Dragon Raja 2; Chapter 163: The Tragic Stage (7)

Dragon Raja 2

“Come on, brother. I don’t mind giving a little more to a customer. Let me help you clean up the street. How did all this trash end up here anyway? It should be emptier, just like your empty heart.” Lu Mingze rushed over, grinning savagely, grabbing Lu Mingfei by the collar. “Here’s a trial version—just like the full version, but the full version is a hundred times more powerful! Something for nothing… 1%… fusion!” He suddenly opened his arms, lunging at Lu Mingfei.

Lu Mingfei instinctively caught him, because at that moment, Lu Mingze’s ferocious little face looked just like that of a helpless… child.

Countless images flashed before his eyes, like an old movie or memories of forgotten times. He had once hugged this devil in the rain for warmth. He had also seen, with his own eyes, this devil being bound to a cross in a dark cathedral, a spear piercing his heart, stained with blood. The devil looked up at Lu Mingfei and said, “Brother, you’ve come to see me after all…” The ocean of memories overwhelmed him.

Lu Mingfei slowly climbed up from the ground, dusting off the mud and straightening his nonexistent collar. He was wearing a crumpled crew-neck shirt, but the way he straightened his clothes made it look like he was trying on a new suit in a high-end tailor shop in London. The thugs were all taken aback, instinctively taking a step back.

“I hate it when people take away what’s mine. Whatever I’ve lost, I want to take back with my own hands,” Lu Mingfei said softly.

“Remember whose line that was?” He looked up at the thugs, smiling. “It’s from a really old movie. How about a riddle? ‘A steamed bun soaking in congee.’ Who can solve it? There’s a prize, kids!”

The thugs looked at each other in fear. This loser seemed to have suddenly changed, and now every smile, every look of his was as sharp as a blade.

“Can’t guess? No one can guess it? Then there’s no prize.” He laughed maniacally. “It’s actually really simple—‘Chow Yun-Fat.’ It’s a line from ‘A Better Tomorrow.’ It’s an old movie, but the line is great! Whatever I’ve lost…” He shot forward like a cannonball, crashing into the lead thug, elbowing his cheek. As the thug was knocked back, Lu Mingfei leaped up, slamming his knee into his chin, knocking out one of his teeth.

“I want to take it back with my own hands…” He grabbed the second thug’s forearm, striking his shoulder into the back of his elbow joint, dislocating the arm. He then kicked the screaming thug away.

“One by one…” Lu Mingfei grabbed the third thug by the hair with one hand and punched him hard in the abdomen with the other. The thug spat out a mouthful of blood.

“Take it back.” He smiled, gently hugging the terrified leader who had wet himself. He took the folding knife from the leader’s trembling hand, put it away in his pocket, adjusted the leader’s collar, and patted his shoulders. “Do you know why I treated you differently than the others? Because you just said ‘Hadouken.’ I like playing ‘Street Fighter’ too. The Shoryuken is awesome! I can’t be rude to someone who likes ‘Street Fighter’ as much as I do—I can only discuss the game with them. Do you know who my favorite character is? It’s Zangief, the Russian brute. His ‘Spinning Piledriver’ move is just the coolest. We used to call it… the ‘Lotus Big Sit’!”

“Ora ora ora ora!” He laughed wildly, grabbing the leader’s collar with one hand, leaping into the air like a rocket. No human should have such incredible jumping power—he rose as high as the second floor, then twisted in midair, locking his legs around the leader’s waist. As they spun violently downward, Lu Mingfei’s knees slammed into the leader’s shoulders, driving him hard into the ground. The faint sound of bones breaking brought a smile to Lu Mingfei’s face.

He laughed loudly in the rain, dancing an elegant tap dance.

He cried, he sang—he was a devil, a god, an unmatched performer, a master of tragedy and passion—he was Lu Mingze.

His dance suddenly paused in an awkward pose, like a wind-up tin robot that had run out of power.

Lu Mingfei suddenly came back to his senses, frantically looking around, shivering violently. Shards of glass were scattered everywhere, and the four thugs lay on the ground, bones broken, groaning in pain. The leader was in the worst condition—the pavement beneath him was shattered. In just a moment of distraction, the little devil had taken control of his body and finished off the four thugs. The violent scenes in his mind were so vivid—he could even perceive the raindrops falling more slowly, hear the sound of his fist splitting the raindrops, the sound of his fists pounding into their bodies, rearranging their organs, the cracking sound as his knee shattered the thug’s teeth. What was going on? Those sounds filled him with an odd sense of satisfaction. The blood splattering from the thugs as they were struck—it looked beautiful to him. The moment he slammed the leader to the ground, he felt an overwhelming sense of exhilaration. He thought he could crush that person… completely.

Was this the so-called “savage heart”? The dragon heart he thought he didn’t have?

Lu Mingze stood beside him, blowing on his bloodstained fingers, and the crimson blood scattered, merging into the rain. He did it with a faint smile, like a boy blowing soap bubbles.

“Was… was that you?” Lu Mingfei trembled.

“No, it was you. I just gave you a little power,” the little devil said, licking his fingers. This childlike action looked like licking a blood-soaked blade.

“You… you’re insane! You’re a complete madman!” Lu Mingfei took a step back. Lu Mingze’s smile grew more blurred in his eyes, yet more sinister. This little guy was supposed to be just a cunning little devil, but now, standing drenched in the rain, his wet hair covering his eyes, he looked like a lost child, as though an ancient demon had awakened inside him.

“Where are you going, brother? Didn’t you say we’d leave together?” Lu Mingze tilted his head, looking at him.

“Get lost! Don’t follow me!” Lu Mingfei shouted in fear and anger, turning and running into the rain.

He didn’t know why he was running. Maybe he was afraid of the police coming after him, or maybe he was a little squeamish about the blood. But it felt more like he was trying to escape some memory that was chasing him. He had already been caught by loneliness once today—he couldn’t let something even worse catch up to him. Yes, Lu Mingze wasn’t wrong—the one who had beaten up those thugs wasn’t Lu Mingze, it was Lu Mingfei himself. At that time, he was conscious. That line from “A Better Tomorrow” was his favorite; it had thrilled him when he watched it, and he longed for the day he could say it to someone.

“Brother! You’ll definitely come back to find me! You’ve already been caught!” Lu Mingze didn’t chase him, but shouted after him, standing in the rain.

As Lu Mingfei kept running, there were more and more people on the street, as if he had run from a dream into reality. It all felt like a game, the scenes seamlessly connected, no need for loading screens. But Lu Mingfei kept running, as if something was still chasing him. People on the street turned their heads curiously to look at the filthy boy running with a nosebleed, wondering what had driven him mad. Around the corner, a girl in a white dress was barefoot, crying and talking to a patrol officer—not Chen Wenwen, but the girl who had arrived before her, who had flirted coyly with Lu Mingfei.

But at that moment, what he saw was Chen Wenwen glancing back at him, then running into the boundless rain without looking back, followed by countless feet stomping on his face and body.

It was all a blur now, and Lu Mingfei didn’t want to think about it anymore. He just wanted to leave this place, not walk alone in the rain, but find somewhere warm to take a shower and have something hot to drink.

They were staying at the Regent Hotel, just one subway stop away.

He didn’t stop running until he reached the subway tunnel, because he could no longer see the path ahead. Blue mist was flooding toward him like a tide, and he couldn’t see anyone in front or behind him.

He shivered slowly and forcefully, as if a devil’s hand had gripped his throat.

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