Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

From the very first words exchanged, Angers clearly and unequivocally established his rules of conduct.

"Is that all? Is that all?! Too slow! Too slow! Too slow!!"

The roar from memory, traversing sixty years, resounded once more in Inuyama He's ears, overlapping with Angers's harsh reprimands in the dance floor at this moment.

Heartbreaking.

Time and again, in the simple dojo, in the courtyard filled with cherry blossoms, Angers wielded his sturdy bamboo sword, knocking him to the ground time and again. Mud mixed with sweat and blood soaked through his thin clothes.

Inuyama He was like a defiant young beast, his eyes red, lunging forward recklessly, only to be knocked down even more easily and casually. In Angers' light gray eyes, which seemed to see through all weaknesses, he was just a little dog with its baby teeth not yet fully grown, baring its teeth and trying to be fierce.

Angers was his teacher. This was a fact that Inuyama He had been unwilling to admit, yet could not deny, deep down for many years.

Without the support of Angers and his secret party, the Inuyama family would have had no chance of revival in the turbulent and dog-eat-dog era of the postwar period, let alone stand out from the internal strife and be able to take up the seemingly prestigious but actually precarious position of "first Japan branch chief".

Angers gave him strength, status, and hope to revive his family. But at the same time, he trampled on his dignity in the most cruel and merciless way, crushing all his pride into the mud.

For Inuyama He, the three-year special training was an endless nightmare. Angers constantly mocked him, using the most biting, sarcastic, and incisive language to belittle him to nothing.

Inuyama He was his sparring partner, and the only job of a sparring partner was to be knocked to the ground again and again, to taste the bitterness and helplessness of defeat.

Inuyama He dared not resist, nor even show too much dissatisfaction. Because in front of Angers, he was too weak. Everything he had—the survival of his family, his personal future—was a gift from this blond man. He was a pawn, a carefully chosen puppet, used by Angers to infiltrate, control, and even rule the Snake-Headed Eight Families.

Even today, the elders within the family, and those from other branches who look down on those from the sex industry, still secretly call him "the family traitor," "the wolf that came in from the Angkor Wat," and "the lackey of the secret society."

Inuyama He never refuted it, nor was he able to. Because, in a sense, it was the truth, the original sin and price he had to bear for survival and revival.

But to whom could he confide his inner pain and humiliation?

Chapter 598 Ninth-Tier Moment

Every time Angers stepped on his head with the sole of his boots and he heard those cold taunts, Inuyama He would uncontrollably see those pale, loose thighs and those prostitutes who silently endured the brutal abuse of American soldiers like dead flesh.

He seemed to see himself, the entire Inuyama family, and even a microcosm of post-war Japan. Having lost their dignity, they could only eke out a living by adopting the most servile posture.

“I don’t despise gangsters, Ahe,” Angers sneered as he stabbed him in the chest with a bamboo sword, “I only despise trash! Want dignity? Sure! It’s simple, defeat me! As long as you’re strong enough to trample me underfoot, your dignity will naturally return!”

Is that so, teacher?

Does defeating you bring me dignity?

Teacher, do you know? The rise of our family that I long for has never been just about power and wealth. I hope that everyone alive in the family—my sisters, my descendants, and those women who depend on the Inuyama family for survival—can live with dignity, without having to sell their bodies and souls for survival, without having to be subservient and grovel before others.

However, we seem to have embarked on a paradoxical path. We have risen, gained power and status, but the price we have paid is the permanent loss of our most precious dignity.

Is that so, teacher?

If I defeat you, will I really be able to get everything back?

Ninth-tier instantaneous strike, 516 times the speed of a divine slash!!!

Deep within his soul, the eighteen-year-old boy, suppressed for over sixty years and never truly dead, unleashed a heart-wrenching roar like a raging lion! All his humiliation, resentment, sorrow, and anger transformed into a violent force that broke through all constraints!

"Kunimaru Kunitsuna" is out of its sheath!

The arc drawn by the blade was no longer filled with murderous intent, but instead carried an extreme beauty of desolation, as exquisite as the delicate eyebrows of a peerless beauty, or as fleeting glimpses of a startled swan on the horizon.

Due to the extreme speed, the tough blade was even slightly bent by the air resistance, emitting a mournful cry of unbearable strain. This legendary demon-slaying sword, passed down for hundreds of years, was now on the verge of shattering.

Iaijutsu Mastery! A slash that surpasses the speed of sound!

At this moment, Onimaru Kunitsuna's blade truly broke the sound barrier!

"boom!"

A sonic boom! A visible, milky-white, cone-shaped shockwave, spearheaded by a blade, exploded outwards. The violent, high-frequency air vibrations, like invisible blades, swept across the entire dance floor even before the physical blades themselves. The crystal glass floor crackled and splintered, and the shattered red silk was instantly torn into even finer powder.

A thin, almost invisible line of blood suddenly bloomed on Angers' shoulder! A few drops of crimson blood were blown up by the sonic boom and fell silently like reeds in the autumn wind.

He injured Angers!

Although it was just a minor superficial injury, this was the first time in over sixty years that Inuyama He had truly touched the body of this seemingly invincible man!

In that instant, Inuyama He caught a fleeting, extremely complex emotion in the depths of Angers's perpetually calm, seemingly all-encompassing light gray eyes.

It wasn't surprise, anger, or the coldness of being offended.

Instead, it was a sense of relief, like a meticulous craftsman finally seeing his painstakingly crafted work finally shine with the long-awaited brilliance.

However, this feeling disappeared even faster than it appeared.

The next second, Angers held the left wrist of "Nagasomi Kotetsu" and, with an angle so precise it was almost imperceptible, gently twisted it, causing the blade to rotate half a circle in his palm, with the back of the blade facing forward.

Then, seemingly casually, he swung it horizontally.

"Thud!" A muffled sound.

Inuyama He took a solid blow to the side of the blade. The immense force instantly threw him off balance, sending him flying like he'd been hit by the side of a speeding truck. He crashed heavily into the red silk shards several meters away, kicking up a cloud of red dust.

The world spun, his ears rang sharply, his vision blurred, and his brain seemed to be sloshing around inside his skull. The hybrid's powerful physique prevented him from immediately losing consciousness, but the severe concussion left him unable to control his limbs. He could only lie there, panting heavily, each breath carrying the metallic, bloody smell of rust.

"Idiot," Angers muttered under his breath, sheathing his sword and standing still.

In his hazy state, Inuyama He even had the audacity to entertain a bizarre thought: the principal had spent three years in Japan, yet he probably knew very little Japanese, and most of it was just profanity. What was the atmosphere like at the main campus of Kassel College, really?

"Can I reach half your speed?" Inuyama He struggled to gather his scattered thoughts, his voice low and hoarse like sandpaper rubbing. He was still unable to get up for a moment, Angers's blow had been extremely fierce.

“I don’t know,” Angers’ voice came from above, flat and emotionless. “However, the fact that you could hurt me, even just a little bit, shows that you’ve finally made some progress.”

"I'm so old, cough cough, I'm almost dead." Inuyama He gasped for breath to relieve the burning pain on his cheek and the dizziness in his head, letting out a few hoarse and unpleasant laughs. "In your eyes, haha, am I the one who has grown up?"

He saw that Ryoma Genichiro and Miyamoto Shio looked horrified and worried, and were about to rush down from the third floor. He quickly mustered all his strength, barely managed to raise one hand, and waved weakly.

"Don't come any closer," he said breathlessly. "Please, apologize to Mr. Masamune on my behalf. These are personal grievances between me and the principal."

“Bring a chair over here.” Angers stopped looking at Inuyama He on the ground and turned to the girls who were stunned by the dance floor. His gaze fell on Kotono. “Also, go and bring down the cigar I just put on the third floor.”

Kotono trembled, glanced at the patriarch who was lying on the ground, his life hanging in the balance, and then at Angers, whose expression was calm but unquestionable. She bit her lip, not daring to disobey in the slightest, and hurriedly ran off to do it.

Soon, several girls worked together to carry over a luxurious high-backed velvet sofa, which they placed with some difficulty in the center of the dance floor, on top of the tattered red silk.

Kotono carefully carried the cigar and ashtray over on a silver tray. After Angers put the cigar down, it did not go completely out; a small, dark red, slowly smoldering flame remained at the top.

Angers walked over, naturally picked up the cigar, took a deep drag, and slowly exhaled thick smoke from his mouth and nose.

He then gestured with his chin to the girls: "Put your patriarch on the sofa. I reckon he has a concussion; it's better for him to lie down."

The girls exchanged bewildered glances. This man had just defeated them all, along with the head of the family, and now he was giving them orders in such a caring tone.

But the head of the family's life was clearly in the other party's hands, so they dared not disobey. They could only carefully and clumsily help the limp Inuyama He up from the ground and place him on the large, soft sofa.

Inuyama He lay sprawled on the sofa, his limbs still unresponsive, only his eyes able to move slightly, looking at Anger.

Chapter 599 Angers: My four-person team to Japan is pretty good, isn't it?

“Bring another chair,” Angers said, as if ordering a waiter. “Now we can finally have a proper chat.”

He paused, then added, "And by the way, a martini, on the ice. Remember, shake it, don't stir."

Soon, another high-backed sofa of the same style was brought in and placed opposite Inuyama He's. A crystal-clear martini, with olives inserted and frost clinging to the rim, was also respectfully presented to Angers.

Angers sat down opposite Inuyama, relaxed. He placed the martini on the small table beside him, casually toying with the antique-style folding knife in his left hand, the blade twirling between his fingers, reflecting a hazy light.

The small wound on his right shoulder had stopped bleeding, leaving only a few dark red marks on his white shirt, almost negligible compared to his rising sweat and lean physique. He really did look like he had just finished a vigorous aerobic workout.

Inuyama He struggled to open his swollen and aching eyes, looking at the man opposite him who seemed never to tire or be in a sorry state, and that familiar feeling of helplessness and resentment welled up in his heart again.

“I know you’ve always been unwilling to admit that you’re my student,” Angers said, taking a sip of his martini and getting straight to the point.

“Heh, student, it would be more accurate to say it’s your dog, wouldn’t it?” Inuyama He chuckled hoarsely, revealing his blood-stained gums. “But dogs are always unwilling to admit that they’ve been kicked and beaten badly by their owners.”

“Don’t say that, Ahe,” Angers shook his head, his tone sincere. “How could you be a dog? You just look a little stupid. Dogs are much more obedient than you.”

"Heh," Inuyama He laughed again, his laughter dry. "This level of mockery is no longer effective against me, Principal. I'm used to it."

"Don't sound so aggrieved," Angers frowned, then suddenly raised his foot without warning and kicked Inuyama Hezao's foot lightly.

"Boom!"

The sofa swayed, and Inuyama He's already dizzy brain spun again, his stomach churned, and he almost vomited.

“If you do this, and others hear it,” Angers said slowly, withdrawing his foot, “they’ll think I’m the kind of cruel stepfather who abuses children.”

Inuyama He was panting, unable to refute, nor did he want to. Being treated like this in front of his goddaughters was so humiliating that he had become numb.

After a brief silence, Angers changed the subject.

"Have you met the team I sent to Japan?" he asked.

"I've seen them. They're all your favorite students, right?" Inuyama He replied hoarsely, his tone unconsciously tinged with self-deprecation and bitterness. "Not some idiot like me who's even worse than a dog. I've met them a few times; they all have excellent lineages, and they're quite interesting."

He used a vague evaluation that is commonly used by Japanese people.

“Is that really the case?” Angers raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile curving his lips. “You Japanese are always so hypocritical. You clearly think the other person is a bunch of idiots who spout nonsense and don’t know their place, but you insist on saying things like ‘quite interesting’ or ‘very unique’ to make people guess.”

He shrugged, not bothering to delve deeper, and began to recount the story as if it were a treasure trove:

"Team leader, Caesar Gattuso. Typical Gattuso style, proud to the bone, a bit rebellious, born with the belief that he should disregard all rules, including his father's. He's very confident, no, he's absolutely convinced that he was born to be the best in the world, to stand at the top. I know that one day, when he feels the time is right, he will definitely come and challenge me. I never praise him easily, but I assign him the most important tasks. He needs success, success after success. The more successful he is, the more confident he becomes; the more confident he is, the stronger the proud lion within him becomes. This is the path to his strength."

Angers paused, then continued:

“Deputy team leader, Chu Zihang. He’s a complete madman,” Angers said, his tone devoid of praise or criticism. “He’s a sword that constantly throws itself into the flames to be forged. For a sword, its purpose is to cut. Enemies, cut them; destiny, cut it; what it can’t cut, it gathers strength, sharpens its edge, and cuts again next time. So, I’m never worried about letting Chu Zihang experience failure. Every failure is a tempering for him, only making him, this sword, sharper, more resilient, and more perfect. So, I always send him to carry out the most dangerous, the most seemingly impossible, the most absurd missions, giving him endless crises and pressure. Under pressure, he will forge himself into something even more terrifying.”

Inuyama He listened quietly; these assessments largely matched his limited impressions from their interactions. The blond Italian nobleman was indeed arrogant and dazzling, while the black-haired Chinese boy was as silent as a block of ice, yet beneath that ice seemed to surge molten lava.

“As for Lu Mingfei,” Angers said with a genuine smile, “he’s excellent. I don’t need to worry about him at all; he and Frilian got things done quickly.”

Inuyama He was somewhat surprised. He knew Lu Mingfei; Inuyama Ri had told him about him. However, Lu Mingfei didn't seem to have any particularly outstanding achievements at the academy. Why would Angers use "excellent" to describe it? And why would he show such a kind smile?

Angers didn't explain, he just smiled and said, "All I need to do with Lu Mingfei is smile. Trust him, give him the choice, and then wait for the surprise."

His tone was confident, as if he believed he was talking about something wonderful that was destined to happen.

"Haha, cough. Haha." Inuyama He suddenly laughed, his laughter hoarse and strange, aggravating the injury on his face, making him wince in pain. "Is this a vicious stepfather showing off his precious biological sons to his stupid stepson? Haha! It's truly, truly a deeply moving family drama!"

He laughed maniacally, revealing his bloodshot gums and teeth.

Angers was not angered by his sarcasm. He simply watched him finish laughing, then composed himself and became unusually serious.

“Ah He, I am an educator. There is an old Chinese saying, ‘Teach according to aptitude,’” Angers said slowly, his voice low. “Different students have different qualities, different inner struggles, and different paths. Therefore, I use different methods.”

He looked directly into Inuyama He's swollen, yet still struggling-to-open eyes: "Have you never thought about what exactly that unique educational plan I devised for you is?"

Inuyama He was stunned. An educational program? Those three years of hellish training, the endless beatings, mockery, and humiliation—was that an educational program?