Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

The bottom of a Japanese-style wooden bath tub is made of iron, which can be placed directly over a fire. It works on a similar principle to the large pot used by the monsters to cook Tang Sanzang in "Journey to the West." As long as the firewood is kept burning, the water will remain hot.

Lu Mingfei silently watched Caesar's retreating figure. His tall, muscular physique was accentuated by a bright purple, form-fitting suit. As he wielded the machete, the muscles in his shoulders, back, and arms clearly rippled beneath the fabric. The collar was open, and with each movement, the cleavage of his pectoral muscles was faintly visible. The scene was too surreal; Lu Mingfei felt his nerves needed a serious overhaul to bear it.

He took a deep breath, pinched his nose, curled up, and slowly sank to the bottom of the water. Warmth and tranquility enveloped him, the water gurgling in his ears, blocking out some of the sounds from the outside world. It was as if, in this way, he could temporarily escape this strange world.

A few seconds later.

"Good heavens!" Lu Mingfei burst out of the water, splashing everywhere. "I forgot to ask you! Boss, what the hell is this place?!"

Yeah, right? Is this the time to be thinking about all this nonsense? They're wanted by the police all over Japan, hunted by powerful yakuza groups, their lives hanging by a thread, their future uncertain! Who has the time to sit here in a hot bath, wallowing in self-pity and discussing the philosophy of life?!

"This is Takamagahara," Caesar said calmly without turning his head, splitting open another piece of firewood.

"Takamagahara?" Lu Mingfei was bewildered. Wasn't that ancient city already slid into a dark crack in the earth's crust, sinking into the magma of the mantle layer? If it hadn't been melted by the high temperature yet.

“It is indeed Takamagahara, a place with the same name,” Caesar explained, finally turning around to look at Lu Mingfei with his deep blue eyes, lined with blue-purple eyeliner. “In Japanese mythology, Takamagahara is the heavenly realm where the gods reside, a place like paradise. So, in a sense,”

He opened his hand, the rhinestone ring sparkling in the firelight. "We are in heaven."

"Boss, you're getting more and more cryptic," Lu Mingfei muttered, glancing around the bathroom again.

Although the furnishings were in the style of a Japanese bathhouse, appearing somewhat rustic, every detail exuded luxury, even a decadent and indulgent kind of luxury. The pine wood panels on the walls had beautiful, artistic grain, and the wooden tub he was using for bathing had a deep, agate-like red color and produced a clear, resonant sound when tapped, clearly not a cheap item.

The ukiyo-e prints hanging all around were erotic, depicting men and women entwined in half-undone kimonos, with delicate brushstrokes and rich colors. Even the incense burner in the corner was a life-sized sandalwood carving of a seated Guanyin, with lowered eyes and the rim of the oil bowl she held gleaming with a dark golden luster in the firelight, likely gilded.

“It’s hard for me to explain to you in just a few words.” Caesar stood up, took a soft white bathrobe from the shelf next to him, and threw it to Lu Mingfei. “Come out with me and you’ll understand.”

Lu Mingfei took the bathrobe, climbed out of the wooden tub, hastily dried himself, and put on the bathrobe. The bathrobe was of excellent quality, absorbent and soft.

Following Caesar out of the bathroom, they found themselves in a long corridor whose style abruptly changed. Underfoot was gleaming teak flooring, and the walls were adorned with classical European oil paintings. One painting depicted a naked young man drawing water from an ancient well, his muscles sculpted with exquisite detail and masterful use of light and shadow. Above, a series of dazzling crystal chandeliers illuminated the entire corridor as if it were daytime.

The simplicity and gentleness of Japanese style were instantly replaced by the extravagance and straightforwardness of European style, with the only commonality being their high cost.

"My God, boss, you got another credit card?" Lu Mingfei felt increasingly uneasy as he walked, his footsteps barely making a sound on the soft, heavy carpet. "This place looks ridiculously expensive."

"Hmm," Caesar responded briefly, continuing on his way. "It is indeed expensive."

At the end of the corridor stood an elevator with bronze doors engraved with intricate floral patterns. The two stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed silently. The elevator ascended smoothly, and a slight feeling of weightlessness washed over them. At the same time, a faint, rhythmic, and energetic melody seeped down from above, growing clearer and clearer.

It's the kind of electronic dance music with strong drumbeats and exciting melodies, mixed with vague cheers and screams.

Lu Mingfei tensed up; something was off about the atmosphere.

“Whatever you see in a moment,” Caesar suddenly said in a low voice, his voice particularly clear in the cramped elevator car, “don’t scream or make a fuss. Remember, the rules here are very strict.”

Lu Mingfei stared in astonishment at Caesar's cold, hard profile. Rules? This didn't sound like something the Caesar Gattuso he knew would say. Wasn't that Italian nobleman always the epitome of "I am the rule"? He often disregarded even the rules of Kassel College.

"Ding."

The elevator arrived, and the doors slowly slid open to both sides.

The deafening music, the heatwave mixed with the smells of various perfumes and alcohol, and the dazzling rotating lights crashed down on us like a tsunami.

Lu Mingfei was so startled by the sudden sound and light that his vision blurred and he took a half step back.

The first thing that catches the eye is an incredibly spacious and remarkably high-ceilinged area. It looks like a super luxurious nightclub. Countless figures are dancing wildly on the dance floor, the lights flashing and shimmering with vibrant colors. The second and third floors are filled with private boxes and bleachers, teeming with people.

Then, his gaze was involuntarily drawn to an obstacle less than three meters in front of the elevator.

It was a pair of buttocks facing away from them, swaying gently to the music. They were tightly encased in a pair of shiny, metallic hot pants, their curves surprisingly full and perky, swaying from side to side with the rhythm, exuding a primal and direct allure.

Lu Mingfei's mind went blank for a moment.

"My God!" he blurted out, his voice drowned out by the music, but the shock on his face was crystal clear. "It's so big, whose is it?! Don't just leave valuables lying around!"

Chapter 612 This is Takamagahara (Part 2)

"I told you to stop howling like a banshee!" Caesar reacted quickly, covering Lu Mingfei's mouth as he almost cried out, and whispered in his ear, "Be polite, say hello to Fujiwara-senpai."

The enormous buttocks that had occupied his entire field of vision turned around, and Lu Mingfei groaned inwardly: Even from the front, it's still an enormous buttocks! Senior, are you a monster who specializes in cultivating buttocks supernatural powers?

The burly man, known as "Fujiwara-senpai," glanced down at Lu Mingfei. His eyes, lined with thick black eyeliner, held no emotion. He simply stepped aside slightly, clearing the way to the edge of the dance floor.

It wasn't until he stepped back two paces that Lu Mingfei could get a full look at this senior: nearly two meters tall, weighing at least 200 kilograms, wearing a pair of specially made stilettos that looked to be at least size 47, and his bright purple tight mini-skirt with an astonishing waistline stretched taut like a balloon about to burst.

With every gesture, his massive, fleshy body rippled like waves, creating a visually striking sight akin to a mountain of flesh descending to earth. Strangely, his face, covered in flesh and exuding an imposing aura, coupled with his current cold expression, subtly revealed a majestic and awe-inspiring appearance, like a guardian deity in a Shingon Buddhist temple.

"Hello, senior! You've worked hard, senior!" Lu Mingfei nodded and bowed almost instinctively, fully demonstrating his survival instinct when facing formidable figures since childhood.

Caesar also showed great respect to the fat man, bowing slightly in acknowledgment, before grabbing Lu Mingfei's arm and dragging him away from the elevator entrance.

Fat Fujiwara-senpai quickly threw himself back into his passionate hip-shaking dance, his fleshy body swaying and blending into the decadent atmosphere around him.

The atmosphere on the dance floor was even more unrestrained than Lu Mingfei initially perceived. Everywhere was filled with the strong scents of alcohol, perfume, and hormones.

A woman with bleary eyes, drunk, embraced a man who was also staggering, and playfully poured an entire glass of champagne into his open collar, eliciting screams and whistles.

Amid cheers, the handsome lead dancer suddenly ripped open his silk shirt, revealing his well-defined chest. Immediately, waiters rushed forward with trays filled with silver glitter, and the women around him reached out their slender hands, dabbed in the glitter, and, in a state of intoxication and excitement, left clear silver handprints on his sweaty chest and back.

The main lights suddenly went out, leaving only a few beams of pale blue fluorescent light that swept across the crowd, illuminating the male dancers. The layers of silver palm prints glowed eerily in the darkness, like mysterious, unique tattoos.

“Basara King!” In a circular booth by the dance floor, a young woman in a black sundress suddenly sprang up like a spring, her steps unsteady as if walking on cotton, yet she precisely twisted to Caesar's side, wrapped her arms around his neck without a word, and planted a kiss on his gold-leaf-painted cheek, reeking of alcohol.

Caesar, accustomed to this, wore an impeccable, slightly aloof yet alluring smile. He casually took the half-glass of champagne offered by the woman, downed it in one gulp, and then gently but undeniably supported her shoulder, turning her around and softly pushing her back into her equally tipsy group of female companions. His movements were as fluid as if he had performed a standard social etiquette.

“Boss, these people here look somewhat familiar to you?” Lu Mingfei leaned closer to Caesar, lowering his voice, his unease growing stronger. “Could this be some kind of high-end private club your Gattuso family owns in Japan? The members-only kind?” He tried to find a less alarming explanation.

The dance floor was surrounded by a ring of high-end sofas and semi-enclosed booths, almost all of which were occupied. Elegantly dressed women, adorned with jewels, reclined like queens on the large sofas, each accompanied by one or two radiant and attentive gentlemen.

The women chatted and laughed loudly, frequently raising their glasses, their faces beaming with satisfaction and a slight buzz from being carefully flattered and pleased, their eyes glazed over, a sight that could be described as bewitching and intoxicating.

The men, on the other hand, appeared polite and charming, sometimes leaning down to whisper in their female companions' ears, eliciting giggles and playful punches; other times they would make a witty remark, prompting their female companions to pretend to slap them, while onlookers would laugh and cheer.

Bottles of champagne and whiskey were brought to the table in a continuous stream and quickly emptied. Waitstaff were constantly moving around, and every now and then, women would casually pull out their credit cards from their handbags without even looking and toss them to a waiter with a nonchalant gesture, clearly wanting more drinks.

Lu Mingfei's gaze swept over the wrists, waists, and tables of the men who were chatting and laughing... Suddenly, he realized where the strong sense of unease came from: here, he only saw women paying.

Those elegant gentlemen, who seemed to control the atmosphere, didn't once make a move to take out their wallets or credit cards. Their value didn't seem to lie in the payment of money, but rather...

"Ahem, watch for a little longer, and you'll understand," Caesar's voice interrupted his thoughts.

He pulled Lu Mingfei away into the shadows behind the heavy velvet curtain, where they could see the stage and most of the booths but were less likely to be noticed by the revelers.

Then, the rousing samba music finally came to an end. The noise subsided abruptly, and what followed was a solitary, serene melody, imbued with a strong sense of antiquity, resembling a flute or an ocarina, its mournful notes lingering long.

The moment the music started, it was as if a bleak autumn wind swept through the hall, instantly pulling people from the dazzling modern nightclub to a desolate and lonely old bridge in ancient Japan, where the moonlight was cold and desolate.

The circular stage in the center of the dance floor slowly rose, and the curtain opened to both sides. On the stage stood a solitary and imposing figure. All the lights in the hall suddenly went out, leaving only a single, bright, moon-like lamp that shone down straight down from above, enveloping the figure.

He wore a pure white shirt and dark blue trousers. His long hair was loose and flowing, covering half of his face, revealing only his well-defined jawline and tightly pursed lips. A blower seemed to be blowing in a flurry of almost real cherry blossom petals from somewhere, the snow-white petals dancing in the solitary light, swirling around him.

In the wind, his wide sleeves fluttered, revealing his well-defined, muscular forearms.

The man began to move slowly. He removed his white shirt, the movements deliberate and ceremonial, then casually tucked the sleeves into his waistband, revealing a well-defined upper body with firm, yet not exaggerated, muscles. His chest rose and fell slightly with his breath, gleaming like ivory in the cold light. Then, he reached out and grasped the hilt of the long sword that had been resting at his side.

"Chong-"

The clear, resonant sound of the sword even drowned out the ancient music in the background. The action of drawing the sword was not swift, as if what was drawn was not a murder weapon, but a piece of moonlight that had been sealed away.

"Wow!" The audience erupted in applause, mixed with excited gasps from the women.

Chapter 613 Chu Zihang's nickname is 'Ukyo'

Amidst falling cherry blossoms and solitary sunlight, the man began to wield his sword. The sword moved with his body, his body moved with his steps, advancing and retreating with measured precision. Chopping, slashing, parrying, thrusting... the movements were concise and sharp, not a flashy performance routine, but a swordsmanship with clear traces of real combat.

Logically speaking, real combat techniques often prioritize efficiency and may not be very entertaining, but at this moment, excited screams erupted from the audience from time to time.

The women's burning gazes lingered more on the taut back muscles of the man as he wielded his knife, the clearly defined lines of his sides as he twisted his waist, and the lonely yet sensual beauty embodied in his slender yet sinewy body, as supple and powerful as bamboo branches in the wind.

Lu Mingfei stared in disbelief. That bare upper body, that familiar figure and rhythm of movement.

"Boss," he stiffly turned his head, his face filled with the last bit of struggle and hope, his tone so sincere it was almost pleading, "Do you think I still have a chance to travel back to my original world? The normal world without the Flashy Sissy Camp and without the shirtless sword-wielding senior brother?"

Caesar gave him a sympathetic look, patted him on the shoulder, and shattered the last vestige of hope: "Accept reality, Lu Mingfei. What you see now is Chu Zihang himself, the real deal, no fake."

At this moment, a waiter dressed in black and masked pushed a two-meter-long wooden board onto the stage. The board was covered with thick, crystal-clear ice, and on top of the ice lay a bluefin tuna of astonishing length, gleaming with a metallic sheen.

Chu Zihang sheathed his knife and switched to a longer one specifically designed for preparing raw fish, the "Deba Baoding." He assumed his stance once more, his gaze focused, as if he were facing not food, but a formidable opponent. The long knife swung down with precise, fluid movements, cutting along the fish's texture like a skilled butcher dissecting an ox.

The dark red, jewel-like back meat, the tender pink belly meat, and the fatty, frost-covered fish belly are each cut into uniformly sized, perfectly shaped square columns. Each part is categorized, carefully wrapped in specially made semi-transparent oiled paper, and then placed in different cypress wood compartments.

The most beautiful piece of fish belly, with its pink and milky white interlaced patterns resembling the finest marble, was solemnly held up by the waiter on a black lacquered wooden tray and displayed around the table.

The female guests once again responded with enthusiastic applause. It wasn't necessarily that the tuna was truly incomparable, but when Chu Zihang dissected it with such focused, elegant, and powerful movements, the entire process was elevated to an art form.

Especially when the artist wielding the knife is shirtless, with beads of sweat sliding down his taut muscles, the fish itself gains an added layer of sensuality. Just as cigar smokers cannot resist the legend of "being rolled up on the thighs of Cuban girls," "Chu Zihang's hand-cut sashimi" becomes an irresistible temptation at this moment.

Chu Zihang's performance wasn't even over yet, and guests were already placing orders. Waiters, tablets in hand, moved quickly between the booths. The most succulent piece of fish belly was even auctioned off, with women bidding against each other, the price constantly rising until it was finally won by a wealthy woman wearing a peacock feather mask for a whopping 700,000 yen.

She rose gracefully, accepting the attention and applause of the entire audience, as if she had won a battle.

Following the customers' orders, Chu Zihang sliced ​​different parts of the fish into perfectly thin, translucent slices. The waiters then arranged the slices on plates, serving them with freshly grated wasabi and a special soy sauce. Based on the cut and portion size, the slices were named "Pine," "Bamboo," and "Plum." The "Pine" plate cost 30,000 yen, the "Bamboo" plate 60,000 yen, and the "Plum" plate a whopping 90,000 yen.

These incredibly expensive sashimi dishes were served in a continuous stream from the stage to each table where an order had been placed. The women who tasted them all wore expressions of ecstasy, nodding frequently and praising them unanimously, as if they were not eating fish, but a delicacy that could bring them ultimate pleasure.

The fervor of this praise would probably make even the four chefs who prepared "Life Like Summer Flowers" for Lu Mingfei and his team pale in comparison.

The climax came when a drunken woman rushed onto the stage. She was so excited that she spilled most of her glass of champagne all over Chu Zihang, who was still focused on cutting fish! The amber liquid flowed down his heaving chest and taut abs, shimmering under the dim light.

This abrupt and daring move, far from provoking discontent, actually ignited a firestorm. The entire room erupted in cheers! The women screamed, cheered, and raised their glasses, applauding this courageous act with even greater fervor in their eyes.

"Ukyo! Ukyo! Ukyo!" The unified shouts, filled with fervent worship, swept through the entire space.

"What is the 'Right Capital' they're calling out?" Lu Mingfei asked cautiously, a bad feeling already creeping into his heart.

"What's Chu Zihang's nickname at this shop?" Caesar answered with utmost nonchalance, as if he were remarking on the pleasant weather.

"Then who was the 'Basara King' just now?"

“My nickname here is King of Vasala, which roughly means ‘the magnificent and rebellious king,’ and I think it’s quite fitting,” Caesar said, raising an eyebrow with a hint of smugness.

"Where...where exactly is this? It can't be that kind of place, can it?" Lu Mingfei's voice began to tremble.

"Takamagahara Nightclub. The most prestigious host club in the entire Shinjuku district, and even in Tokyo." Caesar announced the final fact in a calm and even tone. "What you just enjoyed was the debut show of the new host 'Ukyo,' a program called 'Fish-Sashimi Bushido.' The response seems to be quite good."

Cowboy club.

Lu Mingfei felt the carpet beneath his feet turn into cotton, then into quicksand. A chill ran from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head, making his limbs numb and his scalp tingle.

"Yes, is it the kind of host club I'm referring to, the kind unique to Japan?" He tried to remain calm, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him. "You know, the kind where women pay for drinks and men chat with them?"

“That’s right. Providing emotional support, companionship, ambiguous fantasies, and occasionally putting on a talent show like just now,” Caesar summarized succinctly, while reaching out to firmly support Lu Mingfei, who was clearly starting to sway. “Are you alright? Do you need to go back and soak in hot water for a while?”

"My legs, my legs are numb." Lu Mingfei barely managed to stand, leaning on Caesar's arm, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace.