Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 230: Men’s Flower Arrangement (13)

Dragon Raja 3

“That doesn’t sound good at all. It feels like Caesar’s already got a dozen ‘sacrificial character’ flags stuck in him,” Su Enxi said. “So what about Chu Zihang? What flower is he?”

“A chrysanthemum.”

Su Enxi spit out her wine through her nose, looking like she was bleeding profusely.

“Boss, are you alright?” Humpback Whale quickly asked. “Is the wine not to your liking?”

Mai casually handed Su Enxi a napkin and said, “Don’t worry, she’s just overexcited. That’s how shut-ins are sometimes.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Su Enxi said, covering her nose with the napkin. “Go on, continue.”

“He is a cornflower in the snow.”

“Germany’s national flower?”

“Yes, it’s a pale chrysanthemum, fond of cold weather, and possesses an unparalleled resilience—it can even bloom amidst ice and snow. Its symbolic meaning is loyalty, longing, elegance, solitude, encounter, and rebirth,” Humpback Whale explained. “From Ukyo, I can smell the fragrance of the cornflower.”

“I’m getting this image of a strong S&M cornflower whipping its clients, coldly saying, ‘So, is that it for tonight? Why not go home and cry yourself to sleep?’” Su Enxi joked. “Come on, stop being ridiculous! What part of his answer made you think he’s some quiet, elegant guy waiting for an encounter and rebirth? What you heard was a technical manual on how to extract more money from women!”

Humpback Whale stepped outside and sat on the stairs, lighting a cigar. For a moment, he was filled with both sorrow and joy.

Just days ago, he had been the owner of this nightclub, the most prestigious figure in Tokyo’s host industry, but now he had been reduced to managing the place for others—because he had gone bankrupt.

Although the hosts at Takamagahara were the most popular and the fees the highest, the costs were just as astronomical. This four-story building had been a Catholic church built by the French in Tokyo before World War II, and Takamagahara had been leasing it for decades, with annual rent prices so exorbitant they were practically unthinkable. The space, which could have been turned into a luxury department store, was instead used as a host club. But Humpback Whale had always believed the high rent was worth it—his clients were Tokyo’s most elite socialites, and they deserved a palace-like setting.

He had spared no expense on the furnishings either—Italian sofas, Venetian crystal glassware, German silverware, even the paintings on the walls were originals.

He had also served as the chairman of the Tokyo Men’s Service Industry Association, donating generously every year. He was known as the philanthropist of the host world, and his nickname, Humpback Whale, was not because of his domineering nature, but because, like Whale, his bald head was entirely hairless.

However, running a host club alone was not enough to cover the massive expenses, and his accounts had slowly drained dry until he had no choice but to borrow heavily to stay afloat. Last week, Humpback Whale held a meeting with the hosts to discuss layoffs, tearfully lamenting that the beautiful era of the cherry blossom had passed. Their prime had faded, and women now only fawned over TV celebrities. They no longer appreciated the elegant, classical beauty of the male hosts. At this emotional moment, he broke down in tears at the table.

But just three days ago, everything changed when two women walked into Takamagahara. It was a sunny afternoon, and the sound of their heels on the floor had startled Humpback Whale, who had been in the accounting room, head buried in numbers. The sound was unnerving, like a storm approaching. He thought it was the loan sharks coming to collect, so he tucked a short knife under his suit jacket and braced himself as he stepped out of the room.

The girl named Su Enxi handed him a blank check. “I know you’ve gone bankrupt. Now I’m giving you a chance. Write down a number. If it’s a figure I’m satisfied with, I’ll buy your club.”

Humpback Whale had never heard of such a brazenly predatory offer, so cold and direct, as if telling him he was a lamb ready for slaughter, with no way to refuse.

After much consideration, Humpback Whale decided not to overprice and carefully filled in what he thought was a reasonable amount on the check, then handed it back to Su Enxi. She glanced at it, added another zero, and handed it back to him. The girl named Mai smiled and remarked that he was quite honest. These two mysterious women spent 12 billion yen to buy this nearly bankrupt nightclub without batting an eye—an amount that could have easily bought them a soccer team in Europe.

That same evening, the loan sharks came knocking at the door. Humpback Whale sat atop a chest of cash, waiting for them. Outside, an armored bank truck was parked in front of Takamagahara, and the gangsters were so shocked by the sight that they backed off. They had come to seize valuable assets from the club to cover the debt.

“My heart hasn’t died, and so my flower path remains,” Humpback Whale said coldly, lighting a cigar and waving his hand dismissively with an air of grandeur. The 120-kilogram Fujiwara Kansuke stood up, grabbed two boxes of cash, and saw the gangsters off, sending them scrambling in panic.

By that afternoon, Humpback Whale’s reputation in Shinjuku had risen another notch. Hosts from the association came to celebrate and curiously asked where he had gotten such a large sum of money. Humpback Whale gave an impromptu speech about how “as long as the roots remain in the soil of love, the flowers will bloom again,” then swiftly dismissed the crowd with vague remarks.

The new owners had requested that the transaction remain confidential, and Humpback Whale wisely refrained from investigating their backgrounds. Even if he tried, he wouldn’t have uncovered anything—people capable of spending such vast amounts of cash could easily conceal their identities if they wished.

Still, not investigating didn’t stop him from speculating. He was deeply curious as to why these two young women had bought a host club. The one named Su Enxi was evidently a financial expert—after just a few minutes of mental calculation, she accurately stated the club’s losses, figures that matched the expensive accountants Humpback Whale had hired. It was clear that she knew exactly whether the price she was paying for Takamagahara was worth it. So why would they buy it? Looking at the natural authority that radiated from Su Enxi and Mai, as well as their ages, Humpback Whale guessed they must have come from prestigious families. But what kind of wealthy girls would buy a host club?

The only logical answer was the yakuza! They must be heiresses of a yakuza family, using vast sums of money to take over the host industry.

Among the various industries in Shinjuku, host clubs were one of the few areas in which the yakuza had little involvement. Nightclubs with female escorts not only had to pay protection fees but also allow the yakuza to buy shares, occasionally offering their top girls to serve as playthings for the bosses. But in nightclubs with male hosts, the yakuza had so far only collected protection fees—they hadn’t taken a direct interest in the hosts. However, what if the yakuza heirs were women? To them, a host club would be like a ready-made harem, just as modeling agencies were often the harems of yakuza bosses.

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