Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 318: Ghost of Black Swan Bay (3)

Dragon Raja 3

Inside the file was an old personnel record, yellowed with age. The photo showed a man with the typical features of a Russian—handsome and imposing.

“This man was named Bondarev, but today, he goes by the name Tachibana,” Ruri said.

Caesar recalled their brief meeting at the Awakening Temple and remembered hearing the Russian palatal sounds in Tachibana’s accent. Tachibana himself had admitted that he was born in Russia.

“Although this is a human story, its suspense rivals any Japanese myth. When humans are cruel, they are no less fearsome than dragons,” Ruri said, adding fresh tobacco to his pipe. “Decades ago, in northern Siberia, within the Arctic Circle, there was a nameless port that could only be reached by icebreakers…”

With that, he began to slowly transport his listeners back to the frigid winter of 1991, to the snow-covered plains of Siberia by the shores of the Arctic Ocean, to the lonely fortress known as Black Swan Bay—dragon bones, secret research facilities, orphanages, and a fire that lit up half the sky.

At first, Caesar and Chu Zihang interrupted with questions, but gradually, they both fell silent, entranced by Ruri’s voice, which now seemed like the voice of a ghost who had personally witnessed that tragedy, recounting a tale from a previous life.

“Eventually, Bondarev boarded the Lenin with the ancient dragon embryo. The massive ship sailed east, toward Japan, before finally sinking into the divine realm. The crisis Japan faces today began thirty years ago, and the man who has borne witness to it all is Tachibana.”

Ruri finished his story, and it was indeed more terrifying than any Japanese myth. The horror of the Yamata no Orochi was lost in the distant past, its details vague, but the story of Black Swan Bay was clear and detailed, with verifiable times and places, making it feel as though it had only happened yesterday.

For a full minute, neither Caesar nor Chu Zihang spoke. It wasn’t until the ash of Caesar’s cigar burned his fingers that he jolted out of the story’s trance.

“The Death Servitors you encountered in Genji Heavy Industries weren’t intruders from outside—they were already inside. Their runaway pets,” Ruri said, laying a few photographs in front of Chu Zihang. “The breeding pool is located beneath Genji Heavy Industries, using the sewer system for water circulation, forming a complete breeding ecosystem. That place is called ‘Naraku,’ a bloody hell.”

With the evidence in front of them, nothing was more convincing than the photos. The images documented every corner of the bloodstained breeding pool. In one, humanoid fish swam inside transparent water tanks. There were close-up shots of them pressed against the glass walls, and photos of iron beds and restraints used for dissecting them. Bloody surgical instruments were shown in horrifying detail. The most terrifying images were of dissected Death Servitors, some of their bodies hollowed out and suspended in formaldehyde, while others were isolated glands or brains, or even female specimens cut open lengthwise, revealing fetuses inside.

“It truly is hell.” Caesar couldn’t stand to look anymore. Their job was to eliminate these bloodthirsty beasts, but seeing their bodies cut open and hollowed out for research made him feel a sense of unease.

“They were once human. It was only after being subjected to drugs that they became Death Servitors. Doesn’t that make it even more cruel once you think about it?” Ruri said, expressionless.

“But you can’t prove this breeding pool is inside Genji Heavy Industries. It could have been built by your people, and maybe you created the Death Servitors, while the Yamata no Orochi clan is merely studying them,” Chu Zihang said.

“If you don’t want to believe me, there’s nothing I can say to convince you,” Ruri replied calmly to Chu Zihang’s skepticism. “But now, allow me to tell you the third story, about Osho of the Oni Clan.”

“The ‘Osho’ or ‘Osho’ is the most powerful piece in shogi. So, the person with the code name ‘Osho’ must be the head of the Oni Clan, right?” Chu Zihang asked.

“Yes,” Ruri nodded. “Osho is my teacher and the supreme leader of the Oni Clan, the one to whom I owe my loyalty. But I have never seen Osho’s true face. Osho always wears a mask, and no one knows his real name. About thirty years ago, he appeared before the Oni Clan. At that time, the Oni Clan had been forced into a desperate situation by the Yamata no Orochi clan. It was he who saved the Oni Clan. He was both intelligent and iron-fisted, earning everyone’s trust. Osho promoted a theory, claiming that genetic technology had advanced enough to help Hybrids evolve into pure-blooded dragons. This news excited us, and some people voluntarily took the evolutionary drugs provided by Osho. At first, they reaped benefits—significant enhancement in their bloodlines without losing their sanity. But the good times didn’t last long. The effects of the drug became increasingly unstable, and eventually, the test subjects turned into Death Servitors. They rampaged through major cities, killing indiscriminately. To prevent the truth from getting out, both the Oni Clan and the Execution Bureau worked to eliminate the rogue subjects. Within the Oni Clan, this group is called the ‘Scavenger Team,’ responsible for cleaning up the out-of-control experiments.”

“You’re artificially creating Oni!” Caesar exclaimed.

“Yes, but the power of dragons is too tempting. Humanity has been researching how to evolve into dragons since ancient times. Our original intention was to create gods, but we ended up creating Oni time and again,” Ruri said. “Osho claimed that the evolutionary drug lacked the most crucial ingredient—divine blood. Only divine blood could complete the final evolution of Hybrids. So Osho halted the research on the evolutionary drug and turned to ways of resurrecting gods. But more and more Death Servitors began appearing out of nowhere, and creatures ran rampant in the shadows of Japan. That’s when we realized that someone else was also creating Death Servitors. It wasn’t just the Oni Clan conducting this research. They had improved upon Osho’s evolutionary drug, making it even more potent, but we’ve never been able to trace the source of those drugs.”

“Are you implying that Tachibana is secretly creating Death Servitors?” Caesar asked.

“Yes, who else in Japan has the capability to create Death Servitors besides us? Don’t forget, the Yamata no Orochi clan holds the records of all the Oni, and only they know how to locate them, coercing them into becoming test subjects. I suspect that Tachibana controls two groups—one group creates the Oni, while the other cleans up the mess. My brother, who is responsible for cleaning up, has never known that what he’s clearing is precisely what his family created.” Ruri sighed deeply. “There is no such thing as justice in this world. Those who claim to be friends of justice are just moths drawn to the flame.”

“Just because you can’t see the light doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist; just because you don’t see justice doesn’t mean your eyes aren’t blind,” Caesar retorted. “At least those moths still open their eyes, searching for the light.”

Ruri was silent for a few seconds before he smiled. “Well said. I’ve told you three stories now, and that’s everything I know. From these three stories, everyone will draw their own conclusions. I’d like to hear your thoughts.”