Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 250: Divine Hall of Murals (4)

Dragon Raja 3

Caesar was left speechless. Could that lazy, taciturn Japanese man really be the Emperor, the being who transcended all hybrids? Beneath that indifferent exterior lay the greatest power among hybrids, yet he only aspired to sell sunscreen? It was like hearing that Alexander the Great’s life goal was to become an oyster fisherman in the Mediterranean.

“Wait, wait! This is too absurd! How could something as ridiculous as a super hybrid exist in this world? Honestly, I’d sooner believe in Super Saiyans!” Caesar suddenly exclaimed, smacking his forehead in frustration.

His emotions were complicated, as if he’d just been told there was someone more handsome and charismatic than him. He had always believed in his own exceptionalism, perhaps only admitting Chu Zihang could rival him in some ways. But the idea of a super hybrid? Damn it! That would make the heir of the Gattuso family nothing more than a commoner beneath the Critical Bloodline Threshold, while Chisei, the cigarette-smoking Japanese man, was the true aristocrat of hybrids? It was all wrong! And if it was wrong, it certainly wasn’t Caesar Gattuso who was at fault—clearly, the world itself was!

“How can anyone ignore the Critical Bloodline Threshold? It’s an insurmountable barrier. Anyone who crosses it would have their mind devoured. But Chisei seems perfectly normal, right? Shouldn’t dragon blood make him manic or something? But he just looks lethargic, like he’s suffering from some hormonal deficiency!” Caesar ranted, persistently debating with Chu Zihang. In his life, he had never been this determined to get to the bottom of an academic question, let alone with his rival.

“What does the word ’emperor’ mean when it is separated?” Chu Zihang stared into his eyes.

“White… King?” After several seconds of silence, Caesar slowly and painfully uttered the words. “Damn… they’re descendants of the White Emperor? The Japanese are descendants of the White Emperor?”

“Yes, they are the descendants of the White Emperor, who were believed to have been wiped out by the Secret Party. The title of this series of murals is The Origins of the White Emperor. It tells the story of the White Emperor and his descendants. The ancestors of the Yamata no Orochi clan learned the character for ‘Emperor’ from China. They believed this character was created specifically for super hybrids. In Chinese, the character ‘皇’ has connotations of divinity, like in The Songs of Chu, where ‘Eastern Emperor Taiyi’ is mentioned. But beyond that, it hides the name of the White Emperor. The Emperor is the human closest to a god. He inherits the bloodline of the White Emperor, the Dragon King who mastered spiritual elements. The White Emperor could control others’ minds while keeping his own mind eternally clear. The Emperor inherits that talent—though he surpasses the Critical Bloodline Threshold, his spiritual gift ensures his sanity remains intact.” Chu Zihang paused. “He is a unique anomaly—his body is nearly all dragon blood, but strangely, he retains a human heart.”

“Freak!” After a long silence, Caesar muttered.

At this moment, at the bottom of Genji Heavy Industries, deeper than the Iron Dome Temple, in the absolute darkness, a deep red “Naraku” lit up. It was the indicator light of an elevator.

“Naraku” is a loanword derived from the Buddhist term “Naraka,” referring to the deepest depths of hell—a void of endless descent where demons are eternally trapped, never to return to the human world, only to exist in perpetual fall.

The elevator doors opened, and a shadowed figure stepped into the pitch-black darkness. Apart from the faint hum of the ventilation fans, the place was deathly silent.

Suddenly, the wall ahead illuminated, revealing a towering seven-to-eight-meter-high wall emitting a faint blue glow. Upon closer inspection, the wall was actually the side of a massive water tank, with one side made of glass. The glass wall was composed of hundreds of square meter-sized panels, held together by narrow metal frames. Above the water tank, large water turbines and filters were installed. This tank’s capacity rivaled the giant aquariums of marine museums, so large that ordinary water pipes could not supply enough water. Instead, it sourced water from the sewers, filtered it, and pumped it into the tank. When it needed to be drained, the water would be pumped out by the turbine and redirected back into the Iron Dome system.

The shadow sat down against the glass wall, the bluish glow illuminating his profile—sharp and striking, like a marble statue of a Greek youth from the Parthenon. From one angle, his face appeared soft and effeminate, but from another, he resembled a child, like a boy sitting alone at an aquarium watching a beluga whale.

There are always children who go to aquariums alone to watch the whales, sitting there for hours. The whales only occasionally approach the glass to inspect them. Adults passing by see the backs of these children and find them strange, perhaps even a bit unnerving in their depth.

Children, at times, are indeed peculiar creatures.

The boy unwrapped a piece of gum and popped it into his mouth, showing no urgency as he sat before the empty tank. In the depths of the tank, the sound of rushing water echoed, suggesting the presence of some large aquatic creature. It swam swiftly, leaving a trail of eddies in its wake. The boy took out a laser pointer and switched it on, creating a small red dot on the glass. Pet owners often use these to play with their cats, making the light dart across the floor as their pets chase it. The boy slowly moved the laser pointer, the red dot dancing erratically, eventually catching the attention of the aquatic creature. It swam closer and closer. Not just one, but a whole school of fish approached the glass, pushing their heads against it, staring intently at the red dot.

Their faces were eerily pale, like the bloated corpses of people who had been drifting at sea for days.

A group of fish with human faces peered through the glass, observing the human world. Some were expressionless, while others had their lips curled into disturbing smiles.

They weren’t all identical. Most had long tails and scales, but some bore bizarre appendages—gigantic claws, blade-like bony fins. When they breathed, the slits at the base of their necks opened, revealing deep red gill-like structures. The boy’s hand moved slightly, and the human-faced fish twisted gracefully, chasing the light dot as it moved across the glass, behaving like obedient pets. The entire tank swirled with movement, and a dark golden skeleton floated up from the bottom—a skeleton halfway between human, fish, and bird. It had once belonged to the same species as the human-faced fish, who clearly didn’t mind devouring one of their own when starving. The dark golden bones were covered in teeth marks, as if hacked apart with axes.

The boy turned off the laser pointer and approached the glass. Without the red dot to chase, the fish scattered. Only one smaller fish remained near the glass, still searching for the mysterious light. The boy pressed his hand against the glass, and the reflection revealed that the wall was nearly half a meter thick, made from large glass blocks.

The human-faced fish pressed its face against the glass, observing the boy’s hand. Its features became clearer—it was female, or at least, feminine, with long black hair and a pale but strikingly beautiful face. There were subtle traces of cosmetic surgery on her features. If it weren’t for the unsettling environment, spotting a face like hers on the streets of Shibuya might even feel like a charming encounter.

“You’re beautiful,” the boy said softly. “At least, when you were alive.”

Only the face was beautiful. From the neck down, the human-faced fish’s body was grotesque—its lower half fused into a snake-like tail, with vestiges of feet still visible.