Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 175: Girl with Sandalwood Scent (7)

Dragon Raja 3

Caesar felt a little awkward as he enjoyed the luxury shoe-polishing service for a few minutes, his gaze fixed upward at a 45-degree angle, not daring to look down.

“I’m sorry if we’ve caused you any trouble,” Caesar said, feeling slightly embarrassed. “How are things going with… uh, Noda Sho?”

Makoto nodded. “He’s really persistent. He comes to pick me up from work every day, so everyone assumes he’s my boyfriend. Don’t let his quiet demeanor fool you—he’s quite respected around here. With him around, people treat me really well. We’re just pretending to be a couple.”

She suddenly smiled, a smile like a cat’s, and for the first time, Caesar saw a hint of girlish cunning on her otherwise straightforward face.

Caesar suddenly recalled something Chisei once said: the yakuza were just unfortunate people who couldn’t live in the sunlight. If they could earn money respectably, who would choose the criminal life? Guys like Noda Sho, who swaggered around waving a baseball bat, were probably just high school dropouts at heart.

“Sho may not be a big shot like you, Mr. Gattuso, and he always says stupid things about being a man, but he’s a good person, just like you. He really tries to do his best, and he treats me well,” Makoto said.

“Though it’s a bit surprising,” Caesar paused, “it’s nice to run into a familiar face here.”

“Don’t worry, I know how to conduct myself. Even though my family is poor, I’ll work hard to live a good life,” Makoto said as she tied Caesar’s shoelaces.

Caesar felt a small stir in his heart, suddenly understanding why Makoto had been talking with him for so long. She was indirectly explaining that she wasn’t doing anything shameful—she was just poor, and being poor was not a crime. When Caesar had backed away earlier, she must have felt a sharp sting of sadness.

For once, Caesar felt like he had done something foolish.

“Are the laces too tight?” Makoto asked.

“No, they’re perfect—just right. Could you do me a favor?”

“Yes! Anything I can do!” Makoto nodded enthusiastically.

“I came to Chizuru Town looking for a manga internet café. There’s a box there that’s very important to me. Do you know if there’s another café nearby?”

“Ah! You’re not mistaken—this is the place!”

“Oh, I mean one of those smaller, more hidden places where you can read manga and surf the internet. It wouldn’t be as fancy as this place…”

“This is definitely the place. The manga café you’re looking for used to be in this building, but it closed down a few years ago. The storefront was sold to Mambo, and they replaced all the staff. I don’t know if the box you’re looking for is still here.”

“Damn it! The Execution Bureau’s manual is outdated…” Caesar’s face darkened. After all the effort of traveling here, he realized that the safe haven had been decommissioned long ago. Had he known, he might have just found any random internet café to contact the college.

“There’s one more thing I need to ask of you,” Caesar said. “I’m actually not from the main family. I’m just here on a work trip. The main family is collaborating with our college. It’s complicated, but please, don’t mention to anyone that you’ve seen me…”

“I understand!” Makoto nodded vigorously. “I’ll keep it secret, not even telling Sho! I saw your wanted poster on TV, by the way. The police are after you. There was a drawing of your face, and it was quite accurate.”

“Oh, the wanted notice made it to TV? Looks like I’m ranking pretty high among Japan’s most wanted terrorists,” Caesar muttered.

“That’s why coming to an internet café like this is dangerous for you,” Makoto replied softly. “Most public places, including convenience stores, have surveillance cameras at their entrances. Every guest who enters here is recorded. You were just… well, you didn’t look like your usual self, so the manager didn’t recognize you.”

Caesar thought, Scruffy, huh? Well, of course I look scruffy! I’ve been riding a motorcycle all day, and my jeans are worn out to the point my butt hurts! On the wanted poster, I’m sure I look dignified and well-dressed, which isn’t often untrue for me in real life.

“You agreed to help me so quickly? Aren’t you afraid I might actually be the dangerous criminal they say I am on the wanted notice?” Caesar asked curiously. His life had never lacked women fawning over him, and he had always gladly accepted their adoration. Anywhere outside of Japan, flattering the young master of the Gattuso family was a wise choice, as the Gattuso family always had Caesar’s back. But here in Japan, he was nothing but a wanted fugitive with no support.

Makoto hesitated for a moment. “Regardless, I believe you’re a kind person.”

Caesar had heard all sorts of compliments in his life, but rarely had anyone called him “kind.” Before Makoto, there was only one other person who had ever praised his kindness—that was his late mother.

Caesar had been a rebellious child, practically a scourge upon the Gattuso family. Despite being designated as the family’s heir at a young age, even the elders who cherished him were often at their wits’ end—he was simply too unruly and stubborn. Once, when the Italian ambassador to the United States visited the family, Caesar sneaked into the kitchen and put a fresh fish gallbladder in the ambassador’s salad. The ambassador’s face turned as green as the bile in the gallbladder when he bit into it. This was Caesar’s revenge for the ambassador requesting to eat the lamb Caesar adored, and Caesar was only seven years old at the time.

At a grand masquerade ball hosted by the family at their countryside villa, while men and women swayed in each other’s arms, Caesar suddenly switched the music to terrifying ghostly wails, causing the ladies in high heels to trip and fall, scattering their foam breast pads everywhere. He had done this because he didn’t like the noise disturbing his sleep.

But the worst was his revenge on Pompeii, his father. One day, Pompeii brought home a glamorous movie star and rushed her into the bedroom, pulling the covers over their heads in the dark as they undressed. Suddenly, they saw glowing green letters on the wall: “Women who have slept in this room before include…” followed by a list of famous socialites’ names. The last sentence read, “Caesar Gattuso (yes, I’m this guy’s son) invites you to sign this piece for posterity. The marker is in the nightstand.”

Pompeii switched on the lights and saw the writing had been scrawled on his favorite painting—an original Renoir he had paid a fortune for. The furious movie star threw her underwear at Pompeii and stormed out, shouting, “How could you have been with that filthy woman?” Pompeii frantically searched for the culprit and finally found Caesar in the storage room. They locked eyes, and Caesar’s small face bore a stubborn, unyielding expression. Pompeii roared, “You need to respect the facts! Out of that list of names, I’ve only slept with six of them!” Caesar coldly replied, “What’s the difference? You’ll sleep with them eventually.”

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