Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 462: Dark Day (1)

Dragon Raja 3

Tokyo, Narita Airport – the traffic was jammed from the highway exit all the way to the departure hall.

The ports had become unusable immediately after the tsunami struck, and the highways leading out of the city were clogged with cars. The only escape route left was through the airport. People rushed to the airport while calling various ticket agencies, but neither platinum cardholders of airlines nor VIPs from travel agencies could get a ticket. Every flight had sold out within minutes of the tsunami’s arrival. Each plane took off fully loaded, the cabins packed with passengers, while the cargo holds were filled with confidential documents from government departments and precious artifacts from the Imperial Palace. Many people were flying out of Tokyo with only small carry-on bags, and a large number of suitcases were abandoned in the departure hall.

People clung to the last bit of rationality, adhering to the Japanese tradition of maintaining “order.” There was no shouting, no pushing in line. People queued calmly at security checkpoints, boarding passes in hand, their faces etched with despair. Parents held their children tightly in front of them, afraid they might get lost. At this moment, if a child were lost in the overcrowded departure hall, they might never be found again.

Everywhere, elderly parents were bidding farewell to their children, husbands to wives. Those seeing off loved ones followed them as far as the queue would allow, reluctant to part. Not every family could get enough tickets for everyone to escape, so difficult choices had to be made. The elderly, whose lives had little time left, were the first to be left behind—it wasn’t worth spending a ticket to save them. Husbands, being stronger, had a higher chance of surviving the disaster, so wives were prioritized for the flights. In families with two children, often the older one received the ticket, as they were more capable of taking care of themselves, even if they became an orphan, to carry on the family line. Those staying behind tried their best to smile and offer words of encouragement, but tears would suddenly fall as their loved ones disappeared through the security gate.

Countless hands were forcibly separated by security guards. Lovers kissed goodbye through glass partitions, tears and lipstick marks smeared on the windows.

Koeru watched the scenes of life and death partings in silence, feeling suffocated by the weight of despair. The people boarding the planes believed that those they left behind still had a chance to survive. But only Koeru knew the true nature of this disaster. To give up a plane ticket now meant choosing death.

But he couldn’t speak the truth. If he did, the last shred of rationality would collapse. Most people would abandon restraint in their fear of death, and violence would erupt over the chance to board a plane.

“Mr. Koeru? I’m Kōzō Ayakōji, a customs officer at Narita Airport. Although you’ll be flying on a private plane, you still need to go through customs and security procedures. Please follow me, and I’ll take you through the VIP channel.” The slim and professional-looking young woman took his suitcase.

Even in a crisis like this, the Japanese maintained their strict adherence to rules. No one thought to rush the VIP channel. Koeru thought to himself that if this were in Paris, men and women would already be kissing desperately, and some lunatic might be waving a gun to rob a ticket for their lover.

“Thank you,” Koeru said, glancing at Kōzō Ayakōji. Such a beautiful girl, still dutifully sending him to board the plane, unaware that she had no chance of boarding herself.

“Hurry!” Kōzō Ayakōji whispered urgently. “The situation could spiral out of control at any moment, and when that happens, the VIP channel will be useless.”

Of course, Kōzō Ayakōji knew that as an airport staff member, she didn’t have a boarding pass. But she forced herself not to think about it. She didn’t have time to be afraid—she had to help as many people escape as possible. Just like back when the underworld had blocked the customs hall, and she had tried to help Anjou leave.

When Koeru reached the VIP channel, it caused a stir. The regular lanes were packed with people, while the VIP channel was empty. A customs officer was processing the departure of an elderly man, leading to suspicions about his identity—was he a member of the royal family or the fleeing prime minister? People began shouting about the unfairness of it all, and someone threw an empty water bottle at Koeru. He kept his head down, allowing the bottle to hit him, without saying a word. There was nothing to say—he wasn’t royalty or the prime minister, but he did have some obligation to protect the city and the country. Yet now, he had given up and was fleeing in disgrace.

“Your… your passport is from the Shōwa era! This passport could be in a museum!” The customs officer processing Koeru’s paperwork was sweating profusely. “I can’t find your passport number in the system!”

Koeru was using an extremely old passport, issued long before customs used computerized systems. As a result, the passport wasn’t in the system, and the customs officer hesitated between letting him through or blocking him, unsure whether it was legal for him to board with such a passport.

Koeru turned to Kōzō Ayakōji for help, but noticed she was silently scanning the crowd, seemingly searching for someone.

Even now, Kōzō Ayakōji was still looking for that foreign old man deeply connected to the underworld, wanting to know if he had made it to the airport. Because of that old man, her tastes had recently shifted, and her friends teased her, saying she had developed a liking for older men.

She had no idea that the VIP she was assisting had been arranged by Anjou to leave Tokyo, under orders issued in the name of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government. She was merely doing her duty. It wasn’t that she had any particular feelings for Anjou; she just wanted, in this time of collapse, to help the best of Tokyo board planes and escape.

Before Koeru’s issue could be resolved, a new commotion broke out at the regular channels. A little girl was crying loudly while holding her cat because security had told her she couldn’t bring the cat on board or check it in as luggage. At a time like this, the cargo holds were filled with national treasures and confidential documents. A little girl’s cat, even if it were the emperor’s cat, would have no priority for a seat. The girl, after crying, kept promising her mother that she would hold the cat tightly, that the cat could sit with her. Her mother scolded her, exasperated. They only had one boarding pass, and even the mother didn’t have a ticket. But the airport couldn’t allow such things to happen—if they let a cat through, soon there would be people trying to bring Labradors on board.

The people in line behind the girl started to grow impatient. The security checkpoint was being blocked over a matter involving a cat, and at this point, time was literally a matter of life and death. The little girl looked nervously at the adults glaring at her, clutching her cat tightly. She seemed like a child who had grown up in comfort and privilege, always adored by the adults around her, never having experienced the feeling of being blamed by everyone. In the growing crowd of people, she stood like a small, lonely rock in a sea of resentment.

The cat was also frightened, its tail puffed up in fear as it curled in the girl’s arms, pathetically licking its owner. In this world, only this little human cared whether it lived or died.

Suddenly, the girl held up her cat and her boarding pass to the security personnel, saying, “Then I’ll give my ticket to Lulu.”

For a few seconds, the crowd fell silent, then the cursing resumed. To the adults, this was just another childish attempt to make a fuss. Some said, “Let the cat on the plane and leave her behind.” Others suggested calling security to separate her from the cat. This wasn’t a time for sentimentality, nor was it some animal rights charity gala. No one was willing to waste even a second for a cat.

Only Koeru felt a pang, as if needles were pricking his heart. Through the gaps in the crowd, he saw the girl’s eyes—filled with fear, tears, and a plea for help. Koeru realized that she was genuinely scared but couldn’t bring herself to give up her cat. Perhaps she was being stubborn, or maybe she really would give up her spot on the plane for her cat. Adults often have a hard time understanding the thoughts of children. In the adult world, there are many things: cigarettes, alcohol, women, parties, fashion. But in the child’s world, there are only a few things—her stuffed toys that accompany her to sleep, and her cat, who has been with her for so long. She couldn’t bear to let go of that cat, just like parents couldn’t bear to abandon their children.

Every life is short, and how many people can accompany you for so many years in your life?

Koeru’s phone rang. He answered it, surprised that someone was calling him in such a situation. Only a few people had his number—typically just the delivery guys for noodles and pork bones.

“Have you arrived at the airport?” Anjou’s voice came through the line, with the sound of roaring wind and crashing waves in the background.

“Yes, yes. I’m at customs, going through the procedures.” Koeru licked his lips. “Thank you… thank you, Anjou. I know I’ve disappointed you.”

“Disappointed, my foot. I never had much hope for you anyway,” Anjou said coldly. “But there’s something I wanted to tell you. I had originally planned to tell you after you left Japan, but after thinking about it, I’ll tell you now. According to our intel, you might have two sons!”

Koeru froze, his mind going blank for a moment. The girl’s crying, the crowd’s yelling, and the cat’s meowing—all sounds vanished from his ears. Sons? How could this be? Where did they come from? He had lived alone for so many years, given up on life, and now, out of nowhere, he suddenly had two sons?

“You heard me right. You have two sons, and they’re both in Tokyo. But neither of you knows about the other,” Anjou repeated.

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