Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 191: Girl with Sandalwood Scent (23)

Dragon Raja 3

Three vans were parked in front of the internet café, with the high-end sports cars Caesar had damaged flanking either side in a crane-wing formation. The boys crouched behind the car doors, holding their shotguns with the barrels pointed toward the ground to avoid rainwater seeping into the chambers. The young female employees were trembling, lying face down on the hoods of the cars, pressed tightly together, blocking the front of the vehicles. The bōsōzoku had used these girls’ bodies as human shields—if anyone tried to shoot at them, the bullets were more likely to hit the girls.

On top of the central van, a man sat cross-legged in the pouring rain, wearing sunglasses and a striped suit, playing with a sawed-off shotgun.

Everyone was looking in one direction: the road out of town, which led to the mountains of Saitama Prefecture.

In the darkness, a deep roar echoed, and piercing headlights cut through the night. The Viper sports car stopped 100 meters away from the convoy. The man on top of the van started clapping lazily, and the bōsōzoku gang members followed suit, applauding like an audience welcoming an actor to the stage.

Caesar had kept the car out of range. Shotguns loaded with buckshot had immense power at close range, but their effective range was only about 20 meters. Even though some of the gang had Beretta handguns, their skill level made hitting anything at this distance highly unlikely.

Caesar fired a few rounds, leaving holes in the windshield, then smashed the glass with the butt of his gun. Through the storm, he locked eyes with Monkey face on the van.

He had figured out what the boys were shouting in the employee hallway earlier. They weren’t calling a name; they were calling a title. In Japanese, it was “Captain.” This was one of the few Japanese words Caesar had specifically learned, aside from basic greetings, because he was the leader of his team—he was the “Captain.” No wonder this scrawny, perverse man was mingling with these violence-obsessed boys; he was their leader. That was why he felt entitled to touch Lu Mingfei’s butt—because, as the captain, it was his right to take liberties with the women his team was interested in.

“I should’ve shot this guy in the head back then,” Caesar muttered softly.

Monkey face began shouting in that raspy, high-pitched voice, twisting his upper body like a snake without bones.

“He’s thanking the young master of the Gattuso family for returning his car,” Lu Mingfei translated.

“Tell him I’ll bury him in a coffin full of women’s underwear,” Caesar replied coldly.

“Boss, maybe don’t make threats right now? Miss Makoto is in their hands!” Lu Mingfei reminded him, glancing at the rooftop.

Makoto was standing on the rooftop, shivering, her back to the roaring flames. The wind whipped at her cheongsam, and her arms and legs were covered in red and purple bruises, evidence of where someone had grabbed and manhandled her. The fire was creeping closer; gasoline had been poured across the roof, and the flames were spreading along with it. The rooftop was already scorching—around seventy or eighty degrees—and it felt like standing next to a blast furnace. Any tears that left her eyes dried up almost immediately. If it weren’t for the pouring rain, she would have been burned alive by now.

“Translate what I say exactly. I know what I’m doing,” Caesar instructed, his face emotionless.

Reluctantly, Lu Mingfei repeated the message.

“No need for concern, Gattuso-kun. I’ve already prepared something special for myself,” Monkey face taunted as he pulled out a silk pair of women’s underwear from his pocket, holding it to his nose and sniffing it deeply. “Ah, Miss Makoto’s scent is so… rich.”

A vein throbbed on Caesar’s forehead. He couldn’t tell if the man had truly violated Makoto or if he was just provoking him, but either way, it worked. This was the kind of situation Caesar couldn’t tolerate. The Gattuso family’s legacy of cold-blooded violence began to stir in him. He surveyed the bōsōzoku’s defensive line—it was difficult to breach. The girls’ torn cheongsams and pale bodies stood out starkly in the night. The gang was making it clear: any attempt at violence would result in casualties.

Caesar took a deep breath, forcing his anger down. “Who’s pulling your strings?”

“Pulling our strings? Do you think Akazonae needs someone to tell us what to do? Hahahaha! The only person who could command Akazonae would be Lord Takeda Shingen himself!” Monkey face laughed uproariously.

“No matter how much that person is paying you, the Gattuso family will pay triple,” Caesar said slowly. “I guarantee you’ll live to spend it.”

“Hahahaha! It’s a good thing I was warned about the Gattuso family, or I might’ve fallen for that offer!” the man cackled. “Sure, I might live long enough to take the money, but how long before a big-caliber bullet blows my head off? Maybe before I even spend a dime, right?”

Caesar had nothing to say. The man was right. Those who extorted money from the Gattuso family rarely lived long enough to enjoy it.

“What do you want?” Caesar finally relented.

“You’ve got a gun, right? Shoot Chu Zihang in the legs and wrists, and then shoot your own legs and wrists. We know you and Chu-kun are both A-Rank Hybrids. As long as your limbs are intact, we wouldn’t dare get close to you,” Monkey face said slowly. “We don’t want your lives; our task is to deliver you to our boss for judgment.”

As Lu Mingfei translated, he thought to himself, It seems like none of this concerns me. Judging by what he’s saying, as long as my limbs are intact, I’m safe, right?

“You’ve brought all these weapons, along with that bulldozer, to find us. Is this a capture or a murder?” Caesar asked calmly. “How do I know that after I lose my ability to resist, you won’t just press a shotgun to our heads and pull the trigger?”

“That depends on how much Gattuso-kun trusts me,” Monkey face smiled. “I’m a man of my word.”

“How can I trust the word of someone who sneaks into women’s changing rooms to steal underwear?” Caesar retorted.

“It’s just entertainment. Doesn’t everyone have a hobby? I happen to enjoy freshly worn clothes that carry the scent of a girl’s body. It’s the same as how you enjoy cigars, Gattuso-kun,” the man said as he shamelessly sniffed the underwear in his hand.

This man was much more dangerous than Caesar initially thought. Many people assume that underwear thieves are cowardly and perverted, underestimating their viciousness. But some, like this man, developed fetishes during adolescence, which turned into mental illness when left unchecked. When Caesar had held him hostage earlier, he hadn’t fainted out of fear; he had played weak, urinating himself to make Caesar lower his guard.

“But it’s not my credibility that decides things here,” Monkey face grinned, showing his yellowed teeth. “It depends on whether you nobles really care about protecting women as the legends say. Isn’t it a noble’s duty to duel and die gallantly to protect beautiful women? Otherwise, how are you different from losers like us, who have no women and have to sniff underwear for comfort? Hahahaha!”