Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 239: Attack of the Rat Team (1)

Dragon Raja 3

“Go! Go! Go! Hustle, boys! Our lovely guests need you to save them!” Humpback Whale shouted from outside the dressing room, as the hosts rushed in and out, changing costumes.

“Coming, coming!” Lu Mingfei hurriedly pulled up his pants as he dashed out of the restroom.

“Did you die in the restroom, Little Sakura?” Humpback Whale angrily slapped his shoulder, almost knocking him down. “We’re short-staffed! Get out there and serve the guests drinks!”

“Yes, yes! I’ll go right now!” Lu Mingfei sprinted towards the hall, buckling his belt as he ran.

“Spritz on some cologne! Don’t overdo it—don’t choke the guests! Show your spirit! Run down the path of manhood like a racehorse!” Humpback Whale bellowed, pumping his fists in the air.

From 8 to 10 PM, Takamagahara was at its busiest. Onstage, the hosts were performing a variety of shows, from dramatic plays like Cleopatra and Antony to Chu Zihang’s swordsmanship demonstrations. Offstage, guests were already tipsy, calling for their favorite hosts to join them. Outside, cars were arriving in a steady stream, with late-arriving guests often being groups of girlfriends who had already dined elsewhere and now came to join the singing and dancing party. The hosts had to rush around greeting guests. They were short on staff everywhere, so both the hosts and waiters were running non-stop. Humpback Whale stood by the backstage dressing room, yelling like the ringmaster of a circus.

In moments like these, Lu Mingfei felt like one of the circus monkeys under Humpback Whale’s command. While the Bengal tigers jumping through flaming hoops and the black stallions adorned with white feathers were still prepping backstage, he was sent out to perform simple tricks, like balancing bowls or riding a unicycle, to keep the audience entertained.

“Ukyo! Ukyo!” A woman’s voice called from afar. “If you don’t come to my side, I’ll jump from here! We’ll only meet again in heaven. Will you still love me then?”

“Jump, jump, it’s only the first floor,” Lu Mingfei muttered under his breath.

He dashed into the glaring lights, barely catching his breath before a woman the size of Fujiwara Kankuro barrelled into him, her tear-filled eyes pressing him down into the sofa. “Ukyo, where did you go? You won’t abandon me like that heartless man, will you?”

“Help… help…” Lu Mingfei squirmed, trying to escape the suffocating embrace.

A towering figure appeared beside the sofa. Fujiwara Kankuro, a former sumo champion, effortlessly lifted the hefty woman, who wasn’t much lighter than himself, and gently placed her to the side. Lu Mingfei, having endured both crushing weight and lack of air, sat on the sofa, swaying and rolling his eyes.

Finally realizing she had the wrong person, the woman fixed her dress with some semblance of dignity, as if she didn’t want this insignificant lackey to have taken advantage of her. After composing herself, she launched back into her performance. “Ukyo, you are the treasure gifted to me by the gods! I am willing to be a thornbird, my heart pierced on your blade!”

Guests like her were the most troublesome, always using alcohol as an excuse to act out. If she continued to cause a scene, she would disturb the other guests. Chu Zihang had just finished his Samurai’s Sashimi performance and was busy washing off the fish smell, which was why Humpback Whale had urgently summoned Lu Mingfei from the restroom. After all, both he and Chu Zihang were black-haired and black-eyed Chinese men. In cases like these, Lu Mingfei was the next best thing.

“This is a new host at the club, Sakura. Ukyo is changing clothes in the back, and the boss sent Sakura to pour you some drinks in the meantime,” Fujiwara Kankuro, ever the seasoned host with a heart of gold, stepped forward to introduce the newcomer to the woman.

“We paid to be here, didn’t we? There’s no reason for you to use waiters to fill in just because you’re short on staff, is there?” The woman glanced at Lu Mingfei with disdain and began raising her voice again. “Are you looking down on us Kansai folks?”

Lu Mingfei sat meekly in the corner of the sofa, thinking to himself, How can anyone expect a 200-pound thornbird to stay on your sword? Senior Brother’s sword can’t handle that.

The woman pulled out a stack of cash from her crocodile-skin Birkin bag, slapping it on the table as she swayed her plump shoulders. “They all say Takamagahara is the best place in Tokyo. I want the top host in the best place! Name your price, I’ll pay it. Bring Ukyo out! I don’t want this cheap stand-in!” She pointed dismissively at Lu Mingfei.

Fujiwara Kankuro raised an eyebrow but didn’t touch the money. He remained respectfully composed. “I’ll go call Ukyo right away. Please relax and enjoy a drink.”

“Sakura, don’t just sit there—pour the guest a drink,” he said, guiding Lu Mingfei to the woman’s side, handing him a champagne bottle, and giving his shoulder a reassuring pat.

Lu Mingfei quickly filled her empty glass with champagne, and she finally nodded in satisfaction. “Now that’s more like it. A waiter should stick to waiting tables. Just because you dress up doesn’t mean you deserve to drink with me.”

Lu Mingfei shot a grateful glance at Fujiwara Kankuro, thankful that he had helped defuse the situation. Fujiwara, without missing a beat, hurried off to tend to his other regulars.

The woman and her girlfriends started chatting in their Kansai dialect, of which Lu Mingfei could only understand about 30 to 40 percent. From what he gathered, they were praising Ukyo as the most magnificent man, wondering what kind of fate had brought them together. They mused about how, the moment their eyes met, sparks flew, and he silently stole her heart. They planned to celebrate her and Ukyo’s destined love once he arrived, but she asked them not to be too jealous.

In reality, she had only met Chu Zihang for the first time the previous night, when he had worn a samurai outfit and carried a sword. Never having encountered such an aggressively forward guest, the stone-cold killer himself had struggled to endure it, gripping his sword until his knuckles turned white. However, in her mind, every time they locked eyes, there were fireworks.

Indeed, sparks were flying—just like when the legendary swordsman Miyamoto Musashi locked eyes with Sasaki Kojiro before their duel on Ganryu Island. Their gaze ignited the same fiery tension… before Musashi drew his sword and slashed Kojiro down.

Finally, Chu Zihang, dressed in a sharp silver suit, strode out from backstage.

“More champagne! Let’s toast to my Ukyo!” The woman was on the verge of exploding with excitement.

She tossed cash into the waiter’s tray, and the popping of champagne corks sounded like royal salutes. The golden liquid flowed into flutes, and the woman and her friends raised their glasses in celebration.

“Ukyo’s earnings are even better than Basara King’s tonight! He’s sold 120 bottles of champagne already!” whispered one of the waiters as he delivered drinks, leaning towards Lu Mingfei. “It seems like Basara King is putting in a lot of effort too, probably competing with Ukyo.”