Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 232: Sakura and Red Lotus (1)

Dragon Raja 3

The crimson pavilion was engulfed in flames as Sakurai Kogure sat upstairs, carefully grooming herself.

She donned her cherished jūnihitoe, a formal ceremonial kimono consisting of twelve layers of silk garments. Each layer varied in color, resembling a sky filled with clouds. In the Elysium Hall, only Sakurai Kogure, known as the “Madam,” was allowed to wear the jūnihitoe, and only on special occasions. All the girls would wear their kimonos, gathering around Sakurai Kogure at the entrance to welcome guests, a vibrant display akin to blooming cherry blossoms. The regulars would visit just to witness her beauty in the jūnihitoe and would gamble extravagantly. The luckiest guest of the night would be personally served by Sakurai Kogure, enjoying the finest sashimi, accompanied by her playing the shamisen. Those who experienced this said it felt like being transported back to the Sengoku era, sitting in a castle keep, gazing down upon the world, and being in the company of the most beautiful woman.

Sakurai Kogure pinned her jet-black hair up, adorning it with a wild peach blossom, then bowed slightly to her reflection in the mirror, saying, “Welcome.”

In her years of managing Elysium Hall, she often greeted guests at the door, bowing and saying “welcome” to each regular. After repeating it hundreds of times, it inevitably became tiresome. But today, as she said it, her heart was unexpectedly light. It would likely be the last time she would say it—she had been exhausted for far too long, and it was time to let go of the heavy burden.

Today was the Elysium Hall’s last day.

The attack had begun fifteen minutes earlier. The Yamata no Orochi clan had gathered twelve oil tankers, pouring tens of tons of fuel down the hillside. The man leading the assault was in no hurry to ignite the flames. Instead, he sat atop the hill, smoking, the wind billowing his long coat. From gamblers to dealers, everyone was fleeing, even the guards. Elysium Hall’s supposedly impenetrable defenses crumbled in an instant. Everyone knew that the moment the man on the hill flicked his cigarette, the entire place would be consumed by a raging fire.

But the man merely smoked, quietly watching people wade through the stream as they fled. Countless luxury cars were jammed on the bridge, the honking of horns blending into a cacophony.

Sakurai Kogure tossed the key to the vault to the floor manager. “There’s twelve billion yen in the vault. If you have the guts, take some. You’ve all worked hard over the years.”

The floor manager gripped the key in stunned silence, unsure whether to rush to the vault or flee with the others. Few people can resist the temptation of twelve billion yen, but he wasn’t sure if he would survive taking it. The ground was littered with ten-thousand-yen bills, yet no one bent down to pick them up. The fuel flowed along the ground, people slipping and getting up again, crowding the door and trampling over one another.

Sakurai Kogure smiled faintly and turned to head to the top floor, walking with the same graceful steps she had taken on the casino’s opening day when she descended the staircase. With men’s eyes full of scrutiny, she had lifted her long gown and curtsied elegantly, saying, “I am Sakurai Kogure, the manager of this casino, and every guest from afar is my honored guest.” Moments later, applause thundered, and the gamblers praised her unmatched beauty, her youthful face glowing under the lights like a peach blossom.

The floor manager watched her figure disappear up the stairs. He threw down the key, worth twelve billion yen, and fled.

Sparks erupted in the stairwell. Even though the man on the hill hadn’t ignited the fire yet, the basement had already caught fire. That was where Elysium Hall fulfilled the dreams of its guests, a place with many small rooms, each hiding secrets. Some of those rooms had bloodstained floors. The Elysium Hall’s “paradise” was hidden in a hellish underground. It was a cruel joke the man had played on his guests—he never believed in true paradise, only death. Paradise, in his view, was merely the desperate pursuit of pleasure before death.

At that moment, Sakurai Kogure’s most trusted subordinate was striding through the basement, tossing matches into each room. Gasoline had already been pumped into the rooms, and with each step he took, the hot wind and flames swept through everything.

Sakurai Kogure smiled again, feeling a sudden urge to have a conversation with the man stationed on the hill. She had always imagined this casino’s downfall during its most glorious days. It had accumulated all the world’s desires, buried deep in the basement. On the final day, it was only fitting that it be reduced to ashes by the fire of the red lotus. This was the inevitable end for this so-called paradise.

And indeed, it was being burned down. Everyone was in agreement.

Five days earlier, the apocalypse had descended upon the Oni Clan.

Five days ago, they still controlled eleven out of the eighteen yakuza gangs in Osaka, while seven remained loyal to the Yamata no Orochi clan. These seven had maintained restraint, but overnight, everything changed. The gates of Genji Heavy Industries opened, and black vans rolled out one after another. The top leaders of the Yamata no Orochi clan mobilized entirely. As soon as they arrived in Osaka, those seven gangs launched attacks against the Oni Clan’s factions.

The efficiency of this yakuza war was unprecedented, comparable to Hitler’s blitzkrieg in Poland. The Oni Clan’s gangs were shattered one after another before they could even organize a defense. Seven of the eleven Oni Clan factions declared their loyalty to the Yamata no Orochi clan. Three wakagashira were beaten to death with baseball bats, and the last faction declared its disbandment. In a single night, Osaka had become the domain of the Yamata no Orochi clan.

It wasn’t just Osaka. From the south to the north, gangs loyal to the Yamata no Orochi clan launched a relentless offensive against the Oni Clan’s factions. The choice was simple: submit or die. The younger, inexperienced gangsters were terrified.

For a long time, the Oni Clan had believed they were on equal footing with the Yamata no Orochi clan, which was why the Orochi clan had maintained their restraint. But when the family showed its true wrath, they finally understood what it meant to face the true rulers of the underworld. They had only survived this long because the clan had been holding back out of family ties. As the same bloodline, the leaders of the eight great families hadn’t wanted to completely wipe them out—until now.

No one knew how long the Yamata no Orochi clan had been preparing for this war, but they had gathered almost all the intelligence on the Oni Clan. This included illegal dealings of the gangs under the Oni Clan’s control and their connections with government officials. The Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department received an anonymous email containing evidence of the Oni Clan’s crimes. If the judge accepted the evidence, more than half of the Oni Clan’s leaders would face imprisonment. The officials who had been shielding the Oni Clan received death threats. One county council member’s car was suddenly lifted off the road by a helicopter and flown five hundred meters above the ground. Terrified, the council member received a call from Left Kamobe, one of the elders of the Yamata no Orochi clan, who expressed a warm greeting. Ten minutes later, the helicopter set the car down in front of the county council building, and by then, the council member had pledged loyalty to the Yamata no Orochi clan.

The gangs allied with the Oni Clan were somewhat fortunate compared to the true “ghosts” within the clan. The ghosts had no chance of surrender, despite their shared blood with the Yamata no Orochi clan. Some ghosts tried to escape by using a drug that forcibly purified their bloodline, but against the Execution Bureau, which was born to hunt them, they were nothing more than cornered beasts. No matter how furious their resistance, their hearts were pierced by mercury-filled explosive bullets. Monks accompanying the Execution Bureau’s forces were responsible for encasing the ghosts’ corpses in concrete pillars, which were then driven into the seabed to form orderly rows. On that reclaimed land, the Yamata no Orochi’s affiliated Maruyama Construction would build a shrine to mourn the dead.