ceramic wine glass. His eyes, slightly glazed, gazed at the antique red ivory eaves on the ceiling. Hearing Miyamoto Shio's question, he slowly turned his head, a nonchalant smile, fueled by alcohol, appearing on his face.

“The Japanese branch? Ah, you mean the kids in the Executive Bureau who all submitted their resignations?” Angers swirled his glass, the amber liquid rippling gently. “They’re under the Executive Bureau’s management. According to procedure, the one who should be having a headache over this is Professor von Schneider. You know him, he hates unplanned chaos the most.”

He smiled and said, "I came here mainly to see old friends, to see A-He, and to see Japan. Don't you think it's the perfect time of year when the cherry blossoms are in full bloom and then begin to fall? It's both poignant and magnificent, the perfect time to travel."

Angers's evasive and even somewhat irrelevant answer surprised both Miyamoto Shigeo and Ryoma Genichiro. Ryoma Genichiro, in particular, showed a clear hint of confusion on his usually serious and rigid face, and pressed, "Does the headmaster mean that you don't want to become enemies with the Snake-Headed Eight Families because of this?"

This practically brought the potential antagonism between the two sides directly to the forefront.

Before Angers could answer, Inuyama He, sitting in the main seat, suddenly raised a hand and made a pressing motion in the air. The hearty smile on his face, which he had been exchanging toasts with Angers just moments before, had faded.

"Gentlemen, please calm down." Inuyama He's voice was calm, but it carried an invisible pressure, causing Miyamoto Shio and Ryoma Genichiro to straighten their posture. "You may not be familiar with the principal's speaking style yet."

He turned to Angers, a slight smile playing on his lips, as if explaining, or perhaps translating a secret language only the two of them understood, “The principal means that the mass resignation of the Japanese branch is a trivial matter to him, something Professor Schneider can worry about. But he came to Japan in person for something much bigger.”

He deliberately emphasized the phrase "bigger things".

Upon hearing this, Angers burst into laughter and slapped Inuyama He hard on the back, so hard that Inuyama He leaned forward slightly.

"Well said! Ah He, you truly are my best student, you understand me best!" He laughed heartily, as if the subtly witty exchange just now was merely a harmless joke between old friends. "You are simply my best translator!"

But Inuyama He's face showed little smile. He waited for Angers' laughter to subside, then his gaze, sharp as a blade tempered by ice water, slowly swept over Angers' seemingly drunken face. His voice suddenly turned low and deep, "For such an important matter that would trouble you, Principal, to personally travel all the way to Tokyo, there must only be that place, right?"

He leaned forward slightly, and spoke each word as if struck by a hammer: "Takamagahara."

The word seemed to possess a magical power; the moment it left Inuyama He's mouth, the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Although the girls didn't understand why, they instinctively felt a chill and shrank back.

Inuyama He continued, his tone growing increasingly sarcastic: "For decades, the Secret Party, or rather, you self-proclaimed noble, ancient European mixed-race families, haven't you been coveting the secrets guarded by the Snake-Headed Eight Families for generations, and the legendary abode of the gods, Takamagahara? That's why you high and mighty nobles have condescended to cooperate with the Japanese underworld, even going so far as to support puppets. Am I right, Principal?"

These accusations were sharp and direct, completely shattering the previous facade of warmth and affection. Ryoma Genichiro and Miyamoto Shio's expressions both became extremely grave. The girls held their breath, afraid to make even the slightest movement.

Despite the aggressive questioning, Angers continued to smile. He even shook his head, his smile carrying a hint of helplessness and a touch of mockery, as if he were looking at a sulking child.

"No, really no," he denied casually. "Ah He, you think too badly of me. I have no contempt for the underworld. Really."

“Oh?” Inuyama He raised an eyebrow, his tone even more sarcastic. “The former principal wasn’t the type to say such hypocritical pleasantries. You’ve always been outspoken.”

“When I say I don’t despise, I really don’t.” Angers’ smile gradually faded, but the corners of his mouth still turned up slightly.

He slowly picked up the freshly poured sake in front of him, but did not drink it. Instead, he held it up to his eyes and observed the reactions of the three people opposite him through the clear liquid.

"Otherwise, I wouldn't have allowed you to live to this day."

The moment his words fell, it was as if countless invisible, cold swords suddenly burst forth from him in all directions! It wasn't murderous intent, but it was even more chilling than murderous intent; it was the indifferent judgment of an absolute powerhouse over an ant.

The girls surrounding him, including Mimi and Kazusa, instinctively let out a short gasp, shrinking back as if electrocuted like startled fawns, their faces drained of color.

"Principal!" Inuyama He sat up abruptly, his eyebrows furrowing and his gaze sharpening like a drawn sword, piercing straight at Anger. "Until now, we, the Snake Clan, still treat you as a friend and as our former teacher! That's why I've sent my precious goddaughters to accompany you and host this most grand banquet in all of Tokyo!"

"Do you really want to completely overturn this situation and bring all the underhanded dealings to the forefront?!" His voice grew louder and louder, until it was almost a growl, carrying the imposing aura of a fierce warrior.

Angers lowered his head and continued to play with the wine glass in his hand, his fingertips slowly sliding along the delicate glaze of the rim.

“In 1946,” he said, his voice low but like a cold wind that dispelled Inuyama He’s anger, “I, representing the newly reorganized Kassel College, set foot on Japanese soil for the first time. And you, He, representing the turbulent and internally strife-ridden Snake Clan, negotiated with me in a simple Japanese-style room near Tokyo Bay.”

Angers raised his eyes and looked calmly at Inuyama He, his gaze piercing through the dust of more than sixty years.

Chapter 587 Ahe, what do you want to do?

“Back then, you also brought a group of women to keep you company while you drank. Of course, none of them were nearly as pretty or talented as your goddaughters. The food was also very simple, far less lavish than tonight’s,” Angers smiled, but there was no warmth in his smile.

"It was halfway through the meal, when the atmosphere was still quite harmonious, that you suddenly changed your expression and revealed, well, like now, an aggressive look. You told me that the mixed-race Japanese, the descendants of samurai with the blood of the sun flowing through their veins, would never submit to foreigners who came from across the ocean."

Angers paused, leaned forward slightly, and stared into Inuyama He's eyes: "Listen to what you're saying to me now, the tone you use, even that 'I'm no longer the brat you can manipulate back then' expression, how familiar it is. It's as if time has never passed, and we've just reenacted that play. Only, the roles haven't changed, but we've both aged decades."

Inuyama He's face gradually turned ashen as Angers recounted the events in a calm tone. This painful past, this past that he had tried so hard to prove he had transcended and escaped, was so casually yet precisely recreated by Angers, like a silent slap across his face.

He suddenly waved his hand, his movement carrying a resolute and decisive air!

The silent command was given. On both sides of the long table, all the kneeling girls—whether it was the rising TV star Mimi, the musician Kazusa, the chess player Kotono, the ballet prodigy Setsuko, or any other carefully selected girl—rose instantly.

Their movements were perfectly synchronized, without the slightest hesitation or lingering. They retreated swiftly and quietly, their backs pressed tightly against the walls of the Japanese-style room, before kneeling down again in the standard posture, their heads bowed, their hands folded on their knees, like the most exquisite, lifeless ornaments.

This was the custom in old Japan when men discussed serious matters and life and death; there was no place for women in such discussions.

In the center of the large Japanese-style room, only Angers, Inuyama He, Ryoma Genichiro, and Miyamoto Shio remained, along with the long table that had been cleared away. The atmosphere suddenly plummeted from sensual and ambiguous to below freezing, becoming cold and austere.

Inuyama He took a deep breath, seemingly trying to suppress the surging anger and some deeper emotion in his heart.

He looked at Angers again, his voice becoming low and slow, each word seeming to be squeezed out from his chest: "Headmaster, the reason why the family sent me, Ryoma-kun, and Miyamoto-kun here to welcome you is because the three of us were once your students at Kassel College."

His gaze swept over Ryoma Genichiro and Miyamoto Shio. "This in itself is a gesture of goodwill. The family doesn't want to resolve any potential differences between us in an overly aggressive way."

"A more intense approach?" Angers raised an eyebrow, as if he'd heard something amusing. "Do you think I'd be afraid of intense approaches, Aja?"

He put down his wine glass, interlaced his fingers on the table, leaned back slightly, and faced the three men who were waiting for him with a completely relaxed and somewhat languid posture.

“In 1946, I came to Japan alone. I didn’t even have a servant to carry my luggage,” Angers said casually. “And this time, I am alone again.”

That's a very casual remark.

Inuyama He's pupils contracted: "You mean, you alone are enough to face the entire Snake-Headed Eight Families?"

"Eight families?" Angers tilted his head, pretending to think, then smiled slightly. "That's a bit difficult. But if we only need to eliminate three or four of them, it shouldn't be a big problem."

He shrugged and added, "After all, I'm getting old, and my physical strength may not be what it used to be."

"Hilbert Jean Angers!!!"

This sentence, like a spark thrown into an oil drum, completely ignited the raging fire that Inuyama He had suppressed for so long!

He slammed his palm down on the heavy cypress wood table with a loud bang, sending the cups, plates, bowls, and chopsticks flying! He stood up abruptly, glaring down at Angers, who remained seated calmly. His white beard and hair trembled slightly with anger, and the golden glint in his eyes was like a volcano about to erupt!

"Your arrogance! It's utterly laughable!" Inuyama He's voice roared like a wounded lion. "Do you think the current Snake-Headed Eight Families are still the same Snake-Headed Eight Families that were beset by internal and external troubles and were a disorganized mess in 1946?! Open your eyes and see clearly!!"

“It is somewhat different now.” Faced with such rage, Angers remained nonchalant, picked up his chopsticks, took a small piece of translucent tuna belly, dipped it in soy sauce, and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly.

“Even someone like you, who used to only know how to pimp and hang out in the red-light district, has now transformed into a big agent who packages female stars and moves in high society. Times have indeed changed.”

Angers put down his chopsticks, picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth with an elegant gesture as if he were in a Michelin three-star restaurant, but his words were sharper than a knife: "However, Ahe, don't think that just because you've been associated with a few female celebrities, attended a few charity galas, or taken photos with politicians and dignitaries, you're really superior and have been transformed."

He looked at Inuyama He, his eyes filled with the disappointment and mockery of a mentor looking at a good-for-nothing junior. "Young man, oh, sorry, you're not young anymore. You're always like this. You've had a meal with some second-rate celebrity once, taken a photo with them once, and you can't wait to show the photo to everyone and brag about it, as if you've slept with every Oscar-winning actress."

"They keep saying 'I'm not the same person I used to be,' but what is it really? They've just managed to get on the good side of the world by associating with a few powerful 'friends' and getting into a few so-called high-end circles. They naively think they've grasped the reins of power and have a say in the world."

Angers seemed to remember something, so he pointed at Inuyama He with his chopsticks and asked casually, "By the way, He, what year were you born again? I always forget."

Inuyama He's body trembled violently, not from fear, but from extreme anger and humiliation. The muscles at the corner of his left eye twitched uncontrollably, as if a venomous snake were truly wriggling and biting there.

Every word Angers uttered was like a poisoned steel needle, piercing with pinpoint accuracy the most sensitive, vulnerable, and untouchable wounds deep within his heart. He was the head of the Inuyama family, a pivotal figure in the Snake-Headed Eight Families, and the envoy representing his family to negotiate with the leader of the Secret Party!

In Angers' words, amidst these extremely harsh taunts, he was still just that humble, subservient, and sulking child from back then. Angers could give him a piece of candy at will, or he could slap him mercilessly, trampling on the dignity he was trying so hard to maintain, just like now.

“Ah He,” Angers’ tone became somewhat earnest, yet even more cruel, “when you weren’t careful, you’ve already exposed all the pitiful thoughts in your heart.”

Inuyama He looked up and stared intently at Angers.

“You arranged such a luxurious venue, invited so many beautiful goddaughters, and put your arms around them, acting like a seasoned old fox, reminiscing about the past and talking about friendship,” Angers slowly and methodically analyzed. “Then, you suddenly turned on me, adopting this aggressive and unyielding attitude. What are you trying to prove to me with all this posturing and back-and-forth?”

Chapter 588 The King Beyond the Four Dragon Kings

Angers' gaze was as sharp as a hawk's, piercing through all of Inuyama He's pretenses and looking straight into the depths of his soul: "You want to prove to me that you've grown up? That you have an independent voice? That you're no longer that brat who needs my protection to survive?"

Angers scoffed and picked up another piece of sashimi. “So many years have passed, from 1946 to now, more than sixty years! You’re still so eager and so naively trying to prove to me that you’ve grown up.”

He shook his head, put the fish in his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and then delivered the final, heaviest blow: "But, Ah He, look at yourself. You're so old you're almost dead."

The last few words, though light and airy, struck Inuyama He's heart like a heavy hammer.

Inuyama He remained silent. He stood frozen in place, like a stone statue that had instantly lost all life. The flames of anger still burned in his eyes, but deep within those flames seeped a chilling sense of despondency and awakening.

He understood. He had made a fatal mistake. He was too hasty, too concerned. From the moment he received Tachibana Masamune's order to take charge of receiving Angers, he had been working tirelessly and racking his brains to arrange everything.

The most luxurious Japanese-style room under Tamamo-no-Mae's roof was emptied, and all her most famous, talented, and beautiful girls were urgently recalled. They were ordered to halt all activities and meticulously plan every detail. A lavish setup, stunning beauties, exquisite food and wine, and a nostalgic atmosphere.

He planned to use the grandest ceremony to make a strong first impression, allowing Angers to immediately witness the power and grandeur of the Inuyama family. Then, in the midst of the revelry, he would suddenly reveal his true colors, present his demands, and fulfill the mission entrusted to him by the family, thus intimidating Angers and forcing him to back down.