Dragon Raja 2; Chapter 10: A Dark Rainy Night (10)

Dragon Raja 2

Suddenly, he felt something strange—the kite string had snapped.

It was the kite string between him and the man. For a long time, he only saw the man occasionally, but there was always a line connecting them. But now, that line had snapped.

The man hadn’t run back with him. He had broken away from the shadows and turned back, charging toward Odin!

The shadows that had taken the case were already attacking again. The man’s domain had expanded to cover everyone. But Odin didn’t slow down—he pulled out Gungnir and struck, lightning flickering. In an instant, countless stabs—the mythical spear that never missed its target. Each thrust carried a dark golden glow, the arc of the spear attacking the man’s vital points like a dense meteor shower.

The man completely ignored the shadows, dodging among the “meteors,” spinning and swinging his sword, stepping on the shadows to jump high, striking at Odin—at the god’s head!

Suddenly, blood gushed from his back, and he fell, landing among the shadows. The “meteors” he had dodged, like fireflies, circled around and struck him from behind. Odin withdrew Gungnir, and the shadows approached the man step by step.

“Son! Drive away!” the man roared at Chu Zihang, his entire body steaming with thick, blood-red mist.

Chu Zihang understood. The man was just trying to draw all the shadows around them to himself—using himself as bait.

“Do as you’re told! Remember your promise to me,” the man said, his blood-red eyes locked on Odin, yet he was speaking to Chu Zihang. “If I die, the only thing I leave in this world is you. If you die too, then I have nothing left in this world.”

“Son, trust your old man. If you live, we’ll have a chance to meet again.” The man flexed his bleeding arm. “If you stay here, I won’t be able to use some of my best moves.”

“This car is great, nine million well spent—it can’t even be stopped by a god!”

Chu Zihang faced the keyless dashboard and understood what the man had been boasting about earlier. This car could be started by three people, and he was the third.

“Start.” He said.

The engine roared.

“Well done, son!” the man shouted, voice like thunder.

Chu Zihang shifted into reverse, the car speeding backward. The man had secretly taught him how to drive, using this very Maybach. They had opened the sunroof and driven along the suburban roads in the spring.

The Maybach slammed into an unseen wall of rain, the swirling wind battering the car’s body. The water walls pressed in from all sides, the roaring V12 engine reaching maximum power but failing to push the car away.

“Hey! God! Open sesame!” the man roared, throwing the long sword at the eight-legged horse’s head. Gungnir struck again as the man leaped, surrounded by countless golden meteors.

The wall of water weakened for an instant, and the Maybach roared, breaking through and disappearing into the thick night.

Chu Zihang’s mind went blank. He drove mechanically through the rain, unaware of when the car’s sound system turned back on. A daughter and her father sang a duet:

Daughter, dear daughter, I’ve done you no wrong

I have married you to a great lord’s son

And he will be a man for you when I am dead and gone

He’s young but he’s daily growing

Suddenly, Chu Zihang understood the song.

This was what the man wanted to leave for him. It didn’t matter if he was the son or the daughter—the man had sent him into a wealthy family because he had no confidence in his own life. The man hoped that his son would live well, that he would have something to rely on in the future.

This man lived forever in dual identities—only showing his fierce and ruthless side rarely. To most people, he was a man of little ability. But he didn’t dare reveal that fierce side to his son, so he only appeared as a driver, sneaking in to pick his son up from school. That was all he could do. Many times, he parked the Maybach outside the school gate, but when he saw the Mercedes S500 pull in, he would shrink back and leave. He believed his “daughter” had someone to rely on, and then he would leave far away.

“You’ll understand one day.”

Now Chu Zihang did understand. As for the man… the man might already be dead.

What is death?

It is the end, a farewell, something that cannot be reversed—the feeling of a hand you can no longer hold, the warmth you can no longer feel, the “sorry” that can never be said.

Chu Zihang slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched, and the car came to a halt in the rain, parked sideways on the empty elevated road. He opened the sunroof, leaning back in his seat, gasping for breath, looking up at the sky.

It felt like all the rain in the world poured in through that sunroof, the hard, cold rain whipping his face, but he felt neither cold nor pain—only the man’s voice and that song replaying in his mind.

“Start! Start!” he suddenly shouted at the dashboard.

The engine made a weak, powerless sound. This car had reached its limit; it could no longer move.

Chu Zihang kicked open the door and jumped out, running against the wind and rain.

Suddenly, he understood—he was really, truly about to lose that man. Whatever it was the man had left in the world, whatever promises he had made to him, he threw them all away. He had gone mad. He didn’t fear the shadows, Odin, or Gungnir. He had to find that man.

In the heavy rain, a small figure stood on top of the Maybach, watching him leave, her eyes flickering with faint gold. She hummed the Irish ballad, her little dress fluttering like flowers in the wind.

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