Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

Then, a storm of fists began to rain down on Genjiro's face.

Caesar's own trench coat was already ablaze at the hem, flames climbing up his back, burning the epaulets and the collar. The black trench coats issued to him by the Executive Bureau were made of special fire-resistant fabric, but even fire resistance has its limits. The fire was gradually getting out of control, but he was completely unaware.

"That's right, what's the use of apologizing?!"

His voice was hoarse, filled with blood and gasps, yet each word was deliberate and forceful, like a hammer blow.

"Apologizes are always said after the fact! It's always too late to say it after the fact!"

The fist landed. Blood trickled from the corner of Yuan Zhisheng's mouth.

"It's okay for a man to make mistakes! He just needs to bear the consequences!"

Another punch. Genji turned his head away and spat out a bloody tooth.

"If you have to cut off your hand—cut off your hand! If you have to cut off your foot—cut off your foot!"

Another punch. The golden light in Genji's eyes began to flicker and then dim.

“If anyone can do wrong and escape punishment—” Caesar raised his right fist high, his knuckles already torn and bleeding, blood mingling with his opponent’s, dripping down his knuckles, “then who will praise the glory of the Lord?!”

His fist hovered in the air for a moment.

Then, each sound was accompanied by a full-force, merciless punch—

Hallelujah!

Hallelujah!

Hallelujah!

Despite the relentless barrage of blows, Genjiro struggled to his feet. His will had not yielded; the blood of the Emperor would not allow him to fall so easily to his opponent's fists.

Caesar gave him no chance.

He suddenly leaned down, forehead to forehead, and headbutted again!

"boom!"

A dull thud of bones striking each other.

This time, neither of them uttered a sound.

The repeated attacks to the head caused irreversible concussions in both men. The excruciating pain intensified their dizziness, their vision blurred, and the world seemed to tilt and spin before their eyes. Unable to maintain their balance on the sloping ground, they still gripped each other's throats tightly, like two drunken desperados engaged in a final duel in the mud of a bar's back alley.

Chu Zihang smashed the fire extinguisher box in the corner.

Without hesitation, he picked up the heavy dry powder fire extinguisher, pulled out the safety pin, aimed at the two people who were locked in a fierce struggle, and pulled the trigger.

White carbon dioxide foam gushed out, like a blizzard sweeping across the battlefield.

Caesar and Genji were sprayed from head to toe with white powder, their hair, eyebrows, and collars all turning frosty white. Yet they still didn't let go.

Two pairs of golden eyes stared angrily at each other through the white snow mist, burning with the same, unquenchable flame.

Blood slowly seeped from between his clenched teeth.

Chapter 678 Gattuso's Fury

Chu Zihang recalled that night.

That was the first time he had witnessed Caesar Gattuso's true anger. Not for competition, not for honor, not even for anything personally relevant. Simply because a complete stranger had been implicated by the Snake Clan and nearly died.

If it weren't for Lu Mingfei's Time Zero, Aso would have died.

The anger was so intense, so real, so undisguised.

The Gattuso family's anger was indeed, as legend has it, a terrifying thing akin to divine punishment.

Once ignited, it will not rest until the enemy is burned to death.

Chu Zihang lunged forward and ripped off the thick, purplish-red rope wrapped around the collapsed shrine—the same thick, arm-sized rope that had tripped Yuan Zhisheng. With lightning speed, he twisted Yuan Zhisheng's hands behind his back, binding them three, four, five times, until the tough rope dug completely into his flesh.

Then he grabbed Caesar's raised, blood- and foamy wrist.

"That's enough!" he said in a low voice, using all his strength to hold the arm down. "This is not the time to vent personal grievances!"

Caesar suddenly swung his arm.

The force was so great that it almost sent Chu Zihang flying.

Chu Zihang staggered back two steps, his back slamming into the burning screen wall. Ignoring the burning pain, he lunged forward again—

It's too late.

With his hands bound behind his back, Genjiro, with core strength in his waist and abdomen that is unimaginable to ordinary people, sprang up like a giant fish struggling after being dehydrated!

His legs launched a flying kick through the air, aiming straight for Chu Zihang's unprotected back of the head!

Chu Zihang underestimated the Emperor.

Once he recovered slightly from the severe dizziness of the concussion, Genji instantly regained his fighting ability. The bloodline of the Emperor never accepts capture, just as a tiger never accepts a collar.

A close call—

Caesar lunges forward!

He knelt on the ground and, with a standard, textbook-perfect punching posture, channeled his entire weight into his right arm, striking heavily into the center of Genjiro's abdomen.

This punch was not delivered barehanded.

In his hand, he gripped the heavy, cold body of the Desert Eagle. The muzzle was pressed firmly against Yuan Zhisheng's abdominal muscles, pushing him back as he staggered.

"boom!"

First shot.

Yuan Zhisheng's body was struck as if by lightning.

"boom!"

The second shot.

He took a step back, his heel leaving a long gash in the pool of blood.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Caesar repeatedly pulled the trigger with a punching motion, each shot pushing Genji back another step. Three meters, two meters, one meter.

"boom!"

The seventh shot.

Yuan Zhisheng was pinned against the screen wall, with no way to retreat.

His white shirt was now stained crimson, and seven bullet holes in his abdomen were arranged in a plum blossom pattern, their edges charred black by the muzzle flash. He looked down at his wounds, then looked up to meet Caesar's gaze, who was standing inches away.

There was no fear, no anger, not even the resentment of a loser in those eyes.

There was only a calm, almost relieved silence.

Then, slowly, slowly, like a toppled stone statue, he fell helplessly into a pool of blood.

"Caesar!" Chu Zihang exclaimed in shock.

"Stop yelling." Caesar stumbled back two steps, his Desert Eagle drooping to the ground. He could barely stand and had to hold onto the screen for balance. "This is the magazine for Friga's tranquilizer darts."

The magazine slipped out of the pistol handle and clattered to the floor. Wisps of white smoke, carrying a sweet, metallic smell, rose from the muzzle.

Chu Zihang rushed forward, knelt on one knee beside Yuan Zhisheng, and quickly examined the wound.

There were indeed seven small, round wounds on the abdomen, oozing a thin, pale red blood. This wasn't the unstoppable gushing of blood expected from a mercury-core armor-piercing bullet. It was a characteristic of the Friga bullet: upon impact, the bullet shattered into countless tiny particles, releasing a powerful anesthetic into the bloodstream, while the wounds automatically contracted to stop bleeding, ensuring no fatal injury.

The skin was severely burned by the muzzle flash at close range, and the charred marks looked more shocking than actual gunshot wounds.

Chu Zihang finally let out a breath he had been holding for too long.

Yuan Zhisheng suddenly opened his eyes!

His golden eyes burned, though much dimmer than before, they still shone with a captivating light. Chu Zihang was startled and instinctively drew his sword to block the man's throat, the blade almost touching his pulsating carotid artery.

However, Genjiro did not move.

He didn't seize the opportunity to attack, didn't struggle, and didn't even show any sign of trying to escape. He just lay quietly in the pool of blood, looking up at the ceiling filled with flames and thick smoke, his chest rising and falling slowly and laboriously.

A faint cracking sound emanated from his body, like muffled thunder rolling over distant mountains.

When Chu Zihang touched his wrist bones again, he found that the steel-like hardness was fading. The emperor's bones could have tightened and interlocked at will, transforming into an indestructible dragon bone, but now those tightly interlocked bone seams were loosening one by one, returning to the structure of a normal human.

Seven consecutive shots of the Friga tranquilizer darts still failed to completely deprive Genji of his senses.

But they eventually dispelled his powerful dragon-like form, which was capable of smashing bronze doors with his bare hands.

"Are you afraid that I will lose control and kill him?"

Caesar's voice came from behind, tinged with weariness and self-mockery.

He pulled out a Cohiba Canoz cigar, still intact in his suit's inner pocket, having miraculously survived the fierce struggle. He lit the cigar against the burning curtain, took a deep drag, and the bluish-white smoke mingled with the acrid smell of burning flesh.

This is not the time to smoke a cigar.

But he had just defeated, or rather, teamed up with Chu Zihang to defeat the world's strongest hybrid.

He has the right to celebrate this moment in any way he is accustomed to.

"I'm scared." Chu Zihang paused for a moment without turning around. "I'm scared that you'll feel too guilty about what happened with Miss Zhen."

Yuan Zhisheng's eyes flickered slightly.

Asou Makoto, a girl who works at a manga and toy store, is a girl implicated by her family. She's probably settled somewhere far away now, right?

He remained silent.

Caesar knelt down in front of Genji, a cigar dangling from his lips, the smoke making him squint his left eye. Blood was still seeping from the corner of his eye, and he casually wiped it away with his sleeve, leaving a long, messy red trail of blood on his face.

He looked directly into Genjiro's eyes.

Two pairs of eyes that once burned with the same golden flames, one pair has now returned to its azure blue, while the other still retains a faint glimmer. But the difference in their aura is now clearly visible.

"Didn't expect this outcome, did you?" Caesar said. "Bloodline isn't everything. Even the highest emperor can be dragged off his throne."

He paused, emphasizing the last few words: "Right, the super hybrid, Mr. Genji?"

Yuan Zhisheng did not speak.

“You used to say,” Chu Zihang sheathed his longsword, looking at the scene with a complicated expression, “that some things are predetermined. Who you are depends on what kind of blood flows in your veins.”