Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 99: Every Tortoise longs for its puddle (3)

Dragon Raja 3

“Then why not go? If you jump on a plane tonight, by the time the mission starts tomorrow night, you’ll be in South America feeding pigeons under the sun,” Caesar said. “We can handle the mission ourselves.”

“Is this supposed to be a challenge to me?” Chisei’s eyes sharpened, a cold smile playing on his lips.

“Sort of,” Caesar leaned back against the wooden armrest. “If you accept this challenge and leave Tokyo tonight, I promise I won’t tell anyone. After the mission, I’ll even jump on a plane to find you, bringing all the female members of the Student Council. They’ll all wear white lace dresses, and we’ll drink on the beach.”

“What do you mean?” Chisei didn’t understand.

“The most memorable trips in life are those where some crazy person shouts for you from below your window, and you both jump into a fully fueled car, waving a map and driving into the night! Not even knowing which direction the destination is—just wanting to get as far away as possible,” Caesar raised an eyebrow. “No cage in this world should confine a true man, with only one exception: the woman he loves.”

“Do you have someone you love?” Chisei asked.

“Strictly speaking, a fiancée!” Caesar looked out at the pouring rain. “The night I fell in love with her, it was also raining. She drove her convertible like a madwoman, circling the dormitory building and shouting, ‘I’m going to Chicago! I’m going to Chicago! Does anyone want to go with me?’ At that time, she was just a freshman, and every window in the dormitory was open. All the upperclassmen were looking down at her. I bet everyone loved her at that moment. Her hair was drenched, her dress clung to her body, her figure was so beautiful, her eyes so bright.”

“You were moved?” Chisei asked.

“Do you even need to ask? The first thing I did was draw my Desert Eagles, firing shots into the air as I jumped from the third floor!”

“I can understand jumping straight from the third floor to save time, but why shoot in the air with both guns?”

“To scare off the other lunatics, so they wouldn’t get ahead of me,” Caesar scratched his head. “But as soon as I got into her car, I had dozens of guns pointed at me. It was the guys from the School Security Department. They said that aside from Day of Liberty, we couldn’t use firearms on campus. Then the two of us, all wet, were taken to the Disciplinary Committee to listen to Professor Manstein lecture us… If you really don’t want to stay in this city as a yakuza boss, then you should just leave. Think about it: maybe there’s a girl on that flight waiting for you. If you don’t go, the seat next to her will be taken by some bald pervert. If you rush over now, you can point your gun at the pervert’s forehead, make him give up his seat, and fly with the girl you love to a nude beach in France! Isn’t that amazing?”

“Amazing,” Chisei raised his cup. “Let’s drink to an amazing idea.”

The four of them drank their cups dry. It was indeed an idea worth toasting. That was Caesar—usually reserved, but once he had a few drinks, he was filled with boundless positivity. Even if he said something as clichéd as, “Boys, we must run toward the sun,” it would still be inexplicably moving. Even Lu Mingfei felt touched, imagining the scene of Caesar, firing his Desert Eagles with both hands and leaping from the third-floor window in a torrential downpour, declaring in kingly fashion that he was going to take the co-driver’s seat next to Nono. In the reflection of the gunfire, he must have looked extraordinarily cool—so cool that even a girl like Nono couldn’t refuse him. Lu Mingfei wished he could be the protagonist of that scene, as brilliant as a morning star.

“But I can’t do it,” Chisei put the ceramic cup down on the table.

“Can’t let go of the position of family head?” Caesar frowned.

Chisei didn’t answer but instead walked to the edge of the terrace, gazing at Tokyo in the rain, “This city used to be called Edo. When it rains, I feel like Tokyo becomes Edo again—candlelight and shadows of flames. Back then, it was the most fashionable and avant-garde city in Japan. The shogun established his government here; the Portuguese sold arquebuses and red-clad cannons at the port, and girls carrying baskets walked through the streets selling small imported tins. The samurai at that time still had the right to carry swords and would stride proudly in the middle of the road. If commoners blocked their way, the samurai would draw their swords and threaten to cut them down. At night, the reformists’ assassins were active, and the shogunate officials lived in constant fear. The yakuza in Edo Castle took shape then. It consisted of fallen samurai, artisans, dockworkers, and prostitutes, people who relied on their skills to make a living and formed guilds to avoid being bullied.”

“I thought Japan’s yakuza was run by the Yamata no Orochi,” Lu Mingfei said.

“No, the yakuza emerged after the Edo period. Before that, the Yamata no Orochi were aristocratic families. Ordinary people in ancient Japan didn’t have surnames, but hybrids did, which indicated they were of noble lineage. The Yamata no Orochi once served various lords, including the emperor, the shogunate, and warlords during the Sengoku era. The historical ninja lord, Fūma Kōtarō, was one of the Yamata no Orochi, and the head of the Fūma family has always been called Fūma Kōtarō. Initially, yakuza gangs were organizations formed by the weak. Those who could earn money respectably and live affluent lives disdained the yakuza. Originally, the Yamata no Orochi also disdained the yakuza, until they lost their land and property in the upheaval and could no longer sustain themselves. So, the eight heads of the families at the time intervened in the yakuza, getting their hands dirty to earn money. They used their hybrids’ talents to establish authority in the yakuza, protecting the guilds formed by the poor and taking tribute from them in exchange for their protection. The role of the Yamata no Orochi as enforcers in the yakuza was gradually established from that time and hasn’t been in place for too long.”

“So what?” Caesar didn’t understand.

“As you might know, Japan is a country that allows yakuza organizations to register legally because some of the long-standing yakuza gangs were originally guilds formed by the weak for self-protection. Many years ago, they were weak, and now most of them are still weak. Visiting this building alone doesn’t give you a true understanding of the Japanese yakuza—the real yakuza exist in the corners and alleys beyond the lights, forming a shadow society of the weak. The yakuza is rejected by society, but it can’t be eradicated because there will always be lowly, weak, and dark people. Compared to successful, kind people, they seem ugly and are society’s underclass. But where there are upper classes, there will always be lower classes, and from them, dark organizations grow.”

“So, you’re saying that the Yamata no Orochi are leaders of the weak?” Caesar said, “Yakuza positioning themselves this way seems a bit like whitewashing.”

“We are, of course, not saviors, nor do we intend to lead the weak in building a society without oppression. We are people who do business with the yakuza—we take money from gangs to maintain balance among the yakuza. But we are indeed the leaders of the weak—that much is true.” Chisei said, “When most people think of the yakuza, they think of those leaders with the power of life and death—enjoying alluring women, throwing cash around to reward their underlings, killing anyone they dislike. But those living at the bottom of the yakuza are mostly people who can’t enter mainstream society—the punks who threaten shopkeepers with knives for protection fees are often kids from single-parent families, expelled students, or those who can’t afford college. The women selling charm in the nightclubs are often single mothers or those who have experienced domestic violence from their fathers, even been raped by stepfathers. To these women, their bodies are not something precious. They’ve never thought about what they’ll do when they grow old and can no longer attract men—they live only for the present because they can only live in the present. This is the shadow society.”