Dragon Raja 5; Chapter 160: Thunder and the Watcher (70)

Dragon Raja 5

The next moment, he slowly pulled the folding knife from the back of the old nurse’s neck. The old nurse wasn’t dead yet. Even though the blow had been fatal, the old nurse’s blood spurted out, staining the entire wall red. She slowly collapsed, her eyes wide open as she died, unable to believe what she had just experienced.

The young nurse simply stared at the scene, neither moving to intervene nor screaming. Fujiwara Nobunosuke studied the young nurse, then smiled and kissed her apple-like cheek. Only then did the wound in the young nurse’s throat open. She knelt, clutching the wound, as blood gushed from between her fingers like a fountain.

She died without making a sound.

The ward was completely silent, with only the sounds of the ventilator and heart rate monitor. Fujiwara Nobunosuke stood by the bed, gazing gently at the comatose Nono. If it weren’t for the blood covering the walls and soaking the carpet, the scene would have been quite peaceful.

This was his first and last time meeting Nono. It was different from what he had expected. He had thought that the person who could have captivated the heir so much would have to be a young Cleopatra or a reincarnated Audrey Hepburn.

She was indeed a beautiful girl. Even lying quietly under the quilt, she looked so well-proportioned. Her figure, the result of hard work, was different from those girls who relied solely on weight loss to maintain their slenderness. She had a sculpted beauty. Fujiwara Nobunosuke slid his folding knife along Nono’s curves, and he felt a little tempted.

After all, this was a bride the family didn’t want, and she’d soon be a corpse. Now that she was in his hands, heavily anestheticed, playing with her like a toy wouldn’t be a big deal, right? The woman Caesar had gone to great lengths to marry was nothing more than a toy to him. He felt a sense of transgression, and his mouth was dry.

Should I record another video as a treasure? When he thought of this, he suddenly shuddered and stopped what he was doing.

What if he had actually done something, recorded it on video, and Caesar had seen it? What if he had done something, but didn’t record it, but Caesar had seen the autopsy report? What if he had simply done nothing and just followed the elders’ instructions and slashed Nono’s throat, and Caesar had found out that he was the one who did it? What would have been the result?

All three assumptions lead to the same result: he will die in some horrible way and regret everything he has done a thousand times before he dies.

Even if the family elders joined forces, they couldn’t stop Caesar. The old guys might not even have a chance to stop him. All Caesar had to decide was whether to kill him first or the old guys first. It was really just a matter of order, and maybe even the method of death.

Is it truly airtight? A female patient slashed to death at the University of Tokyo Hospital will be on the headlines tomorrow. Caesar will know with a grain of salt that there’s a murderer behind this, and he’ll hunt them down across the world. Will the old guard then sell out Fujiwara no Nobunosuke to appease the future head of the family?

He really didn’t want to, nor did he dare, take the blame.

After hesitating for a moment, he put away the folding knife.

The more appropriate way is to transport Nono back to Rome alive and hand her over to the old guys to let them deal with her. Even if they still insist on erasing this girl, he is just an accomplice.

Fujiwara Nobunosuke couldn’t help but admire himself when he thought of this. Only third-rate killers would be proud of their killing skills. For first-rate killers, the most important data is their own survival rate.

He injected Nuonuo with another sedative, picked her up from the bed, and transferred her to a mobile stretcher nearby.

A moment later, a doctor in a white coat and a mask emerged from the intensive care unit, pushing a stretcher and greeting everyone he met. No one doubted him; there were so many doctors and nurses at the University of Tokyo Hospital that it was impossible to recognize them all, and patients changing wards was common. Furthermore, this doctor had a pair of smiling eyes.

He took the elevator down and walked calmly through the hospital lobby. Several ambulances were parked outside the hospital, their engines still on, and large groups of doctors and nurses were trotting to and from. Perhaps there had been a fire or a traffic accident, and there was more than one injured person.

What a lucky day!

Fujiwara Nobunosuke felt relieved as he pushed the stretcher to an ambulance and turned to look at the street.

It was dusk and it was drizzling outside. People holding umbrellas were walking hurriedly and neon signs in the distance were lighting up one by one.

Fujiwara Nobunosuke was about to push the stretcher into the ambulance when he suddenly stopped.

The roar of the engine was getting closer and closer. It was the sound of heavy motorcycles, not just one, but dozens or even hundreds!

In an instant, Fujiwara Nobunosuke’s pupils turned an eerie golden color, especially conspicuous in the dim evening. He turned and looked in that direction, the dense light making it almost impossible for him to open his eyes. A fleet of motorcycles, like a heavy cavalry regiment, rumbled towards them. The riders were all young, with tattoos, dyed hair, and fierce expressions on their faces.

“Bosozoku! It’s the bosozoku!” Everyone in the hospital was frightened and stumbled and ran to hide.

The bikers drove around the hospital like a moving iron wall.

Those arrogant boys looked at Fujiwara Nobunosuke viciously. They were all carrying weapons, but they were just machetes or shotguns with sawed-off barrels. They used their weapons to hit the motorcycle’s fuel tank, making a sound like a war drum.

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