Dragon Raja 4; Chapter 116: Fun at the Mental Hospital (5)

Dragon Raja 4

Lu Mingze, holding a pitch-black umbrella, slowly emerged from the rain. “Brother, you need to calm down. You can’t just brute-force your way through fate. Take a break, and we’ll reload the save.”

“Hold on!” Lu Mingfei marched over and kicked the shadow that had attacked Nono. “You’re finished! I’ve got my eye on you! Next time, I’m killing you first!”

Lu Mingfei opened his eyes, struggling to sit up, only to remember that he was still in a straitjacket.

It was still that quiet hospital room. Rain pattered against the window, and the snores of Uncle Tricycle, Immortal, and Station Chief echoed around him.

He mentally reviewed the failure. The difficulty of Gamma Spring was insane. From the start, he had been thrown into an enemy camp, surrounded by high-level monsters. The boss had an instant kill move that bypassed defenses, and the female protagonist had low defense but recklessly charged in, dishing out damage. But after a few hits, she was dead, and then the game was over. The worst part was, you couldn’t even level up…

“Stay calm! Stay calm!” Lu Mingfei muttered to himself. “It’s a game with save points. There’s always a way to win.”

Reflecting on how he had failed the first time, he realized he had been too impulsive, trying to go all out without properly protecting Nono. Next time, he would need to stick by her side, not leaving her for even a second.

He quickly closed his eyes, focused on his breathing, and prepared to reload his save… But the more he stressed about it, the harder it was to fall asleep, and the effects of the sedatives had worn off.

“Lu Mingze! Lu Mingze! Think of a way to help me fall asleep!” Lu Mingfei shouted into the room, frustrated.

“Is the emperor requesting one of his concubines to keep him company?” Immortal’s sharp voice cut through the darkness.

“What are you talking about?” Lu Mingfei was baffled.

“When the emperor can’t sleep at night and asks for a way to help him sleep, isn’t that just asking for a concubine to share his bed?”

Since Lu Mingfei had moved into the ward, Immortal had taken to calling him “Emperor,” claiming that he was a supreme ruler in the making, though still in his latent dragon phase. One day, he would rise to the heavens.

Lu Mingfei thought, How unlucky! Why am I even talking to him? I forgot this is a mental hospital!

“Stop shouting. The enemy is cruel and cunning. They won’t let us sleep. They want to break our will!” Station Chief had also woken up, staring at the ceiling with a determined expression, as if he were tied to a torture rack. “Who’s your leader? Once China is liberated, and we’re free, I’m going to have a word with them about your weak resolve!”

“You’re all making stuff up! My guess is he just needs to pee!” Uncle Tricycle chimed in. “Isn’t that right, nephew?”

Lu Mingfei was so frustrated he couldn’t even speak. At that moment, the nurse stormed into the room, barking, “What’s all this noise? Anyone who’s not sleeping will get a shot!”

Everyone in the ward immediately quieted down, except for Lu Mingfei, who eagerly looked at the nurse. “I want a shot! I want a shot!”

He knew that the shot before bed was a sedative. Unlike the sleeping pills at home, this injection worked instantly, letting him reload his save almost immediately.

The nurse eyed the new patient suspiciously. She thought to herself, The head nurse was right. This guy looks normal, but he’s actually the most troublesome—he’s not even scared of injections.

“You want a shot? Are you sure you’re sick?” the nurse asked.

“Of course I’m sick,” Lu Mingfei replied, but then immediately realized his mistake. “I mean, yes, I’m very sick! I need the shot right now!”

“What’s the issue?” The nurse grew more suspicious.

Lu Mingfei paused, then hastily made something up: “I feel like there are two people in my head arguing!”

The nurse thought, The head nurse nailed it again. Arguing voices in his head—that’s classic schizophrenia.

“What kind of people?” the nurse pressed.

Lu Mingfei hesitated, then improvised: “One is a noble heir from an Italian aristocratic family. He keeps shouting in my head, ‘No cage should ever confine a true man—except the one created by the girl you love!’ The other is a stoic Chinese guy who doesn’t say much but keeps repeating things like, ‘If you don’t believe you can do something, then you really can’t. Because if you lose hope, how can you accomplish anything?’ The two of them won’t stop fighting, and it’s driving me crazy. I need the shot!”

The nurse nodded sympathetically. “Wait here for a bit. I’ll go get the medication. After this injection, you’ll be able to get a good night’s sleep.”

She thought to herself, This new patient really has it tough. He’s not just one person with a mental illness—there are two more living in his head!

Lu Mingfei let out a sigh of relief, thinking, Pretending to be mentally ill isn’t that hard. My seniors are all crazier than I am!

As the sedative slowly entered his body, his eyelids grew heavier, and the nurse’s face gradually disappeared into the thickening darkness. He exhaled with relief. “Thank you.”

Gamma Spring, Second Reload: night, storm, high overpass.

Time was still frozen. Odin and his minions stood as motionless as silent warrior statues. Lu Mingze was busy painting on the mask of one of the shadowy figures with a bucket of paint.

“What are you doing? Why hasn’t the game started yet?” Lu Mingfei shook out his wrists, bouncing on the spot to loosen up. He knew he’d need to give it his all, and warming up would help.

“I’m helping you out.” Lu Mingze painted one shadow to look like a Peking opera character, and another to resemble a Japanese warlord. “Brother, you have to take things step by step. The first step is to break through the encirclement. Focus on the most dangerous enemies among the minions—the ones we call ‘gold-tier enemies.’ Don’t let them get close, or better yet, take them out first.”

“Good point. I need to control the pace.”

“Exactly,” Lu Mingze sighed dramatically. “See how good I am to you, and you still pushed me down the stairs. My heart is broken!”

“You pushed me down the stairs first!” Lu Mingfei retorted, still trying to be tough, though inwardly he was grateful to the little devil.

He had been so worried that he forgot the true essence of a game—no matter how good your skills are, accurate information is always more important.

Once you had all the intel, you could optimize your strategy—know which enemies to backstab, which ones to face head-on, and which to kite.

He walked among the shadowy figures, memorizing the positions of the gold-tier enemies. As he seriously observed these stronger enemies, green data appeared above their shoulders, showing their attack, defense, agility, and special skills, some of which he couldn’t quite understand. When he first entered this battlefield, Lu Mingze had demonstrated this feature. The game called it “main character vision”—if the player’s scouting ability was strong enough, they could see through the enemy’s stats. But at that time, Lu Mingfei hadn’t paid much attention to it.

“What’s an attack power of 300 like?” Lu Mingfei read the stats of one of the gold-tier enemies.

“A strong human fighter has around 100 attack power. 300 means its attack is three times stronger than a human warrior.”

“And who counts as a strong human fighter?”

“People like the Taiji master Yang Luchan. Tyson would have about 96. If we brought Captain America into our system, he’d probably have 300.”

“A gold-tier enemy’s attack power is equal to Captain America’s?” Lu Mingfei groaned, covering his face.

“Exactly. It could one-shot your Senior Sister. She’s got decent attack power, but her defense is pretty weak.”

Lu Mingfei approached Nono, and green text appeared above her shoulders as well: “Height: 170cm; Weight: 49kg; Measurements: B34-W24-H34.”

“What kind of nonsense is this?” Lu Mingfei grumbled. “Are these combat stats or a pet’s details?”

“With your Senior Sister’s combat strength, any gold-tier enemy could easily one-shot her. You might as well treat her as eye candy.”

Lu Mingfei moved closer to Odin. Above his shoulders floated a line of stats: “Attack: ? / Defense: ? / Agility: ?”

“Why are they all question marks?” Lu Mingfei was shocked. “Is it because my scouting level isn’t high enough?”

“Same as in the game—when an opponent’s level is way above yours, you can’t read their stats. Don’t even think about challenging Odin; it’d be suicide.”

Lu Mingfei nodded. Games often had characters like that—ones you could technically fight, but in situations where their overpowering strength made any effort pointless.

“Get ready, Brother. Good luck!” Lu Mingze waved his hand and turned to leave.

Lu Mingfei watched his little brother’s retreating figure. Green text appeared above Lu Mingze’s shoulders as well: “Attack: ? / Defense: ? / Agility: ?”

“What about you and him? Between you two, who’s the real boss?” Lu Mingfei asked.

“That depends—on whose battlefield and in whose world.” Lu Mingze’s form scattered like wind-blown dust.

The world trembled slightly. Suspended raindrops began to shake, long hair swayed gently, gunfire slowly expanded, and a deep, majestic horse’s whinny echoed through the silence.

Someone started singing a traditional opera piece: “The great hero descends the hill for vengeance, the road winding and the moonlight dim. A journey of sorrow, yet courage remains, as I dash through the camp with swift legs.”

Lu Mingfei was startled, thinking, What kind of monster is this? Anyone who shows up with their own background music is never easy to deal with!

A figure with a blue face, red beard, and a pheasant feather headpiece emerged slowly from the darkness. His muscular form, clad in dark blue, was as powerful as a tiger or leopard, and he wielded twin tiger-head hooks.

Lu Mingfei thought, Lu Mingze, are you helping me or messing with me? I know nothing about Peking opera, but I’ve at least heard of ‘Blue-faced Dou Erdun Steals the Imperial Horse.’ The shadow that had been painted with a blue opera mask had now transformed into Dou Erdun, a martial arts master known for his hardening techniques.

As for the one painted as a Japanese warlord, it was drawing a nearly two-meter-long katana from its waist. The blade gleamed like a mirror, and the iron armor clanged loudly. Behind its red tengu mask, its golden eyes glowed fiercely.

“Well done, Lu Mingze, you really know how to play!” Lu Mingfei gave a thumbs-up to Dou Erdun. “I’m just glad you didn’t paint me an Erlang Shen. Thanks for that!”

He leaped into the air, diving straight into the midst of the shadowy figures. Dou Erdun and the red-faced warlord calmly shifted into a perfect offensive and defensive stance, exuding the aura of martial masters.

But Lu Mingfei didn’t pay them any mind. He zigzagged between them, flashing between the shadows, and appeared behind one of the nameless shadow figures. He plunged both knives into its shoulders and gave it a sharp slap down.

The shadow dropped to its knees, and Lu Mingfei pulled out his Desert Eagle, firing several rounds into the shadow’s neck, black blood splattering across his face. He kicked the shadow over, wiped the black blood from his cheek, and said, “I told you, you were the first one I’d kill. No one else gets to die before you.”

Series Navigation

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