Dragon Raja 3; Chapter 78: Road to the Underworld (2)

Dragon Raja 3

“Look at the hotel we’re staying in, look at the champagne, fruit, and the attendants around us… Don’t you Chinese have a saying, ‘If someone shows unusual kindness, it’s either a thief or a villain’?” Caesar took a bottle of champagne out of the ice bucket. It was a 1998 Moët & Chandon—rare even for champagne collectors. Here, it was merely a small gift for VIP guests. The accompanying fruit included wax apples from Taiwan, golden mangoes from Thailand, and premium lychees called “Hanging Green” flown in from southern China. The room was filled with an elegant white sandalwood fragrance. They had only known they would stay at the Peninsula Hotel Tokyo, one of the most luxurious hotels in Tokyo. But until the VIP elevator took them directly to the top floor, with attendants bowing deeply on both sides saying, “Welcome to the Peninsula Hotel Tokyo, thank you for your hard work,” and until the sandalwood doors opened, even Caesar was astonished—the Japanese branch had booked them the Presidential Suite, and a particularly deluxe one at that. The general manager personally greeted them at the hotel’s entrance, and the executive chef was on standby, ready to prepare any late-night snack they wanted. The female attendants all wore high chignons, tight cheongsams with high slits, and moved gracefully, arranging their luggage, brewing genmaicha, and preparing their beds. In the bathroom, their bathrobes had already been pre-warmed.

“Please have a nice bath and rest well. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to let us know.” The ladies, without being told, took away their damp clothes for washing and ironing. Lu Mingfei couldn’t control his less-than-virtuous thoughts and couldn’t help but take a few more glances at the subtle curves of the cheongsam-clad attendants.

“I also feel like the maids were all trying to seduce me with their eyes!” Lu Mingfei clutched his chest, “Is the Japanese branch trying to lure me into a trap and then use hidden cameras to film a scandal?”

“That’s unlikely,” Caesar said. “If they wanted to tempt you, it wouldn’t be with women. They should just put a dakimakura of Asahina Mikuru in your room; then you’d surely do all sorts of weird poses for their cameras.”

“That hurts my pride!” Lu Mingfei protested. “I’m not the kind of guy who can only fantasize about an Asahina Mikuru body pillow!”

“You’ve already said the name of your 2D dream girl out loud!”

“Is this what you meant by Asahina Mikuru?” Chu Zihang returned from Lu Mingfei’s room, carrying a large body pillow under his arm, featuring a busty anime maid.

“It’s really there…” Lu Mingfei’s face turned dark.

Chu Zihang tossed the pillow to Lu Mingfei. “The three bedrooms in this suite are different. Caesar’s is in European style, with velvet and crystal chandeliers. Mine is furnished with natural wood, while Lu Mingfei’s room automatically plays new anime episodes with Chinese subtitles on the TV. Besides the body pillow, there’s also a large-screen computer. Clearly, they know our preferences well. They’ve investigated us and are trying to please us, but we aren’t the Principal—why would they treat us so well?”

“Because we have the Boss in our team, and the Boss’s family is influential on the School Board. The Japanese branch must be giving the Boss’s family face,” Lu Mingfei suggested.

Caesar shook his head. “Gattuso has properties all over the world, but not a single one in Japan. That shows that the Gattuso family doesn’t have good relations with the Japanese Hybrid families.”

“This is making me feel even more uneasy…” Lu Mingfei said.

Caesar poured himself a glass of champagne. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. When a man raises a glass, he should drink heartily. When he puts it down, he should be ready for a duel. The Japanese are showing us goodwill, so we’ll raise our glasses in return. Let’s see how they make their move—however they move, we counter. Maybe we can conquer not only that sunken ship in the trench, but also a group of arrogant Japanese.”

Caesar felt satisfied with the reception from the Japanese branch. With his self-confidence, optimism, and a long delay in understanding any kind of slight, he felt that he’d already scored a victory since their arrival. The once arrogant Japanese branch had bowed down to greet him. This was his first step in conquering Japan. If Anjou was the only one in the college’s history to conquer Japan, Caesar was ready to be the second one. Though a step behind Anjou, he was, after all, much younger. When Anjou had established his authority in Japan, Caesar hadn’t even been born. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t have been the first.

“How about a champagne night?” Caesar raised his glass. “To our conquest of Japan!” Unfortunately, no one shared his ambitious enthusiasm—before he knew it, Lu Mingfei had already fallen asleep holding his Asahina Mikuru pillow. The spacious sofa in the Presidential Suite was as comfortable as a bed.

With no companion to drink with, and no bright moon in the sky for him to “make a trio with,” the wine in his cup suddenly seemed a bit tasteless. He hesitated about whether to invite the slender figure by the window to join him, his hand holding the glass in mid-air for several seconds… In the end, he lowered it, got up, and walked to his European-style bedroom. He closed the door behind him, took out his phone, and sent a message to Nono. He waited a long time for her reply, but it never came. It had been a long time since he could contact her—only when she logged into the Norma system could he know that she was safe.

In the living room, Lu Mingfei’s soft breathing could be heard as he slept, while Chu Zihang stood silently by the window, looking out at the rain, which fell in an endless, gentle drizzle.

Meanwhile, in the mountains on the outskirts of Tokyo, a torrential downpour was drumming on the roof of a shrine, water cascading in graceful arcs from the eaves. Underneath the hundred-year-old cherry tree in the garden, the petals were falling like sad, ethereal snow. Men in black, with short swords in white scabbards at their waists, marched past the charred torii gate with synchronized steps. They walked up the stone steps covered in cherry blossoms and stopped under the vermilion stone wall in front of the main shrine, where they bowed deeply three times before splitting into two lines along the path.

Then, seven people entered the shrine holding paper umbrellas. They were all dressed in formal kimonos; the men wore black crested haori, and the women wore black tomesode kimonos, with white socks and wooden sandals on their feet. They walked with their eyes fixed straight ahead, their steps steady and dignified. As they passed under the burnt torii gate, the men leading them bowed deeply without saying a word, creating an atmosphere that resembled a solemn funeral. The seven individuals carrying umbrellas also bowed deeply before the vermilion stone wall. The silver-haired elder at the front lit three sticks of incense and placed them before the stone wall, watching the smoke disperse into the rainy air as he sighed softly, “It’s truly perplexing.”

Only after these seven entered the main hall did the large crowd pour into the shrine. Men in black suits stood shoulder to shoulder, their movements orderly despite the crowd. No one jostled for position or lagged behind, and everyone bowed before the stone wall before placing their umbrellas in front of the main shrine, leaving a dense sea of black umbrellas resembling a gathering of crows. Outside the shrine, nearly a hundred vehicles blocked the road, with armed men or those carrying long swords standing in the shadows, preventing anyone from approaching the vermilion structure even a step.

This was a very traditional shrine, meticulously renovated with no sense of disrepair. The only untouched parts were the charred torii gate and the vermilion stone wall, still bearing their original appearance, with even the dried bloodstains that had seeped into the cracks left unwashed. Inside the main shrine, tatami mats covered the floor, with no altar or statues in sight. Instead, the walls were lined with ukiyo-e paintings, vivid and intense, depicting a war between demons and gods. The swirling clouds, fiery explosions, and glowing phosphorescent eyes of the demonic creatures made them seem to come alive under the candlelight. Hundreds of men and women in black knelt in their designated spots, each knowing their place within this massive organization.