Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 354: Family Dinner (15)

Dragon Raja 3

The AS50’s large-caliber bullets were different from Lu Mingfei’s handgun rounds. Each hit caused the black-clad server to stagger slightly, and finally, the Lamborghini accelerated beyond his reach. At the moment Mai emptied her magazine, the server looked up toward the rooftop, locking eyes with her. His red-gold pupils caused her to shiver violently. She swiftly switched to bullets crafted from the Philosopher’s Stone, extremely rare ammunition. But in this situation, she understood that eliminating this target took precedence, no matter the cost.

The server disappeared from her view, likely predicting her next move and hiding in a blind spot.

The Lamborghini sped through a puddle, veering onto a narrow path. Mai leaped to the edge of the rooftop. In the storm, her rifle remained steady, aimed at the spot where the server was hiding. She would shoot the moment he exposed himself.

“You can’t eliminate that target. Your primary mission is to ensure Lu Mingfei’s safe evacuation. The second priority is dealing with my old friend,” came a grim voice from her earpiece. It was her boss, his usual carefree tone replaced with something cold and menacing, as if he were biting down on steel.

A black helicopter appeared over Ebisu Garden, its bright searchlights locking onto the fleeing Lamborghini. Chisei had called for aerial support at the outset, and it had finally arrived.

“Uesugi family head and a male companion are driving west on a side road in Ebisu Garden. Numerous vehicles are following and attempting to block them,” the helicopter pilot’s communication fed directly into Chisei’s earpiece.

“Send a message to all affiliated gangs: anyone who harms the target will be blacklisted by the family,” Chisei said, watching a photo gradually load on his phone. It was a clear profile shot of Lu Mingfei.

“Erii, is this the man you trust?” he muttered, surprised, then softly.

The Hummer swerved violently, splashing rain as Sakura also headed onto the west road of Ebisu Garden. It was an upscale residential area, quite old, from a time when people walked more than they drove. The streets were narrow and winding, with small, tranquil gardens on either side. The road was barely wide enough for two small cars to pass, and the large Hummer dominated it completely. The helicopter pilot transmitted the map to the Hummer’s navigation screen, a blue dot moving swiftly toward the northwest.

At that moment, everyone’s phones pinged with a new message. Chisei grabbed his phone and read: “The bounty has been increased to 10 billion yen. The reward goes to whoever delivers the woman in the photo to the family.”

This wasn’t the message Chisei intended to send. The family’s communication system had been entirely compromised by outsiders, who kept increasing the bounty, fueling the greed of the Tokyo underworld and inciting them to hunt down Erii.

The situation was spiraling out of control. Even as the head of the Yamata no Orochi, Chisei couldn’t rein in the gangs. Ebisu Garden had become a hunting ground, with Erii as the prey, and the entirety of Tokyo’s underworld was closing in. More were on their way.

Chisei knew what gang members were capable of. Human greed was more terrifying than any Dragon King. When faced with immense profit, many people would become as bloodthirsty as dragons.

He thought of the late Makoto, and cold sweat trickled down his back.

Lu Mingfei had no time to celebrate escaping the black-clad server before the gangs caught up to him. More and more motorcycles emerged from alleyways, joining the chase, while cars occasionally came straight at them, trying to force them to stop.

The Lamborghini wasn’t designed for these narrow, winding streets. It was made for high-speed tracks, but for now, it was the only thing Lu Mingfei could rely on. He drove as fast as he could, braking and turning sharply, zigzagging like a headless chicken.

He knew that if they stopped, it would be over.

The strange clacking sound of the wooden clappers still lingered in his mind, with flashes of fragmented memories passing before his eyes. A boy and girl, hand in hand, fleeing across a frozen wasteland. Black crows pursued them in the sky, and fire rained down, exploding the snow into the air and turning the undersides of the clouds red. The boy pressed snow onto the girl’s face. She had died, and blood seeped through the snow.

Rage, resentment, the desire to scream—these emotions swirled inside him for no reason. He wanted to scream: “Where are you driving me? Aren’t you afraid… of death?”

No one could force a lion over a cliff. Such a proud creature wouldn’t allow itself to die humbly. It would turn and leap at the hunter, even if it meant plunging into a gun’s muzzle.

He had already used all his bullets on the black-clad server. Never before had he been this frustrated or furious. In the past, no matter how much humiliation or pain he endured, he had always held it in. But tonight, he wished he had more bullets.

The roar of a motorcycle came from behind. It had a powerful engine, and the rider was incredibly skilled. Taking advantage of the moment when Lu Mingfei slowed down to turn, the rider moved in close to the Lamborghini and swung a long blade, cold as the moon, toward Lu Mingfei’s spine. The family had already promised to take care of any legal consequences for capturing the target, so killing one or two people in the process didn’t matter. The blade missed his spine by a hair, slashing open his shoulder instead. The sudden pain almost made Lu Mingfei black out, but he held on. Not only did he endure, but he also swung his empty gun at the rider’s face.

At the same time, someone approached from the other side of the car, reaching out to grab Erii from the passenger seat. But Lu Mingfei was faster by a second. He yanked Erii into his arms and, with malicious intent, violently turned the steering wheel to the left.

The Lamborghini squeezed the heavy motorcycle against the wall, sparks flying. After about ten meters, the Lamborghini suddenly accelerated, leaving the mangled motorcycle by the roadside. The rider, with a shattered leg, rolled on the ground, screaming in agony.

The sound of the rider’s screams brought Lu Mingfei unexpected delight. He kept swerving the car, forcing the pursuing motorcycles into the walls.

Another blade slashed at his back. The hunters had realized that to capture the delicate prize that was Erii, they first had to deal with the boy driving. One by one, they drew long knives hidden under their clothes or strapped to their bikes.

This time, Lu Mingfei didn’t have a gun to throw, so he tossed the 800,000 yen in cash from his pocket into the air. The swirling paper bills blinded one of the riders, causing him to lose control. His front wheel twisted, and he crashed into the side of the road.

Lu Mingfei had lost count of how many times he had been slashed. Thanks to the Lamborghini, each time someone got close, he’d slam on the gas and pull away. Some blades missed him completely, and those that hit his back weren’t fatal. His back burned with pain as if branded by a hot iron, and blood mixed with rainwater stained the white leather seats red. But instead of feeling fear, the blood loss brought him a savage joy. He thought of the Mongolian game of Buzkashi, which he had seen on TV. The most skilled rider would hold onto the sheep, no matter how hard others tried to take it away.