Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 410: God’s Downfall (2)

Dragon Raja 3

From both cars, young men in black clothing jumped out.

“Akechi, who won?” they asked in unison.

“It was Nagafune. When he passed me, his Porsche was ahead by half a car length,” Akechi Asuya replied.

“The car’s too heavy, I was slower on the last corner,” the loser tossed a stack of bills to the Porsche driver, Nagafune.

“On the way back, we can race again,” Nagafune said.

The trunk opened, revealing a disassembled sniper rifle. Nagafune swiftly assembled the weapon.

More cars screeched to a halt in front of the roadblock. They were all high-performance sports cars, driven by young men and women in their twenties. The drivers parked their cars in a neat line, immediately opening their trunks to check their equipment. All twelve squad leaders of the Kanto Division had arrived.

The squad leaders of the Kanto Division were each codenamed after famous Japanese swords. Nagafune, codenamed “Nagafune,” was an exceptional sniper. The GTR owner, codenamed “Kagehide,” had the ability to create air bombs out of thin air. Asuya’s codename was “Kikuichimonji.”

Though they had worked together for years, and some were even classmates at Cassell College, the squad leaders refrained from small talk. Small talk was not the style of the Kanto Division. Tigers rarely roar, and those who meow when gathered are mere cats.

“The plan is to open the Well of Hidden Remains at midnight tomorrow. Is the patriarch arriving tomorrow morning?” Ryoma Genichirō asked.

“Yes, the patriarch is not fully confident in the effectiveness of mercury and thermite incendiary bombs, so he decided to personally oversee the final phase of opening the Well of Hidden Remains,” Asuya said, bowing slightly. “He will bring Miss Erii, escorted by the Kansai Division.”

Ryoma Genichirō nodded slightly. “The highway is not an issue, but we need more people to fortify the forest.”

“Understood!” Asuya replied. “We’ll depart as soon as we finish checking our weapons. You can trust us with securing the forest!”

“Kotetsu, what’s in your car’s trunk?” Ryoma Genichirō frowned. He didn’t want to say it outright, but he had caught a stench coming from Kotetsu’s car.

“A bunch of Colombians surrounded me right before departure. I didn’t have time to deal with the bodies, so I brought them along,” Kotetsu said with a grin, his metallic jaw glinting sharply.

Kotetsu’s jaw had been severed by a blade and replaced with a metal prosthetic. He didn’t see it as a mark of shame; instead, he deliberately left it unpainted, as if flaunting it to those around him.

Ryoma Genichirō was displeased. He had always known Kotetsu to be a violent maniac. His weapon of choice was a serrated kukri blade, perfect for cleaving through flesh and bone in one strike. The bodies in the trunk were likely mangled beyond recognition.

The Kanto Division was a problem division, filled with geniuses who were also madmen. In addition to their love of street racing, some were addicted to drugs, some gambled compulsively, and others bet their fingers in games of chance. Tachibana Masamune had been deeply troubled by them during his lifetime but couldn’t bring himself to abandon them. After all, a person without quirks couldn’t truly be called a genius. In a way, geniuses were always freaks. Without Tachibana Masamune’s sponsorship, these eccentrics would have long been cast out of the family.

As the division leader, Asuya’s quirks were the least disruptive. He was obsessed with dissecting corpses, buying them through illegal channels and meticulously analyzing muscles and bones in his private “operating room.”

Ryoma Genichirō didn’t like this group and didn’t want them lingering around him. He sent them to assist the Fūma Clan’s ninjas in fortifying the forest.

“Ryoma Patriarch, would you like to see these Colombians?” Kotetsu asked, resting a hand on the trunk. “Some of them are still relatively intact.”

“You scoundrel! Is that any way to address the patriarch?” Ryoma Genichirō roared in anger. Among the eight patriarchs, he was the most rigid and upright.

But Kotetsu opened the trunk anyway. A nauseating stench overwhelmed Ryoma Genichirō, but he immediately realized something was wrong. This wasn’t the smell of decaying flesh—it was the stench of reptiles!

A serpentine shadow shot out of the trunk, stretching its body like a straight arrow. It sank its fangs deep into Ryoma Genichirō’s throat, piercing his neck.

Ryoma Genichirō’s vision darkened, though he was still conscious. He struggled to reach for the radio at his waist.

The Kanto Division had betrayed them! The Kanto Division had rebelled! The Oni Clan’s assault on Red Well had begun!

Asuya crouched, watching with interest as Ryoma Genichirō struggled in agony. The Death Servitor coiled around him, biting and tearing. What good would a radio do now? The Death Servitor had destroyed his throat and windpipe in the first instant—he couldn’t even make a sound.

Kagehide’s Yanling, “Shadow Thunder,” created bombs by compressing air to its limit. The violent shockwaves radiated from the sports cars, injuring soldiers before they could even raise their weapons. Those stationed farther away as lookouts were taken down by Nagafune’s sniper rifle. The other squad leaders charged into roadside tents, where most soldiers were resting. Moving like ghostly shadows, the squad leaders executed swift throat slashes.

The massacre was silent, save for Kotetsu’s gleeful roars from the largest tent, where blood splattered against the windows.

Asuya did not join the slaughter. Such low-tier targets weren’t worth his personal attention. Standing upright, he inhaled the scent of blood carried by the night wind, savoring the symphony of screams.

This was a day worth celebrating. From now on, the Kanto Division had severed ties with Yamata no Orochi and was completely free.

Tachibana Masamune had been wrong about one thing: while geniuses were valuable, they could serve anyone. Yamata no Orochi or the Oni Clan—it made no difference to Asuya.

He only cared about two things: the thrill of dissecting corpses and power.

As one of the family’s most outstanding young talents, Asuya had been sent to Cassell College for advanced studies. At Cassell, he held an undefeated record in close combat and was known as the “Demonic Blade.”

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