Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 399: Sakura’s Fall (6)

Dragon Raja 3

Death wasn’t frightening; it was just too lonely.

The Mercedes slid back to the unloading area. The cargo doors of the box trucks opened one after another, and pairs of golden eyes lit up in the darkness, like hordes of hibernating snakes awakening. A large amount of white cold air was released from the trucks; it turned out these Death Servitors had been kept frozen at low temperatures, only now being released into the battle.

It was truly a perfect killing trap, with every step calculated so precisely.

A Death Servitor leaped out from a vehicle, landing on the car roof. Two metallic blades stabbed down simultaneously but were repelled—the car was bulletproof. Raikiri thrust upward from below, piercing through the car roof into the Death Servitor’s abdomen. Black blood smeared over the silver roof like ink. As expected of a famed blade, it was far sharper than the Death Servitors’ metallic blades. Chisei lowered the car window and retracted Raikiri. He wasn’t here to sacrifice himself; he was here to kill the enemy. He was the king of the Japanese underworld. Tachibana had said that every king would die, just in different places. The battlefield was the king’s rightful place; the enemy’s blood was the king’s wreath.

Just like how Sakura, even when jumping off Tokyo Tower, took a few Death Servitors with her—truly an obedient girl he had trained!

He maneuvered the Mercedes back and forth, ramming as he swung Raikiri to slay the Death Servitors. Splashes of black blood stained the car body repeatedly. The Death Servitors couldn’t harm him for the moment and could only swing their metallic blades at the Mercedes, venting their desire for slaughter.

Chisei couldn’t remember how many times he had swung his blade or how many Death Servitors he had struck. He just swung Raikiri tightly, leaving no gaps. His consciousness began to blur; the lightweight short sword felt as heavy as a mountain in his hand. His strength was nearly exhausted.

At that moment, a bright light tore through the darkness, and the Mercedes shuddered violently as something crashed into it from behind. It was Chisei’s black Hummer, repeatedly ramming the Mercedes while running over the Death Servitors again and again. The Mercedes began to slide on the oil-soaked ground, and the Hummer pushed it toward the exit.

Tachibana! Tachibana had returned! The Hummer was Masamune’s off-road vehicle, capable of handling the oil-soaked ground. Tachibana intended to forcibly push Chisei up to the surface!

They slowly squeezed out of the cluster of cars and re-entered the ramp. The Hummer’s tires struggled to grip the ground, climbing inch by inch. Chisei turned to look back; the scene behind was both terrifying and awe-inspiring. The swarm of Death Servitors tried to block the ramp, but they couldn’t stop the Hummer. Tachibana nodded at Chisei through the car window, skillfully manipulating the gears, accelerator, and brakes. The Hummer’s heavy body pressed the Death Servitors against the walls, mercilessly crushing their bones.

A light appeared ahead—they were about to rush out of the garage. The ground at the top of the ramp had been washed clean by rain. Chisei tried stepping on the accelerator; the Mercedes regained power and shot up to the surface like a soaring bird.

Chisei slowed down, waiting for Tachibana so they could leave this hellish tower together.

But the Hummer seemed to have exhausted all its power, slowly sliding back down the ramp into the depths of the underground garage. Death Servitors jumped onto the roof, like a pack of wolves finally bringing down a strong wild horse. Chisei didn’t understand what was happening; he knew that vehicle’s performance too well, and it had plenty of fuel. Through the car window, Tachibana slowly waved at him. Only then did Chisei see clearly—Masamune was covered in blood, four broken metallic blades piercing his body, all hitting vital points. It wasn’t the Hummer that had lost power; it was Tachibana.

The Hummer looked sturdy, but unlike the Mercedes, it wasn’t bulletproof; the Death Servitors could easily pierce its body.

Tachibana had indeed fulfilled his promise. He had taken over Sakura’s duty to protect Chisei and break through the siege. Why did he come back? Didn’t he say he still had a few years left? That he could still see Chisei’s wedding.

In such a short time, perhaps the one who would have become the bride had died, and the one who was supposed to play the role of father had also died.

Tachibana opened the car window and fired at the oil on the ramp. Flames soared, and a stream of fire rushed into the depths of the garage. The Hummer started its engine one last time, turning sideways to block the entire exit. Masamune rolled down the window. The Hummer, carrying the Death Servitors, slid into the depths of the passage. They screamed sharply, like ghosts being burned by hellfire. A series of explosions came from the garage; probably the cars inside were ignited, exploding one after another.

Chisei stumbled out of the car, standing in the wind and rain.

Fire had started burning from the base of Tokyo Tower, illuminating the entire structure. A high monk had once taught Chisei Zen, saying, “The Three Realms are unsafe, like a burning house.” At this moment, Chisei suddenly recalled this phrase and felt it was so true. This world is so cruel and painful; everyone lives in a burning house, suffering torment.

A dozen or so Death Servitors escaped from the fire and spotted Chisei, immediately surrounding him. But as they approached, they hesitated. Chisei was unarmed, but they sensed a great danger.

They circled around Chisei, torn between the temptation of fresh flesh and the oppression of fear.

A violent pressure descended from the sky, crushing them into the ground. Kingship erupted unprecedentedly for a second time—this time, it was like the wrath of a tyrant. The Death Servitors’ bones deformed and shattered in an instant. They were twisted and torn by distorted gravity, sinking into the asphalt road. The ground subsided; everything around shook. Huge cracks ran through the plaza; underground water pipes burst, and water columns shot into the sky. Chisei still stood silently, seemingly unaware that he had just released his Yanling, his eyes blank.

A massive explosion sounded in the sky, flames engulfing the swarm of Death Servitors at the top of Tokyo Tower—that was the blast of a SAM-16 missile. Crow stood not far away, a smoking launcher on his shoulder. The firelight illuminated the side profiles of the two men; neither spoke as the heavy rain poured down.

In the empty mall, Ruri was trying on clothes.

A hang glider had brought him to the roof of this building; below was a department store. Ruri knocked on the mall’s door, placed his blood-stained long sword and 2 million yen in front of the elderly guard, and smiled at him.

The old man immediately understood Ruri’s intentions. Instead of using the ornamental baton, he turned on the mall’s lights and invited him to choose freely. As Ruri walked into the mall, the old man said softly from behind, “Wearing such formal clothes to kill someone—do you hate that person so much?”

Ruri was surprised that a doorman had such courage to speak to him, a person covered in blood. He turned and smiled, “Yes, do I look good?”

The doorman rolled up his sleeves, revealing a koi tattoo. “I was a gang member in my youth. So, are you a boy or a girl?”