Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 246: Attack of the Rat Team (8)

Dragon Raja 3

“Apologies are useless. On the battlefield, if you have time to apologize, it will be your last words! Join the team moving boxes! They’re short on hands! Run like a horse!” Nanami barked, pointing toward the door.

Several Execution Bureau officers jogged past the elevator, each carrying document boxes. Caesar now had a chance to look around the floor properly. Rows of towering bookshelves divided the space, filled with bound volumes wrapped in plain white leather. Except for Nanami, who wore a white uniform skirt, everyone else was in black coats. Some were responsible for packing documents into boxes, others for cataloging them, and still others transported the sealed boxes to the freight elevator. Only a few people weren’t part of the operation, patrolling the area with hands on their weapons, indicating the high value of these documents.

Caesar mentally connected this to the Cassell College’s library, where centuries of handwritten research manuscripts were stored in bound volumes with leather covers. This floor was evidently Yamata no Orochi’s library or archives.

Nanami, her face frosty, descended the elevator. She really hadn’t recognized Caesar. Then again, they had only briefly met before, and back then, Caesar was the elegant, golden-haired nobleman in a white suit. Who would’ve imagined that the Gattuso heir would disguise himself in such a flamboyant way? Near the emptied bookshelves were piles of document boxes, evidence that the transport team was understaffed. Lu Mingfei, Caesar, and Chu Zihang quickly jogged over, each picking up a box and blending in with the others heading to the freight elevator.

Everyone worked in silence—those packing, those moving. The efficiency of the Japanese was on full display here, as even in such an urgent task, the division of labor was incredibly clear, and everyone knew their role without needing further direction. Nanami had probably mistaken them for reinforcements in the rush of things.

Caesar mimicked the others, placing the document box in front of the elevator, where someone recorded the box’s number and checked it before sealing it in a black wrapper and sending it into the elevator.

The record keeper waved his pencil, signaling the movers to stop for a moment. A member of the Execution Bureau inside the elevator nodded, saying “はい,” before the elevator began to ascend with the stacked boxes.

Caesar took a quick look around. Every exit was guarded by officers from the Execution Bureau. This strange “move” was likely to continue until morning, given the sheer volume of documents. They couldn’t afford to wait around too long, or they’d eventually be discovered.

“They’ve got it all timed perfectly,” Chu Zihang whispered. “Each elevator load carries fifty boxes. The last person to load a box rides up with the documents and is free to leave after that.”

Caesar suddenly understood. The Japanese were meticulous in their work, to the point of being rigid. The number of boxes sent on each elevator trip was precisely regulated—exactly fifty. The fiftieth mover naturally became the escort, with everyone working together like a well-oiled machine. Caesar, who couldn’t even balance his accounts properly, would never have noticed this, but Chu Zihang’s level of precision rivaled that of the Japanese. By controlling their speed, they could make sure they were the fiftieth person three times, which would allow them to leave the archives in about thirty minutes, as each elevator load took about ten minutes to fill.

The three of them exchanged glances. “I’ll go first, Chu Zihang second, Lu Mingfei, you’ll be last,” Caesar whispered.

“But the weak and vulnerable are supposed to retreat first!” Lu Mingfei protested softly.

“Well, you’re the only one with that perfectly forgettable face, aren’t you? At least you have that one natural talent, so use it well, Sakura!” Caesar pretended to wipe his brow. He reasoned that his decision to leave first wasn’t out of cowardice, but because his tanned appearance stood out too much among the black-clad office worker types. He looked like a girl from Shibuya’s 109 district【*a reference to high school trendsetters who adopted tanned skin as a fashion statement inspired by celebrities like Namie Amuro.】.

“This is the first time the police have ever issued a search warrant against us since this building was constructed, right? What are they hoping to find?” a familiar voice suddenly rang out behind Caesar.

Caesar’s body stiffened slightly—Execution Bureau Chief Chisei was standing right behind him!

Chu Zihang immediately sensed Caesar’s rising killing intent. It wasn’t fear—it was fury.

Lately, Caesar had been having the same dream repeatedly. The world was burning, and a red figure fell from a rooftop. He dove to catch her, but when he did, the person in his arms turned to red sand and slipped away, leaving his embrace empty. He would wake up drenched in sweat, feeling cold inside. He knew no matter how many times he dreamed it, he would never catch the real thing because the distance between them was that of life and death. The weak Caesar from years ago had returned, bringing back memories of his childhood, where he was manipulated by others, and of his regal yet pitiful mother. He was reliving that powerless feeling of reaching out, only to find his arms empty.

He had to settle this, or the nightmares would never stop, and his thoughts would remain trapped in the moment of her death.

If he didn’t control himself, he might leap forward right now, grab Chisei by the throat, and slam this delicate, effeminate man against the wall, demanding to know why all this was happening. If Chisei couldn’t give him an answer, Caesar might crush his throat!

Chu Zihang coughed quietly, reminding Caesar to rein in his anger. Chisei had been through countless battlefields and was as sensitive to killing intent as a wild beast. Chu Zihang still couldn’t gauge how strong this so-called “Number One of Japan’s Division” really was. Chisei was like a well—calm and placid on the surface but unfathomably deep. Even if they worked together, there was no guarantee they could take him down instantly, especially since there was another man with him: Tachibana, the former head of Yamata no Orochi, and an equally deep and dangerous figure.

“The National Diet’s Anti-Organized Crime Committee issued the search warrant, officially on suspicion of illegal arms possession. In reality, it’s a warning that they won’t turn a blind eye to our activities anymore. The war against the Oni Clan has swept across the country—Tokyo, Hokkaido, Osaka, and 43 prefectures. Even the Diet is feeling uneasy. They don’t have time to push through new anti-crime laws, so they’re using this search warrant to stir things up a bit,” Masamune said with a slight smile. “Don’t worry about it, Chisei. They won’t find anything. It’s easy to move the weapons, but these documents are a bit trickier because there are so many of them. But we have to move them.”

“All being transferred to the lower district?” Chisei asked.

“Yes, with the level of design from Maruyama Construction, there’s no way the police would suspect this building has a hidden section. The shipyard in the Ganryū Research Institute is also secure. I’ll take care of our esteemed police guests. After all, the war is almost over. The only ones left on the run are the King and the Dragon King. With the destruction of the Elysium Hall, they’ve lost their final stronghold, and the spiders still roaming outside won’t last long,” Masamune’s voice turned somber. “The only thing that unsettles me… is the God. We interrogated those Oni all night, but none of them mentioned anything about the God.”

“I’ll continue searching for the King and the Dragon King. Perhaps only they hold the information about the God,” Chisei paused. “Still no word from Caesar’s team?”

“None at all. It’s truly bizarre. They don’t speak Japanese, and they don’t have a base, yet they’ve vanished without a trace near the border of Tokyo and Saitama. Not even Cassell College can locate them, let alone us. Maybe a third party is sheltering them, but in Japan, who would risk offending us to protect them?” Masamune shook his head.

“How are the Inuyama family matters being handled?”

“Let them choose a new head for the family. They’re all immersed in grief, so the Inuyamas won’t be able to help for a while.”

“Any news from the principal in the past few days?”

“He’s completely disappeared from the city, but that’s not surprising for him. He’s very familiar with Japan, and likely still has some old friends helping him. We don’t dare send anyone to follow him. No one can track an S-Rank Hybrid with the Yanling ‘Time Zero.’”

As Chisei and Masamune continued their conversation, Lu Mingfei brushed past them, his shirt soaked in sweat, clinging tightly to his skin. He strained to listen, but Masamune and Chisei had lowered their voices deliberately, and Lu Mingfei’s Japanese listening skills, honed from watching anime, were better suited for picking up cute girls’ flirtations. He only caught bits and pieces of their conversation, hearing words like “God,” “King,” and “Dragon King,” none of which made much sense to him. However, the biggest revelation was that Anjou had already arrived in Tokyo.

In the history of the Secret Party, Anjou was a legend—not because of his bloodline or abilities, but because of his mysterious fate. In the past hundred years, no matter the crisis, whenever Anjou appeared, he could always turn the tide. Lu Mingfei vividly remembered the battle against Constantine. The Dragon King had awakened on campus, and even when Lu Mingfei had missed his shot, Anjou had remained absolutely calm and subdued Constantine. His figure charging at the Dragon King had been seared into the memory of every student, transforming him into a dragon-slaying sword. Although Lu Mingfei hadn’t met with the principal yet, he already felt more confident knowing Anjou was around.

Chu Zihang gestured from near the freight elevator, holding up two fingers as a signal. The elevator doors slowly closed. Their retreat plan was working. Caesar and Chu Zihang had taken turns escorting the document boxes to the upper floors, and now Lu Mingfei was hustling as he carried another box, trying to keep up.