Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 166: Lord of Blackstone (3)

Dragon Raja 3

Suddenly, Mai moved. She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at the sky.

“Say your name!” Su Enxi tightened her grip on the trigger. She had no idea who had just woken up—those amber-gold eyes were terrifying.

“Mai,” she whispered.

“Say more, the more, the better. Tell me the name of one of your ex-boyfriends or something!” Su Enxi still wasn’t convinced.

“Didn’t I just tell you a bunch of names earlier?” Mai smiled weakly.

“Say something random, then. Like, what were you wearing when we went to see those musclemen strip in Las Vegas?” Su Enxi pressed.

Mai gave a helpless smile. “I wasn’t paying attention to what I wore since I looked way better than you that night. In the end, they asked me to go on stage and touch their pecs.”

“Yup, it’s definitely you, you wicked girl.” Su Enxi, exhausted, collapsed backward into the hot spring.

Mai curled up on the green stone, pale and small like a newborn. Su Enxi ladled water from the spring to wash the blood from her body. The signs of dragon transformation gradually receded over the course of several minutes. Mai’s muscular frame softened again, and her blue scales began to peel off, leaving only a thin trail of small scales along her spine. It would take more time for her to fully recover.

“I didn’t say anything weird while I was out, did I?” Mai asked softly.

“You said plenty of weird things! Based on the list you gave me, I’d say there are enough women in the world who want to kill you to fill the U.S. Army,” Su Enxi scoffed. “Why didn’t you inject the stabilizer?”

“I was injured,” Mai pointed to her now-healed wound. “Without the boost from the ancient dragon serum, I’d be dead. If I had injected the stabilizer, the serum would have stopped working.”

“You were injected with ancient dragon serum. Who could possibly hurt you?”

“Remember Uesugi Erii, the most unremarkable head of the Yamata no Orochi? We never really knew what she was capable of, but her Yanling is Judgement, an ultimate Yanling that imposes a death command on all life in its range. The Yamata no Orochi use her as a powerful weapon against the Death Servitors. She can conjure massive icebergs out of thin air, wiping out at least a few hundred Death Servitors in one blow. I happened to be in her kill zone. I thought my enhanced body could withstand it, but after I got injured, I realized it wasn’t ordinary death. Once you’re wounded by it, the injury won’t heal. The serum enhanced my cell regeneration, but the new cells died just as quickly, and the wound kept reopening. It’s like life was draining out of me through the wound.”

“I didn’t expect the Yamata no Orochi to have such a secret weapon… With monsters like that stepping onto the battlefield, Japan is definitely a ‘hard’ mode battlefield!” Su Enxi remarked.

“And ‘hell’ mode is next,” came a lazy male voice from behind the cherry tree.

Mai and Su Enxi turned their heads sharply, but there was no one under the cherry tree, only a silver ice bucket with a bottle of champagne inside. Mai picked up the champagne and handed it to Su Enxi. It was a 1995 Perrier-Jouët Belle Epoque, someone’s favorite champagne. He had apparently been here but left quickly, leaving behind a faint fragrance, the scent of his usual cologne. By the water, there was also a wooden tray with two kimonos, two pairs of geta sandals, and matching accessories, along with a handwritten note: “I didn’t see anything. I’ll be waiting for you inside. Come find me after you’ve freshened up.”

He had come without a sound, yet left his mark everywhere. The term “boss” suited this person perfectly.

“Looks like it really is ‘Hard’ mode. Even the boss has personally come to Japan,” Su Enxi said, popping open the champagne.

“Maybe he’s got some woman here in Japan. Who knows?” Mai remarked.

“That’s not likely. If he liked Japanese women, he’d probably like you, wouldn’t he? You’re the finest example of one.”

“I’m not the typical Japanese woman. The typical one is the Yamato Nadeshiko—those gentle, short-legged, perfect little wives.”

Soaking in the hot spring while sipping chilled champagne was an incredibly relaxing experience, with fruits and snacks on the side. Su Enxi’s favorite chips were also prepared, the Korean BBQ-flavored ones she loved.

At other places, when the boss shows up, the female employees would rush to freshen up their makeup and greet him warmly. But Mai and Su Enxi were in no rush at all. They continued soaking in the spring, the heat seeping into their bones and relaxing their limbs, casually chatting about whatever came to mind.

This was the boss’s style. When he summoned his assistants, he didn’t act impatient like a petty dictator. He wanted them to meet him in the best possible condition. Sometimes he would even reserve a truffle dinner at a restaurant for an assistant, and after dinner, the assistant would receive a card from the waiter informing them that the meeting room was at the top of the building, where the boss would be waiting patiently. If the assistant enjoyed the dinner and felt refreshed, the boss would be pleased. But woe to the assistant who pushed away the half-eaten meal, rushed upstairs, and shouted, “I’m late! What’s the command?”—this would leave the boss feeling rather disappointed.

At some point, a small charcoal brazier had been lit beside the hot spring, warming towels and white socks. The kimonos the boss sent were authentic furisode, garments made for young women before marriage, tailored stitch by stitch to the wearer’s measurements. Su Enxi’s was a pale blue with “Yae Sakura” (double-flowered cherry blossoms), and Mai’s was black with “Maple Moon” motifs.

“How does he know our sizes so well? Are we sure the boss hasn’t been spying on us?” Su Enxi asked, tying her obi.

“If that were the case, it wouldn’t be so bad. What’s scarier is if the boss is a complete pervert,” Mai replied.

“He’s definitely a pervert already, but if he’s also a perverted maniac, that’d be terrifying.”

They styled each other’s hair, pinning gold-gilded wooden combs into their long locks, making themselves look like girls from the Edo period. Then, with their geta clattering, they walked along the petal-strewn path toward the main house.

Su Enxi opened the door, and the hall stretched out endlessly.

The Blackstone Mansion’s reception hall was that grand—once used by a shogun for meetings. Countless crimson pillars lined the room, and the ebony floor, polished countless times, gleamed like a mirror. Beams of sunlight pierced through the wooden lattice windows, with dust swirling in the light.

Series Navigation

<< Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 165: Lord of Blackstone (2)Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 167: Lord of Blackstone (4) >>