Dragon Raja 2; Chapter 162: The Tragic Stage (6)

Dragon Raja 2

Lu Mingfei had never been in a group fight and had no idea what these seemingly casual pushes meant. He backed away step by step until he was against the wall, and then he understood—he was surrounded, with no way out. Those pushes were a tactic to force him into a spot where they could attack. The leader raised his eyebrow, throwing an uppercut that struck his abdomen, chest, and chin. It was a well-practiced uppercut, and Lu Mingfei tasted blood in his mouth as pain shot through him, causing him to collapse against the wall.

“HADOUKEN!” The leader, clearly a gamer, shouted gleefully, waving his fist in the air, showing off to his friends.

At that moment, Chen Wenwen, who had been sobbing, suddenly raised her leg and stomped on her captor’s foot with her heel. While he jumped around in pain, she kicked off her high heels and ran for her life.

Lu Mingfei managed to open his eyes, just in time to see Chen Wenwen turning back. He nodded at her—a habit, as he always nodded whenever Chen Wenwen looked at him. She turned away and never looked back again. Lu Mingfei was dumbfounded. She really was from the track team—she could run fast.

“Don’t chase her! There are cops that way!” the leader quickly shouted.

“Damn it! This idiot jumped in and ruined everything! I bet he doesn’t even know her. He just saw that she looked good and wanted to play the hero.” The thug who had his foot stomped came over, furious. “She looked like she had money too, damn it! He ruined it all!” He stomped on Lu Mingfei’s face.

Lu Mingfei covered his head with his hands, unable to count how many kicks landed on him. He hadn’t taken any combat training, so all he could do was curl up into a ball. He felt like he was about to throw up, his organs twisted and his head spinning. Suddenly, he remembered some movie where a hero got beaten up badly without moving, only to catch his attacker’s foot with a wrist twist and quietly say, “I hate it when people step on my face.”

Cool line, Lu Mingfei thought. He wanted to say it, too. He really did hate people stepping on his face, even if it wasn’t a face he could make a living with.

But what was the point in saying it? Even if he said it, he’d still just have to keep curling up and counting how many kicks he took.

The thugs eventually got tired of kicking him and hadn’t decided how to deal with him. The leader stopped and lit a cigarette.

Lu Mingfei struggled to lift himself up, leaning against the wall. When he looked up, he saw Lu Mingze standing alongside the thugs, looking at him indifferently, like a passerby who had just gotten off work.

“I knew you wouldn’t trade a quarter of your life for something like this. You’re not the kind of person who cares about pride. Getting beaten up isn’t going to kill you, and you’re playing the hero after all—you must feel satisfied inside,” Lu Mingze said with a casual shrug. “So, I waited until they were done with you before heading off together.”

Lu Mingfei gave a tired smile and weakly said, “Screw you.”

“But what do you expect me to do, always do good deeds? That doesn’t fit my identity.” Lu Mingze turned around, looking at the city in the light rain. “The night view is beautiful. It could use a little more light.”

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers crisply. From west to east, both sides of the long street lit up—street lamps, windows, neon lights in front of the shops, all glowing brilliantly. Only then did Lu Mingfei realize that there wasn’t a single person on the long street—most likely, Lu Mingze had made them disappear somehow. It was a quiet city without any traffic, with lights hazy in the rain, and large leaves swirling in the air. It was beautiful, yet distant, like a fairytale castle where even the flames slept.

Lu Mingfei’s eyes lit up at the sight of the lights, but just as he looked up, a thug casually slapped him across the face.

“Looking at the city under this night sky, don’t you feel lonely? Notice how empty the streets are? Actually, the people are there—look, brother. There are tall buildings on both sides, and each of those buildings has many windows. Every window with a light has someone inside. A man with the woman who loves him, a woman with the man who loves her—they love each other, brother! They’re hugging and kissing in warm rooms, brother! And you? You’re walking in the cold rain, with nowhere to go. You’re a true loser.” Lu Mingze spoke faster and faster. “Do you remember ‘The Little Match Girl’? She leaned against the window, staring at the roast chicken inside, drooling in her hunger. But all she had were matches—she could only light them for warmth. Each match was a fantasy—one was roast chicken, one was a toy, one was her mother… And the next morning, she was dead, frozen stiff.”

He suddenly slowed down, shrugging. “But you don’t even have a match. Is your life your match? You have four matches, and you’ve already used one. Why not do something straightforward and indulge in my business—burn up the remaining three matches and warm yourself up. Then I’ll take your soul to Hell. Hell’s very comfortable, you know. The bad guys all soak in magma together, telling dark jokes.”

“My dear brother… don’t be stupid, okay? How could someone as foolish as you exist in this world? Who lives alone, without feeling lonely?” Lu Mingze laughed, shaking his head, his face filled with a mix of pity and frustration at Lu Mingfei’s lack of willpower.

“Lu Mingfei, the reason you don’t feel hopeless is that someone doesn’t dare let you be hopeless, always sparingly giving you a little hope. The moment you lose all hope, you will completely change,” he continued with the eloquence of an excellent orator. “But one day, you will despair, because you have nothing. You are useless, redundant, and no one truly needs you. You’re a joke, and you’ve never once escaped the ‘Blood Sorrow.’ Yet you can’t even perceive it. You don’t feel lonely? Hahaha,” he suddenly burst out in laughter, turning and pointing at Lu Mingfei’s nose, “That’s the funniest joke I’ve ever heard!”

“The love they give you is like rice given to you out of pity from their bowl.” His voice was hoarse and cold.

Suddenly, he jumped to the center of the long street, stomping frantically in the puddles, like a madman.

“The only one who truly loves you is the devil! Only me, this devil! Hey! Brother! Why not embrace me? Why not embrace the only person in this world who needs you?” Lu Mingze stretched his arms wide, roaring hoarsely in the rain, a smile on his face. At that moment, he was the most absorbed actor in the world, performing the greatest tragedy of all. The sorrows of the world fused into his frenzied monologue, and behind him stood figures of Cio-Cio San, King Lear, Medea, and Oedipus. He looked at Lu Mingfei, yet it was as if he was questioning the entire world.

Lu Mingfei stared blankly at him. Wasn’t this guy always standing confidently behind the scenes, always in control? This was a unique character, ignoring all the rules and existing above all else. Someone like that had no need to feel sorrow.

Yes, he suddenly understood—the saddest person here wasn’t himself; it was Lu Mingze. On this quiet, rainy evening, this little devil had appeared, not to comfort the disheartened him, but because of the overwhelming sorrow he needed to express.

Had Lu Mingze been heartbroken? Could a devil fall in love? Was he even old enough to be heartbroken?

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