Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 220: Men’s Flower Arrangement (3)

Dragon Raja 3

The giant butt glanced down at Lu Mingfei and moved aside to let him pass. Only after stepping back a couple of paces did Lu Mingfei see clearly: it was a man almost two meters tall, weighing at least 200 kilos, wearing a custom pair of high heels and a skin-tight mini-skirt with a waistline exceeding 1.5 meters. Every movement caused his rolls of flesh to quiver like waves. “Meat Mountain King” was probably the only appropriate title for him.

“Good evening, Senior, thank you for your hard work.” Lu Mingfei bowed, and Caesar, seemingly quite respectful of this hefty man, bowed as well before dragging Lu Mingfei away.

The man resumed his passionate dance, his wobbling flesh oozing a suggestive allure. Yet, his face was stern and commanding, resembling the fearsome Vajra statues in Buddhist temples.

The atmosphere in the dance floor was even more indulgent, and everyone appeared intoxicated. Drunken women clung to equally drunk men, pouring champagne down their partners’ collars. The lead dancer ripped off his shirt amidst cheers, revealing a chiseled chest. Waiters carrying trays of silver powder wove through the crowd, and the women eagerly dipped their fingers in the powder to leave silvery handprints on the men’s chests and backs. The main lights dimmed, and under the glow of black lights, the overlapping silver handprints on the dancers’ bodies resembled tattoos.

“Basara King!” A woman in a little black dress suddenly jumped up from a booth by the dance floor, staggering on her feet. She swayed over to Caesar and kissed him on the cheek.

Caesar took the champagne she offered and downed it in one gulp before waving her off.

“Boss, everyone here seems really familiar with you. Is this a high-end club owned by your family in Japan?” Lu Mingfei asked, feeling something was off.

Surrounding the dance floor were circular booths filled with elegantly dressed women, each clinging to a spirited man, laughing and drinking. The men were polite, occasionally whispering into the women’s ears. Some women giggled and playfully punched their partners’ chests, while others laughed loudly and pretended to slap them. The champagne bottles on the tables emptied quickly, and the waiters bustled back and forth as women threw their credit cards at them, seemingly to order more drinks.

Suddenly, Lu Mingfei realized what felt wrong. Only women were paying the bills here. The charming gentlemen had no intention of pulling out their wallets.

“You’ll understand if you watch a bit longer,” Caesar said, pulling Lu Mingfei into the shadows behind a curtain.

The samba music ended, replaced by a solemn ancient melody—perhaps played on a flute or a xun. The music instantly transported the mood from a modern metropolis back to ancient Japan, as if standing on a lonely bridge in autumn winds. The curtains lifted, and the stage slowly rose, revealing a lone figure. The lights dimmed, leaving only a single beam illuminating the man. He was dressed in white with a blue hakama, his long hair covering half his face. A wind machine blew cherry blossom petals towards him, his wide sleeves billowing in the breeze, revealing muscular forearms.

The man took off his white robe and tied the sleeves around his waist, exposing his bare chest, which rose and fell with his breathing. He drew his sword with movements that carried a poetic elegance.

The crowd erupted in applause. The man danced with the sword, every move precise and deliberate. It wasn’t just for show; this was actual combat swordsmanship. Though such techniques weren’t usually for display, women in the crowd screamed with excitement, more for the man’s muscles than his sword skills. Although his muscles weren’t as massive as Caesar’s, his lean and strong physique had a sinewy beauty, like the joints of bamboo, perfectly embodying the lonely beauty of a young warrior.

Lu Mingfei had seen this man shirtless more than once but never thought he could look so… seductive.

“Boss, do you think I still have a chance to go back to my original world?” Lu Mingfei turned his head and asked Caesar earnestly.

“Better to accept reality. Yes, that’s Chu Zihang,” Caesar patted his shoulder.

A masked waiter pushed a two-meter-long board onto the stage, covered in ice. On the ice lay an entire tuna. With graceful precision, Chu Zihang sliced through the fish like a master chef, separating the dark red back meat and the pink belly meat into perfect cubes. He sorted each part carefully, wrapped them in paper, and placed them into different wooden compartments. The belly meat, marbled pink like fine marble, was the star piece. A waiter lifted the precious cut of fish and carried it around the stage for everyone to admire.

The women all started clapping, not necessarily because this tuna had some unparalleled qualities, but because it had been beautifully disassembled by Chu Zihang’s masterful knife skills, transforming it into art. Especially since Chu Zihang was shirtless while wielding the knife—when a woman undresses, it might be considered erotic, but when a man undresses, it’s considered art. When a piece of sashimi is both artistic and sensual, how can anyone refuse it? It’s like how a cigar enthusiast can’t resist the finest cigars rolled on the thighs of young Cuban women.

Before Chu Zihang’s performance was even over, guests were already placing orders for the sashimi he had sliced. The most expensive and fattest piece of belly meat was sold through an auction. The bids kept climbing, and in the end, the rectangular piece of fish was sold for a high price of 700,000 yen. The woman who won the auction stood up and proudly accepted the applause from the entire audience.

According to the customers’ requests, Chu Zihang sliced the various parts of the fish into pieces of appropriate thickness. The waiters plated them, pairing them with freshly grated wasabi, and named the sets as Pine, Bamboo, or Plum. The Pine set was priced at 30,000 yen, the Bamboo set at 60,000 yen, and the most expensive Plum set was sold for a high price of 90,000 yen.

The sashimi was brought to each table in a stream, and the women who tasted it all displayed expressions of pure bliss, nodding frequently and praising it. Perhaps even the chef who created “Life Like Summer Flowers” had never received such unanimous acclaim.

A drunken woman, excited beyond measure after eating the sashimi, suddenly rushed to the stage and poured champagne all over Chu Zihang. This act ignited the enthusiasm of all the women. Watching the liquor flow down the crevices between his chest muscles, the women raised their glasses and cheered for her brave action.

“Ukyo! Ukyo!” The crowd roared.

“Who are they calling Ukyo?” Lu Mingfei asked cautiously.

“It’s Chu Zihang’s stage name,” Caesar said nonchalantly.

“And Basara King?”

“Translated to Chinese, it means ‘King of Vasara’ the name of my flower .”

“And this place is?”

“Takamagahara Night Club, the most famous host club in the Shinjuku district. What you just saw was the debut performance of the new host, Chu Zihang. The act was called ‘Sashimi Bushido.’”

“Is this the kind of host I’m thinking of?” Lu Mingfei forced himself to stay calm.

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