Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 418: God’s Downfall (10)

Dragon Raja 3

But nearly a decade had passed. Chisei had grown from a boy into a young man, yet he remained steadfastly righteous. This unyielding righteousness now commanded Kazama Ruri’s respect.

True conviction is an unshakable will that endures time and trials. Chisei possessed such conviction, and even if it seemed naïve, Kazama Ruri believed Chisei had the power to turn naïve dreams into reality.

Suddenly, the roar of an engine broke the silence above. Kazama Ruri instinctively looked up to see a red Alfa Romeo plummet from the railway bridge. It landed squarely on the Rolls-Royce, shattering glass everywhere. Both cars’ airbags deployed. Trapped among the airbags, Kazama Ruri saw a black military dagger thrust through the sunroof, aiming straight for the back of his neck.

“What are they waiting for? Preparing their emotions before opening fire? Won’t the guns jam after soaking in all this rain?” Finger strained his ears to listen.

“You’re my second senior brother for a reason,” Lu Mingfei remarked in awe.

“I’m not your second brother—I’m your eldest!” Finger retorted.

“I was referring to the pig from Journey to the West!” Lu Mingfei clarified. “You know, the one that was being steamed by monsters and still kept talking to his brothers. He said, ‘These monsters are amateurs—they don’t know you need to cover the steamer. You have to cover it to keep the steam inside. No need for extra firewood, just let it simmer slowly, and by morning, I’ll be fully cooked.’”

“Man, that pig’s so shameless it’s hard to look at him!” Finger scoffed.

“I suddenly don’t feel like talking to you. Could you please be quiet for a bit?”

Half a glass of whiskey in, Caesar heard the sound of a high-end car engine approaching. He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

The big shot for negotiations had finally arrived. Caesar recognized the deep, elegant growl of a Rolls-Royce’s powerful engine. The mob members parted to create an opening, and a Rolls-Royce pulled up in front of Takamagahara. The driver opened the back door, and Sakurai Nanami gracefully stepped out, directly into Caesar’s line of sight, with his gun trained on her.

It was the alluring Sakurai Nanami, dressed not in her usual uniform but in a luxurious black kuro-tomesode kimono, carrying a small, elegant Hermès bag.

Caesar poured drinks into three glasses, handing one to Chu Zihang and another to Sakurai Nanami, keeping one for himself. The three stood in the rain, the drops splashing into the amber liquid.

“So, you’re tonight’s representative for the Yamata no Orochi?” Caesar raised his glass.

Sakurai Nanami held the glass, offering a silent smile. Although she was well into middle age, her smile still had the captivating charm of a teenage girl, hinting at the unmatched beauty of her youth.

Caesar could tell she was nervous. Despite the Yamata no Orochi clearly having the upper hand, Sakurai Nanami’s nervousness was palpable.

“No, I’m not qualified to conduct such negotiations. The only one who can negotiate with you is the head of the family. Unfortunately, he’s busy with other matters, so he has sent Fūma Kotarō in his place to meet with you,” Sakurai Nanami said with a slight bow. “I’m merely here to let you know that we bear no ill will toward the esteemed members of Cassell College. We’re after something that, I believe, the College also understands.”

The human barricade parted again, and Fūma Kotarō strode forward, his steps deliberate and unyielding. His expression was solemn, and with his long white eyebrows, if you dressed him in armor, he would look like a proud samurai.

“Negotiation is hard work. I wonder if an old man’s body can handle it,” Caesar said coldly, eyeing the imposing figure before him.

Fūma Kotarō remained silent, while a young woman accompanying him stood behind, holding an umbrella over his head.

“Say something! Our leader is asking you a question, didn’t you hear?” Finger swaggered out from behind the door, one foot on the step, full of bravado. He had sensed the shift in power dynamics—despite the hundreds of guns aimed at them, it seemed they were now holding the upper hand.

“Finger, would you mind grabbing a couple of chairs for us? Let’s sit and talk properly,” Caesar said.

A moment later, in the pouring rain, two chairs appeared. Caesar sat opposite Fūma Kotarō—no one else present had the right to sit. Only the negotiators would.

Behind Fūma Kotarō stood a girl dressed in white, holding an umbrella. Behind Caesar stood Chu Zihang, each person’s expression subtly intriguing, no one willing to speak first. Caesar’s crocodile leather shoes tapped a slow rhythm in the rain.

“Boss is really pulling off that mafia vibe!” Lu Mingfei whispered to Finger.

“You don’t know about the dark history of the Gattuso family? This is actually part of their family tradition. The Gattusos are also known as the Sicilian Gattuso family,” Finger said.

“The Sicilian Gattuso family?”

“Yeah, Sicily is a small island in southern Italy, famous for its olives, oranges, wine… and organized crime.”

“No way! Isn’t Boss from a prestigious family?”

“He is, but even in the mafia, there are prestigious families. A century ago, the name Gattuso was famous within the Sicilian mafia. Their men were known for ballet and double-barrel shotguns. If they had a grudge, they’d dress up in formal attire, dancing ballet while brandishing shotguns, storming down the streets of the town at midnight. They’d kick open the doors of their enemies, fill the bedrooms with gunpowder and lead, and then, still dancing, casually leave. Of course, they eventually cleaned up their image.”

“Even the mafia has to be that extra? Truly a family tradition!”

Caesar felt a pang of melancholy, hearing every word of this quiet conversation thanks to his Kamaitachi ability. He suspected that Fūma Kotarō could also hear it, which would explain his strange expression.

What a bunch of pig-headed teammates. Here he was, holding tension like a taut bowstring, trying to gain the upper hand in the standoff, while his own allies were digging up the family’s dirty laundry.

“Want to hear the dark history of the eight Orochi families next?” Finger’s insufferable voice continued, though Caesar didn’t want to listen.

“What happened to you being a professional coal washer? When did you start digging into people’s dirty history?” Lu Mingfei asked.

“Idiot! You can’t wash coal until you dig it up first, can you? Let me tell you, the beautiful Sakurai family head over there, she and the Ryoma family head have quite a relationship. Before the former Sakurai family head passed away, she was already having an affair with him. Thanks to Ryoma’s efforts, Sakurai Nanami inherited the family.”

Sakurai Nanami’s expression shifted subtly, clearly overhearing the gossip between Finger and Lu Mingfei. As a family head, her hybrid bloodline gave her heightened senses, far beyond that of normal humans.

“Whoa! Can it get any juicier?” Lu Mingfei asked.

“Of course! I’ve got firsthand information! The relationship between Fūma Kotarō and Sakurai is also quite complicated.”

“Dude, isn’t there a massive age gap?”

“Exactly! That’s what makes it a scandal! Before she married into the Sakurai family, she was known as Aiko Fuyutsuki, a famous actress under the protection of Fūma Kotarō as his goddaughter. But Miss Aiko developed feelings for the much older Kotarō, which eventually caused a huge commotion. Fūma’s wife even stormed into Aiko’s talent agency on a motorcycle, wielding a shotgun, to confront her. In the end, they reached a settlement—Aiko withdrew from the competition and left the entertainment industry, heading to England to study.”

“Fūma’s wife is like a female gangster?! Riding a motorcycle into someone’s agency? Could this get any crazier?”

“Of course! After changing her name, Aiko returned from England and married into the Sakurai family, later becoming the family head after her husband’s death. Now she’s having an affair with Ryoma, so Fūma Kotarō has to tolerate seeing his once-beloved goddaughter on equal footing with him, while she fools around with another man at his level. Can you guess why Sakurai is doing all this? Is it just midlife rebellion?”

“That’s ridiculous! As an innocent youth, I’d like to believe she’s trying to get revenge on old man Fūma, right?”

“Exactly! You’ve grasped the truth of life! Now, what do you think would happen if we leaked these stories to the Tokyo media? Wouldn’t it create a storm in the yakuza world?”

“Absolutely! But why are we gossiping at such a critical moment?”

“Simple! It’s leverage. We hold the keys to their dirty secrets, so they won’t dare act recklessly,” Finger said menacingly. “If they try anything, this info will hit the press, letting the public witness the ‘great love stories’ of the underworld!”

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