Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 300: Second Son of Gen Family (3)

Dragon Raja 3

The fat woman suddenly stopped. A long blade was held horizontally at her throat, the edge slightly pressing into her skin. If she spoke again, the movement of her throat would cause the blade to cut her. Veins bulged on Chu Zihang’s hand gripping the sword.

Caesar slowly turned around. “I hate seeing people treat women violently… so I have no choice but to turn away.”

After a fierce battle, their tempers were a bit high, and the fat woman’s endless prattle had completely destroyed their patience. A top-rated host has his pride, and they had already spent a long time speaking humbly and kindly to her, yet she didn’t understand the concept of taking advantage of the situation and letting it go.

Whale thought to himself, “Now we’re really screwed!”

“Excuse me, is this Takamagahara? Are Basara King, Ukyo, and Little Sakura here? Kazama Ruri has come to pay his respects.” Someone gently knocked on the door.

The hosts were all shocked and looked toward the door, Whale included.

The door was open, and a handsome boy stood in the thin sunlight, dressed in a white shirt and black suit, his neat straight hair framing his face, holding a bouquet of budding tulips.

The attention made the boy a bit shy. He bowed deeply and handed over a business card with both hands.

“Kazama… Ruri Master?” someone said in a reverent tone.

Caesar and Chu Zihang had heard of the name Kazama Ruri. Every host in Japan had heard of him because he was the number one, the king, the supreme.

In the Host Association, there was a leaderboard, and Ruri had been number one on that list for six consecutive years. This list didn’t judge by looks or revenue but by artistic principles, selecting the master of the male-host floristry.

No one knew which club Ruri worked at; his whereabouts were unpredictable. For a time, he would appear every night at a fixed seat in a bar, drawing thousands of girls to the bar, only to disappear suddenly one day, leaving the bar deserted overnight. A heartbroken girl might run into him at a hot spring hotel under Mount Fuji or on the sea-crossing bridge in Ehime Prefecture. If you gave him a little money, he would accompany you for hours, showing you around like an old lover reunited in a foreign land. Some said he was skilled in Kabuki and would occasionally sing for girls, using the sound of the sea as his accompaniment. Others said he was a master chef, and if you spent a night with him, you would be treated to the best Japanese breakfast in the world in the morning.

Some said Ruri was actually a billionaire, but his reclusive nature meant he only opened up to the girls he encountered by chance. His personal items were all top luxury brands, yet the fee he charged the girls was merely the price of a simple lunch. Once, he accepted a bowl of ramen from a heartbroken high school girl and took her on a tour of all of Kyoto, even giving her an expensive vase and roses. Working as a host at a loss, you could say, on a small scale, it was out of the goodness of his heart, and on a larger scale, it even had the meaning of charity.

In short, Kazama Ruri was a legend, existing solely for love. If he maintained this legend for another ten years, he had a chance of becoming a god in the host world, even being enshrined in a shrine.

Fujiwara Kansuke hurriedly walked over, taking the pure white business card and holding it high above his head before handing it to Whale.

The business card emitted a faint scent of chrysanthemums. The front side displayed a chrysanthemum swaying in the wind, delicately drawn in ink. The back simply had four characters in calligraphy: “Ruri,” with no address, phone number, title, or email—nothing else.

This small card was Ruri’s form of identification. There were many legends on women’s forums about “encounters with Ruri,” but only those who could show the card were telling the truth; the rest were just making up stories. Every one of Ruri’s cards was handwritten and drawn by himself, and no two were the same. When he gave someone a card, it was less of an introduction and more of proof that they had once crossed paths. Once, a customer who supported Caesar drunkenly pulled out Ruri’s card, boasting, “Though Basara King is so perfect, I’ve seen Japan’s true number one!” All the nearby customers were drawn to the card, surrounding her with admiration, leaving Caesar completely ignored.

“It truly is Master Kazama visiting us,” Whale straightened his tie and hurriedly went to greet him. The calm and unadorned style of this business card alone signified the arrival of a titan in the industry.

“Today is a day of great honor for Takamagahara,” Whale bowed deeply.

“I’ve long admired your name, Senior Whale. It’s a pleasure to meet you for the first time, and I look forward to your guidance,” Ruri returned the bow.

Ruri’s appearance was beyond everyone’s expectations. Normally, a man who could make women fall for him at first sight should be extremely alluring, with looks to rival movie stars. But Ruri looked quite ordinary, almost like a female high school student dressed in men’s clothing.

The wind fluttered his clothes as he stood in the sunlight, smiling faintly. Though he appeared so unassuming, no one could deny his charm—a person as pure as clear water, yet radiating infinite brilliance in the sunlight.

The hosts all felt a bit inferior in comparison, like they were all just ordinary folk compared to the master.

Ruri bowed deeply to Caesar, “You must be Basara King, a man as free-spirited as a rock.”

Then he bowed to Chu Zihang, “If I’m not mistaken, this must be Teacher Ukyo. Though they say you have the image of a swordsman, you seem to be a gentle person.”

He looked around, “Is Teacher Sakura not here?”

“How do you know Sakura isn’t here? Have we met before? Maybe he’s hidden among these people, but you didn’t recognize him,” Caesar eyed Ruri.

“Though I’ve never met Teacher Sakura, I imagine he would have the eyes of a lion,” Ruri smiled.

“You’d better ask the lion if he agrees with your assessment,” Caesar raised an eyebrow. “So, why are you here to see us?”

“There is indeed a matter, but first, let’s resolve the current tension,” Ruri walked up to the fat woman and bowed deeply, “Please forgive my bluntness, but the life of a host isn’t as you describe. If we were truly just like dogs, wouldn’t being accompanied by us lower your own status as well?”

“I-I-I…” The fat woman, in front of this boy as pure as clear water, became as flustered as a lovestruck girl. At that moment, her stomach growled—she hadn’t eaten anything since the previous night.

“It seems you’re hungry. If you don’t mind, let me make you something to eat first, and we can talk about apologies afterward, okay?”