Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 437: Night of Wind and Tides (17)

Dragon Raja 3

A dull, oppressive rhythm enveloped the dance floor, like the sound of thousands of people beating wooden clappers in unison—a sound that sent shivers down his spine. The hallucinations buried deep in his memory burst forth, like seeds sprouting under the coaxing of those clappers. Once again, Lu Mingfei saw that terrifying hallway, stretching endlessly into the distance, twisted like a labyrinth and engulfed in flames. He had to traverse this burning corridor to survive, but he was utterly exhausted, with Chime slung over his shoulder.

Damn it! Lu Mingze must have tampered with his memories. Lu Mingfei was certain he had never been to such a place, nor walked through a burning hallway like that. But someone had been there, someone had walked that path, and now Lu Mingfei could feel that person’s rage.

Yes! It was rage! That person had walked an endless burning corridor, their body just as exhausted, on the verge of collapsing into the flames, but their heart was seething with fury, like a wild dragon. They were determined to break free from the cage that trapped them, even wishing they could sprout wings and fly!

The clappers grew louder, and the memory grew clearer. Though they were wading through water, it felt as if a scorching wind was blowing against them, burning Lu Mingfei’s entire body, the pain searing into his bones. The only thing propelling him forward was that overwhelming fury, like the roar of a great bell in his soul—a king’s spirit cursing the world from the depths of his being. No, it wasn’t just that anger; beside him, there was a girl, a small, white figure he couldn’t clearly see, supporting him step by step through the flames.

When was this? Where was this? A frail girl supporting an enraged king through a burning maze? And now, the king’s memories had been forcibly planted in Lu Mingfei’s mind by Lu Mingze, with the clappers of Osho triggering those memories.

Chime was reacting even more violently to the clappers. His body trembled uncontrollably, taut as a drawn bow. From his dying body surged a tremendous power, but it was a power he couldn’t control. He convulsed like a patient in the throes of a seizure, foaming at the mouth. His pupils flickered between gold and black, like two golden lamps flickering in the darkness.

Chime had been right all along—Osho had come for him. The voodoo-like sound of the clappers was being broadcast through the sound system, filling every corner of Takamagahara. No matter where Lu Mingfei and Chime hid, there was no escape. It was like a voodoo doll—just as African shamans used straw and bones to create a doll, embedding strands of their target’s hair into it, along with a drop of their blood to serve as the doll’s heart. From that moment on, no matter how far the victim ran, the shaman could control them by manipulating the doll. If the shaman broke the doll’s neck, the person, no matter how far away, would mysteriously die.

Osho was manipulating their voodoo dolls from some unseen place. They could struggle, but they would never escape. Long ago, that evil spirit had already taken their souls; their fates were sealed.

Now Lu Mingfei understood why the mere thought of Osho made Chime tremble in terror. The true horror of the evil spirit wasn’t its strength, but its inevitability, like fate itself.

Fate, huh? What an irritating word! Lu Mingfei might have endured it under normal circumstances, but now, it was the enraged soul of a king driving him forward!

“Osho, screw you!” Lu Mingfei roared.

He tore strips from his shirt, soaked them in water, and stuffed them into both Chime’s and his own ears, pushing them in as tightly as possible. It only helped a little. The clappers seemed to reverberate through their skulls, straight into their minds.

But with most of the sound blocked, Lu Mingfei felt somewhat better. Now it was up to Chime’s willpower, and Lu Mingfei didn’t doubt the resolve of this “wimpy” brother at that moment. The thought of seeing his brother had turned him into iron. His brother was just upstairs—if they still couldn’t meet, then this story’s writer might as well eat dirt!

Somehow, he found the strength to lift Chime onto his back and stagger forward through the water, cursing all the while. If Finger were there, he would have applauded his junior’s valor until his hands bled, though even Finger might have been embarrassed by the string of vulgarities coming from Lu Mingfei’s mouth. Hidden within those filthy words, however, was an immense rage and bitterness, as if the king buried deep in Lu Mingfei’s soul was fighting to break free.

His eyes were bloodshot, like a lion cornered and desperate.

Up ahead, he saw a faint light—a flickering emergency exit sign. Lu Mingfei’s spirits lifted. Just beyond that exit was the stairwell, and once they made it upstairs, everything would be fine. Chisei and the people he had brought were upstairs, and the sound of gunfire now seemed like music to his ears.

But suddenly, the emergency light sparked brightly, then went out. In that moment, Lu Mingfei saw the figure standing beneath the exit sign—a tall man, nearly two meters in height. If Lu Mingfei took another step forward, he would collide with the man’s muscular chest.

The figure held a curved blade, arcs of electricity crackling along its menacing edge. The creature grinned, its mouth opening wide enough to swallow their heads. It wasn’t a person—it was a death servitor! This dangerous predator could see them clearly in the dark, waiting for them to deliver themselves as prey. There was no way out. According to the script, they were never meant to escape. Even if they fought their way to the end of the maze, an unbeatable gatekeeper would be waiting for them.

“Damn it!” Lu Mingfei muttered in disbelief.

He didn’t want to accept this ending. He had struggled and fought so hard, yet it had all been for nothing. He was so close, but still an eternity away.

As he stepped back, the death servitor advanced, its eyes fixed on Chime, though Lu Mingfei tried to shield him with his body. Chime was still bleeding, and his blood, like Chisei’s, was a feast worth dying for in the eyes of the death servitor.

“Get away! Get away!” Lu Mingfei shouted, his eyes red with anger.

But what else could he do? Against a death servitor, someone like him was utterly useless. He had two short-barreled shotguns, but those wouldn’t kill a death servitor. Based on Caesar’s and Chu Zihang’s experiences, cold weapons were the most effective against death servitors, or at least rapid-fire weapons or large-caliber guns to target their weak spots. Lu Mingfei knew all this theory, but it didn’t matter—he wasn’t Caesar or Chu Zihang. He was a failure, and the best he could do was drag Chime to the end of this path.

He was unwilling to give up, but he was powerless. Why was the world so unfair? Weren’t all games supposed to have solutions? Why was this maze without an exit? Was this just a cruel joke?

Why was he being toyed with like this? Was it just because he was too weak? Did weakness really mean being wrong? Did Chime, weak as he was, not deserve to live just as much as the strong Ruri? Compared to that monstrous, powerful alter ego, didn’t he deserve to be the carefree boy in the mountains?

It was as if Lu Mingze’s voice echoed from the depths of his mind, laughing coldly, and in that moment, Lu Mingfei understood—yes, being weak was a mistake. In this world, only the strong had the right to survive.

Suddenly, someone gripped his hand, the strength nearly crushing his bones. At that moment, the death servitor let out a piercing shriek, and a gleaming blade of light slashed down toward Lu Mingfei’s head. There was no way he could dodge it.

It was Chime who had grabbed his hand, taking the two short-barreled shotguns from him. This dying man unleashed an unimaginable burst of strength, using Lu Mingfei’s shoulders as a platform to leap into the air.

Lu Mingfei was forced underwater by the immense pressure, narrowly avoiding a lethal attack. Chime kicked the emergency door, positioning it between Lu Mingfei and the Death Servitor. The Death Servitor’s second blade embedded into the door, with the metal blade firmly caught by the stainless steel. Chime landed back in the water, with a shotgun already pressed against the Death Servitor’s forehead, releasing a blast of blue flames that pierced through its skull. The immense force sent both Chime and the Death Servitor flying in opposite directions. The Death Servitor crashed into the opposite wall, severing wires as it fell, its body sparking with electricity. Chime, on the other hand, flipped mid-air and landed steadily in the water.

The air was thick with the pungent smell of mercury, as the shotgun shells had been soaked in it. Lu Mingfei could hardly believe his eyes. Just moments ago, Chime seemed on the verge of collapse, and now he had effortlessly taken down a Death Servitor. Could it be that Chime had been pretending all along?

Chime stood silently in the water, staring at Lu Mingfei with ghostly flames flickering in his eyes. “I lied to you earlier. I wasn’t so weak that I lost consciousness,” he said softly. “I was just afraid you would leave me.”

He extended his hand toward Lu Mingfei, revealing two wet balls of thread in his palm. The persistent knocking sound still echoed, splitting Lu Mingfei’s head with pain, but Chime seemed unaffected. His eyes grew brighter and brighter, and Lu Mingfei had never seen such magnificent golden eyes before, as if golden mandala flowers were blooming deep within his pupils.

He had reverted to Ruri, the dazzling and demonic figure who stood above all others.

“Don’t you…want to see your brother?” Lu Mingfei’s voice was bitter.

From the moment he pulled out the earplugs, Chime had reached a point of no return. He had accepted Osho’s call, allowing the demon to once again possess his body. Boiling dragon blood was now healing his wounds—what Chime couldn’t do, Ruri could easily accomplish.

But it was Chime, not the demon Ruri, who could meet Chisei. Chime had severed his path of retreat, sacrificing it to save Lu Mingfei’s life.

“Lu-kun, you can’t die,” Ruri said. “You’re braver than I am. You can do things I cannot. Only you can kill Osho. I don’t know how, but I believe in you. From the moment I saw your eyes, I believed in you.”

“Now, go quickly. Once I lose control, you won’t be able to leave.” He turned his head, staring intently at the Death Servitor’s corpse as he loaded new rounds into the shotgun.