Dragon Raja 4; Chapter 56: Patient Zero (6)

Dragon Raja 4

“You want to be a free pig, but if you kill everyone who gets in your way, isn’t that freedom a bit too costly?” came Lu Mingfei’s voice through the earpiece.

His tone was still casual, but with an undercurrent of coldness.

“When you planted bombs in the old palace, did you think about your men? About those dancing girls?” Lu Mingfei continued. “They’re dead now. Were they the red carpet leading to your freedom?”

Porquinho froze. He hadn’t thought about it at all, nor did he care. Those samba girls were from the nightclubs he owned, mere commodities, decorations, and tools in his eyes. He often dressed them up and gave them as gifts to politicians who protected him, or as rewards to his loyal subordinates. His position in Rio de Janeiro had been earned through his ruthlessness, but also paved by the sacrifices of his fearless men and sweet young women.

“Do you feel sorry for those cheap women?” Porquinho sneered. “If you hadn’t pushed me so hard, they could’ve been yours!”

“You know why I hate Tachibana so much? It’s not just because he hurt my friends, but because he once told me some theory about ghouls. He said this world is like a dark forest, where everyone is part of the food chain. If you don’t eat people, then you’re stupid.” Lu Mingfei spoke calmly. “I really hated the way he preached. So what if the world really is survival of the fittest? Didn’t he end up dead at someone’s hands anyway? In the end, he was just food too. And he who is food has no right to lecture others.”

An engine roared in the distance, and Porquinho’s eyes narrowed as he looked toward the sound. In the moonlight, Lu Mingfei appeared, sitting astride a small, battered motorcycle. There were still several hundred meters between him and the building where Porquinho stood. Lu Mingfei calmly prepared himself, tying two short blades in sheaths to his forearms and pulling two silver Desert Eagles from his travel bag, which he slung across his back. Even though Porquinho could easily crush Victoria’s bones with a little more force, Lu Mingfei took his time, like a chef preparing his ingredients.

Porquinho grabbed Victoria by the throat and lifted her into the air with a sneer. She was his prey, his beautiful lamb, and he was waiting for Lu Mingfei to come to her rescue.

Lu Mingfei revved the engine, the motorcycle rearing up before launching forward, bouncing between the buildings like an enraged rabbit.

While the entire action team was eagerly anticipating this ultimate showdown, they were stunned to see Porquinho hurl Victoria at Lu Mingfei like a baseball. Lu Mingfei had no choice but to brake his motorcycle hard and catch Victoria in his arms. He stared in disbelief as Porquinho turned and jumped off the roof, sprinting deep into the alley to escape. The Rio de Janeiro crime lord, Hercules, whom even Tachibana Masamune considered a vital asset, had abandoned his pride and fled without a fight—all because of a few words from Lu Mingfei.

Mingfei was equally speechless, holding Victoria in his arms as he watched Porquinho’s retreating figure in a daze. Suddenly, he felt the girl in his arms squirm, and he quickly let go once he realized it.

“Porquinho is escaping toward the slums on the hill. All units, commence pursuit immediately!” Eva’s voice came through his earpiece.

Victoria, battered and dusty from the throw, struggled to her feet and hastily tidied her appearance. She then noticed Lu Mingfei frowning.

The situation had become tricky again. Rio de Janeiro, known as the “City of God,” was also a city of chaos and violence. Millions of impoverished people lived in makeshift homes built on the hills surrounding the city. The slums were like a labyrinth, with tin shacks linked together and roads that crisscrossed in confusion. Guns and drugs were rampant there, and even the police didn’t dare to enter. While Porquinho was a notorious criminal, he was seen as an anti-establishment hero by the young men in the slums. In many ways, the slums were his stronghold. If he made it there, capturing him could take weeks.

Lu Mingfei knelt in front of Gonzalez, patting his face and staring into his eyes. “Listen, man! Don’t die! There’s still so much in this world worth living for!”

Gonzalez’s pupils, which had started to dilate, suddenly brightened, as if he had found a burst of energy. Victoria nearly shed tears, but then Gonzalez let out a loud wail.

His cries were actually a good sign, indicating that his vitality had returned. A dying brain releases large amounts of pain-relieving chemicals as a defense mechanism.

After he finished wailing, Gonzalez stared in disbelief at Lu Mingfei. He had been reluctant to have the “Dragon of the Execution Bureau” interrupt his time alone with Victoria, but somehow, that guy’s words had stirred a powerful will to live inside him, pulling his consciousness back from the brink of death. Did he really trust Lu Mingfei that much? Could just one encouraging phrase bring him back to life? He glanced at Victoria again. She was gazing at Lu Mingfei’s back, her legs together and toes slightly turned inward—a very British, ladylike posture, with a hint of nervousness. Yet when she was with Gonzalez, she was always chewing gum, carefree and relaxed. Gonzalez didn’t know whether to feel comforted or dejected. No matter how brave or proud you might be, girls always seemed to instinctively look toward the brightest star.

“Thank you… Thank you, Senior Ricardo…” Gonzalez forced out, struggling to speak.

Lu Mingfei patted his shoulder. “As long as you’re okay. Honestly, I was just joking with you. The older you get, the less interesting this world becomes… Haha!”

Meanwhile, Porquinho was barreling through the streets, knocking over garbage cans in the alley and using parked cars as springboards to vault over walls. Sometimes, he simply crashed straight through the walls, leaving gaping holes behind.

This was Rio, his turf. He knew every alleyway and could name most of the small-time thugs who collected protection fees. While he couldn’t face the college head-on, if he wanted to escape, even the college’s hounds wouldn’t catch so much as his pig tail. As he passed through, local thugs blocked the roads with various beat-up vehicles. Even if the police arrived, it would take them quite some time to clear the mess. He had been somewhat wary of the helicopter, but it hadn’t followed him.

In the distance, he saw the iron arch gate. There were no walls on either side, just a symbolic gate made of scrap metal, with words from the Bible painted above: “A wise man builds his house on the rock.”

This was the boundary between the slums on the hill and the affluent district below. In front of the gate lay a broad stretch of land, crisscrossed by monorail tracks that shimmered in the moonlight.

Porquinho quickened his pace in excitement, but the clanging sound of metal rapidly approached. At the same time, four streetcars came from both sides, blocking his path. Normally, these streetcars only had a few carriages attached, but now they stretched endlessly. The cars were brightly lit, but there were no passengers or drivers inside. Porquinho stopped, his gaze drifting over the tops of the cars as he stared silently at the gate. What had seemed within arm’s reach now felt impossibly distant, almost unreal.

He knew exactly what had happened. Eva’s influence had spread into every corner of the city. Every network-connected device with an internal chip was her domain, and these streetcars had been summoned by her. But they weren’t meant to stop him—Porquinho’s physical strength was more than enough to leap over the cars or smash through them. They were meant to keep innocent people away from the final battlefield, forming an invisible iron cage around him.

Suddenly, he lost all will to run or fight. The agitation brought on by the evolutionary drug faded significantly, and he found himself staring blankly at the lights atop the hill.

Over the years, he had often driven his Cadillac to the slums, throwing money at the poor to gain their favor. The noisy, chaotic place had once sheltered him for several months. He was an orphan, expelled from the college with nowhere to go, not even a proper ID—the American passport he had once been so proud of was arranged by the college, and when he was expelled, it had been revoked. He spent his days in a daze, hanging out with the bad boys of the slums, smoking stolen cigarettes, and drinking homemade liquor. He fought for those boys and called them brothers. On clear nights, they would climb to the highest point in the slum and look down at the brightly lit wealthy district below, swearing that one day they would prove themselves there.

Later, he truly dominated this city. But was he the savior of those bad kids, or did he succeed by stepping over them?

Lu Mingfei, enraged by the deaths of the samba girls, was mocked by Porquinho for his naivety, but Porquinho himself felt confused. Nietzsche once said that those who fight dragons become dragons themselves—when had he turned into one? The girls he saw as disposable commodities, many of them from the slums, had once looked out at the brightly lit city, just like he had, dreaming of moving down from the hills through beauty and effort.

The bell rang as he slowly turned around, gazing upward. On top of the abandoned church’s bell tower, a shadow sat astride a small motorcycle—no one knew how he had gotten it up there.

The falcon released by the college had already arrived. No matter how much a wild boar ran in circles, the falcon would eventually swoop down.

“Give me a way out, and I’ll repay you!” Porquinho shouted.

Lu Mingfei pointed to the sky. “Don’t waste your time, someone’s watching.”

Porquinho let out a dry laugh—Lu Mingfei was right. The college secretary’s all-seeing eye was constantly on them. Both the prey and the hunter were just pieces on a chessboard.

Porquinho’s bones cracked and popped as a fierce light flashed in his eyes. Killing the Student Union president was his last chance for survival! In the action team, only Lu Mingfei posed a real threat to him.

The reason he had abandoned Victoria and fled was because he had faintly understood the meaning behind Lu Mingfei’s words. The “someone” who killed Herzog was probably this strange Student Union president. He wasn’t just spewing empty threats but stating a terrifying fact. When he was laid-back, he could be really casual, but when he got serious, there was an inexplicable intensity in him, as if he was speaking through gritted teeth. While Tachibana Masamune’s bloodline wasn’t much to speak of, he was the one who ultimately seized the throne of the White Empress. That meant “someone” might have killed a supreme being… Porquinho didn’t want to bet his life on that possibility.

Lu Mingfei snapped his fingers. “Play a song, Eva, something explosive.”