Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

Before arriving here, Tachibana Masamune had already prepared to commit seppuku.

“I often think that if one day I have to commit seppuku to atone for my past sins, I hope you will be my second,” said Tachibana Masamune.

“A second doesn’t take on just any job.” Genji said, leaning on his long sword as he slowly sat down. “Before committing seppuku, let me hear your reasons.”

"The sins I committed in the first half of my life are too numerous to count," Tachibana Masamune said in a low voice. "There is only one way to free me: death."

He paused for a moment and took a deep breath.

"My real name is Bondarev, a former KGB intelligence officer. I sank the Lenin icebreaker in the Japan Trench."

Yuan Zhisheng's expression changed drastically, and the veins on the back of his hand holding the knife bulged.

"Go on!"

“This is a very long story,” said Masamune Tachibana. “Let me start from when I was young.”

He looked up at the mural of gods and demons on the dome of the mural hall, which was blackened by smoke.

“I grew up in an orphanage in Moscow. I heard that my parents were martyrs who sacrificed their lives for the revolution. As a descendant of martyrs, I was fortunate enough to be selected to receive training at a spy school. At the age of twenty-one, I joined the KGB and became the youngest and most outstanding intelligence officer. Before the age of twenty-one, my life was happy. The only thing that puzzled me was some strange memories.”

"Those memories are blurry. It's as if I was born in a snow-white and cold place. It was so desolate that it was despairing. There were no trees, no grass, no living things, only endless whiteness and cold. I remember the sound of the wind, like someone was crying; I remember the touch of ice, cold and hard as iron. Those memories are like looking through frosted glass, not clear, but that biting cold is deeply embedded in my bones, and I can never forget it."

"By chance, I came across a classified file codenamed 'δ.' It was a KGB investigation report on a port within the Arctic Circle. The port belonged to the Soviet Union, but even the KGB didn't know what it did. Tucked inside the file was a list with only a series of numbers, each number representing a child. In the 1960s, these children were brought out of the Arctic Circle by the icebreaker Lenin and sent to an orphanage in Moscow, and later assigned to various state agencies. It was supposedly an experiment to observe the children's social adaptability."

Tachibana Masamune paused.

"I grew up in that orphanage."

"Are you one of them too?" Genji asked.

Tachibana Masamune nodded, his face, marked by the passage of time, twisting slightly.

“Those strange memories finally have an answer,” he said. “They’re not fantasies, not childhood dreams, and not something wrong with my brain. Those fragments of memories are traces left by incomplete brainwashing. I was a KGB intelligence officer, so I know what brainwashing is all about—drugs, electric shocks, hypnosis, psychological suggestion… I’ve used all those methods and personally experienced them. But I never thought that I myself was a product of brainwashing.”

He paused, his gaze falling on the skeleton covered with a white sheet in the distance.

"I de-brainwashed myself. I injected myself with drugs and forced myself to recall the events in my dreams. The process was extremely painful; each dream was a nightmare, and waking up felt like crawling out of hell. But I gritted my teeth and persevered because I wanted to know the truth. Eventually, I returned to that place, an unnamed port within the Arctic Circle. There, ice and snow stretched as far as the eye could see, a boundless white world, a gray sky, and the sun forever hanging on the horizon, neither rising nor setting. Yet, in the deepest recesses of my memory, there once was spring. I played with a large group of children on a meadow full of yellow flowers. Those yellow flowers were small, shivering in the cold wind, but they were alive, yellow, and warm. We chased, ran, and laughed, unaware of what the outside world was like, or even what we ourselves were."

He closed his eyes and seemed to see that meadow full of yellow flowers again.

“δ is not only the name of a file, but also the code name of a research project. In that research, countless test-tube babies were created—in test tubes, in petri dishes, in those cold instruments. I am one of the first children, or rather, the first generation of products, the first generation of hybrids with dragon blood created using in-vitro fertilization technology. We are not born of parents, but are manufactured, assembled one part at a time, like building a car.”

Yuan Zhisheng sat motionless, his hands gripping the long sword tightly.

"Go on."

"There are dragons in the nameless harbor." Tachibana Masamune opened his eyes and looked directly at Genjiro. "And there are hybrids found all over the Soviet Union, brought from the Caucasus Mountains, the Siberian forests, and the depths of the Ural Mountains. They don't know what blood flows in their veins, they only know they are different from others. They are brought here, locked in white rooms, and their blood is drawn, samples are taken, and they are studied. Dr. Herzog, the head of the research project, extracts perfect genes from them and then uses those genes to create entirely new humans, like me."

He raised his hand and stared at his palm.

Chapter 716 The Former Third Reich

“Almost no one could leave there. The port walls were very high, the barbed wire was electrified, machine guns were mounted on the watchtowers, and there were patrol boats on the sea. Some people tried to escape, but no one has seen them since. I was able to leave thanks to a social experiment. Herzog wanted to see if his first-generation product would have any problems when it was integrated into society. He wanted to know if we, these manufactured things, could live, work, and interact with people like normal people. I was chosen and sent out of that port to Moscow.”

“Once the experiment is over, we should be recycled. Do you understand what ‘recycle’ means?” Tachibana Masamune looked at Genjiro. “Like borrowed books that need to be returned, or used test tubes that need to be washed. We, the people lent out for experiments, also have to be returned after the experiment is over, and then destroyed. But I was lucky; I was chosen by the KGB and joined the secret agency. The KGB’s filing cabinets were very deep, so deep that even Dr. Herzog’s hand couldn’t reach inside. From then on, I disappeared from his sight, becoming a non-existent person, a file number, an identity document without a photo.”

He smiled faintly.

"After regaining my memories, researching the nameless port became my entire life. I used every means to gather intelligence. My KGB identity gave me great convenience. I could access top-secret files, mobilize intelligence networks, and have access to information that ordinary people would never have the chance to access in their entire lives. I pieced it together bit by bit, piece by piece, and finally saw clearly what kind of research was taking place deep inside that port."

"I discovered that the so-called Delta Project was a research project inherited from the Nazis. The Third Reich was once the most scientifically advanced country in the world. They built the first missile, the first forward-swept wing bomber, the first jet fighter, and almost built the first nuclear bomb. Those technologies were at least twenty years ahead of the rest of the world. Even when Berlin fell, the Americans and Soviets were still desperately trying to acquire the blueprints and scientists. The technologies that the Nazis valued most were precisely those that were overlooked by the public—those missiles, airplanes, and nuclear bombs were just war machines, the superficial things. What the Nazis truly poured their hearts into was the unknown field hidden behind those things."

Tachibana Masamune paused, then said, word by word, "That is gene technology."

"To prove that Aryans are the superior race in the world?" Yuan Zhisheng asked. He had heard of this history: Hitler's racial theories, the superiority of Aryans, and the distorted Nietzschean philosophy and racist propaganda.

“That’s right,” Tachibana Masamune nodded. “The Third Imperial Academy of Sciences gathered the most outstanding biologists of the time. They analyzed and compared genetic samples from various ethnic groups around the world, trying to prove that the Aryans were the pinnacle of human evolution, a race chosen by heaven, and deserving to rule the world. But the results shocked them greatly. The genetic samples from Japan had a mysterious activity. That activity could not be explained by any known genetic characteristics. It pulsated in the samples, like breathing, or like sleeping. The German scientists did not understand what it was, but they realized one thing: Japan might have the most perfect race in the world.”

"Family genes?" Genji asked softly.

"Yes. European hybrid families have always been highly vigilant about gene leakage; it's their secret, their power, and the wealth they've accumulated over centuries. But the Snake Clan is different. At that time, Germany and Japan were allies, and the clans longed to use the technology of the Third Reich to find a path to evolution. Too many members of the clans craved greater power, to break through the limits of hybridity. In fact, it wasn't just the Demon Clan; many members of the clans were also secretly eyeing that direction. They longed to evolve into dragons, to become the most perfect creatures in the world, possessing the power to change the world. So they gave their gene samples to the Germans as a gift of alliance, as a sign of their sincerity in cooperation."

"But before this research could make a breakthrough, the Soviet Red Army stormed Berlin. A powerful figure in the Soviet army who knew the secrets of the dragon race—his file only contained a code name, and even I don't know his real name—obtained the gene bank and the project's chief scientist, Herzog. He didn't hand these things over to the Soviets, not to Stalin, not to Beria, not to anyone. He sent everything into the Arctic Circle, to that place covered in ice and snow, a place no one would ever set foot in. In the desolate wilderness far from human habitation, they built a new port as a research institute. The Nazis' unfinished research was restarted, under a new country and a new flag, with new test tubes and new instruments, studying the same things."

He took a deep breath.

"Beneath the port lies a complete skeleton of a dragon king. It was the second research center in the world dedicated to studying dragons, while Kassel College was the first. However, it possessed far more materials than Kassel College. Kassel College only had dragon bones, fossils, and skeletal frames. But beneath that port lay a complete, flesh-and-blood body of a dragon king, preserved in a slumbering posture."

Genji nodded. "Continue."

“Once I have this information, I must return to my hometown,” Masamune Tachibana said. “I must meet with Dr. Herzog. Of course, not as a product. A product is not qualified to meet its manufacturer; a product only needs to stay in the warehouse, waiting to be used or destroyed. I must have a new identity, one that he dares not underestimate and is even willing to cooperate with me.”

“I fabricated a false identity for myself: a grandson of the Romanov dynasty, the grandson of Nastassia. I come from a family that has guarded the secrets of the dragon race for generations, a mysterious organization that has existed since the Tsarist era. I went to see Dr. Herzog with ancient heritage, family mission, and secrets that only I know.”

"Does the Tsarist family really have dragon blood?" Genji asked. He had heard rumors about the connection between the Russian Tsarist family and dragons.

“Possibly,” Masamune Tachibana said. “According to KGB intelligence, the Tsar’s daughter, Nastasia, was shot by the Red Army, and her body was thrown into a mine. But the body disappeared without a trace. Nobody knows where it went, who took it, or what happened to it afterward. Was it eaten by wild animals, stolen, or did Nastasia herself come back to life and crawl out of the mine? Nobody knows. I just borrowed Nastasia’s story, and added the story of that mad monk Rasputin. Do you know Rasputin? That man who was supposedly impossible to kill, who ate a cake laced with potassium cyanide, drank Madeira wine laced with potassium cyanide, and was then shot and thrown into an ice hole. The next day, the forensic examination revealed that he had drowned; his lungs were full of water. There are too many inexplicable things in the story, too many things that leave room for speculation. I used these stories to create a whole set of lies, a whole set of family trees, coats of arms, tokens, and codes.”

“I need to disguise myself as Herzog’s fellow traveler, a scholar also researching the secrets of the dragons, a representative of an ancient family, someone I can trust, cooperate with, and share secrets with. Only then will he be willing to share the secrets of the dragons with me—those things he won’t write in his files, won’t report to anyone, and only keep in his head. To win his trust, I even forged a two-hundred-million-dollar promissory note, which isn’t difficult for a high-ranking KGB intelligence officer. The KGB has top-notch forgery experts who can forge passports from any country, checks from any bank, and signatures from anyone. With money, anything can be forged.”

"Hmm, so what is your purpose?" Genji asked.

Chapter 717 Baby Factory

“At first, I didn’t know,” Tachibana Masamune said in a low voice. “I was just too eager to uncover the secret. It was the Dragon Civilization, a prehistoric civilization before human civilization, a world buried by time, distorted by mythology, existing only in ancient legends and scattered fossils. Pushing open that door would lead to a mythical world, a place with technology beyond human imagination, a history that overturns all understanding, and power that drives people mad. Who could resist their curiosity?”

He gave a wry smile. "But I didn't expect that something even more exciting was waiting for me."

"More important than the fabricated background is the two hundred million dollar promissory note. Herzog is an old fox; he's seen too many people trying to extract secrets from him. He wouldn't easily believe a young man claiming to be a descendant of the Romanovs standing before him. But a promissory note is different. Two hundred million dollars is a huge sum in any era, and an astronomical figure in the years leading up to the collapse of the Soviet Union. At that time, the ruble was devalued, the economy was collapsing, and even bread was hard to find in stores. People were trading military coats for vodka and medals for black bread. Herzog's research was at a critical juncture; he desperately needed funding, but the Soviet Union was broke."

"So even an old fox like him lowered his guard. He could have chosen to doubt me, reject me, and watch helplessly as his research stalled, his factory shut down, and decades of hard work went down the drain. Or he could have chosen to believe me, accepted my funding, and continued his research. He chose the latter and showed me the factory."

"It was a huge nursery. The nursery was filled with nursery pods, like a honeycomb, layer upon layer, row upon row, stretching to the end of the line of sight. Each nursery pod was as tall as a person, with a transparent glass shell, and filled with pale blue nutrient solution. Each nursery pod contained a frozen embryo."

He opened his eyes and looked at Genjiro.

“Each incubator has a label indicating the genetic origin of the embryo. Among those incubators, two are the most special, numbered π and ω respectively. That is you and the baby.”

"Herzog said that you are the closest thing to perfection. You have an astonishingly high proportion of dragon blood, high enough to be called 'Emperors,' but you won't lose your minds and become dead servants like other high-purity hybrids. Your bloodline is stable, which means that you can retain human consciousness and reason while possessing dragon power. That is exactly what Herzog has been dreaming of. He wants to mass-produce such new humans, possessing dragon power and human consciousness, and form an army with such new humans that will be invincible and able to conquer any country."

"His goal is not to resurrect any of the Dragon Kings!" Genji suddenly realized.

He kept thinking that Herzog was a scientist who studied dragons, so his goal must be to resurrect the Dragon King. But no, Herzog didn't want resurrection; he wanted to replace him.

“That’s right,” Masamune Tachibana nodded. “What he wants is the throne of the world. He doesn’t want to kneel before any dragon king and become a servant of any being. He wants to sit on that throne himself; he wants to become a god himself. This insane idea awakened the greed within me. If Herzog can do it, why can’t I?”

“Since you, me, and Chizuru were all created using genes provided by our families, why is it that only Chizuru and I inherited the Emperor’s bloodline, while you did not?” Genji asked.

Tachibana Masamune remained silent.

“Because your genetic samples come from a great man,” he said. “My genetic sample comes from an ordinary descendant of the Tachibana family. My mother’s genes come from a woman named Tachibana Chiyo, who was an ordinary mixed-race person with average blood purity and nothing special. My father’s genes come from a Russian man named Lavrov, who was also an ordinary mixed-race person from a small family in the Caucasus region. So my bloodline is not pure; I can only be considered a collateral branch of the Tachibana family.”

He raised his head and looked directly at Genjiro.

“But you are different. Your father’s genes come from a man named Uesugi Kotsugi. He was the head of the Snake-Headed Eight Families and the only emperor of that era.”

Genjiro was taken aback. "Uesugi Kotsuki? I've never heard of him. He's not mentioned in the family history either."

He had read the family's historical documents and biographies of the patriarchs. But he had never seen the name Uesugi Kozuke before.

“Because for the family, he was actually a disgrace,” Tachibana Masamune explained. “The family didn’t want to tell his story to ordinary descendants. He was the strangest emperor in the family’s history, not a pure Japanese, but a mix of Chinese, Japanese, and French. His father was Chinese, and his mother was of Japanese and French descent; he had the blood of three ethnic groups flowing in his veins. He was also educated overseas, earning a doctorate from the University of Lyon. His French was better than his Japanese, his suits fit him better than his kimonos, he preferred red wine to sake, and French bread to Japanese rice.”

"You could say he's a thorough Frenchman. To the other family heads, he's a monster—an emperor who doesn't understand tea ceremony, an emperor who doesn't know how to wear a kimono, an emperor who knows nothing about Japanese culture, and is utterly unworthy of being the emperor of the Japanese underworld. But according to the family rules that have remained unchanged for a thousand years, he inherited the imperial bloodline from the gods, so he is destined to be the supreme leader of the Snake-Headed Eight Families. The family rules are absolute; no one can change them, no one can question them. So no matter who he is, he must sit in that position."

"Uesugi Koshi ascended to the throne in 1934 and abdicated in 1945, a period of eleven years. During those eleven years, the Hebi-hachi family was riddled with problems under his rule. He knew nothing about the underworld, business, or politics. One night, he slipped away. Before fleeing, he even burned down the family's shrine."

Tachibana Masamune pointed outside the mural hall.

"Do you remember the charred torii gate that stood at the entrance of the shrine? That was the ruins of the old shrine."

"Where is Uesugi Kotsuki now?" Genji asked.

“Who knows?” said Tachibana Masamune. “From that day on, he completely disappeared. No one knows if he is dead or alive, no one knows where he is, no one knows what happened to him. He vanished from the world like he evaporated, without leaving a trace. The family searched for him for many years, using all their resources, searching all over Japan, even going to France and China, but they found nothing.”

He paused for a moment, then said softly, “Maybe he’s dead. Maybe he’s still alive, somewhere, living an ordinary life as an ordinary person. Maybe he’s forgotten that he was once an emperor, the head of the Snake Clan, and possessed the most powerful bloodline in the world. Maybe he’s become an ordinary old man, basking in the sun on a street corner, fishing by the sea, or queuing to pay at the supermarket.”

The flame of the ever-burning lamp flickered.

“Maybe he’s in Tokyo,” Masamune Tachibana said. “Somewhere in this city.”

Yuan Zhisheng remained silent for a long time.

Chapter 718 The Secret of the White King's Bloodline

“I haven’t been emperor for over sixty years, Angers,” Uesugi Koshi said, spreading his hands with a helpless expression like a poor old man being chased for rent by his landlord. “Sixty years ago, I burned down a shrine, and my family probably expelled me. They offended you, but that has nothing to do with me. I’m just a retired old man, so please don’t bother me in my peaceful life, okay?”

Angers scooped up some milky-white broth and savored it. He finished the noodles, leaving only a small amount of broth in the bowl.

I've come to find you because we used to be friends.

"Ridiculous!" Uesugi Yue scoffed, slamming the rag he was holding onto the cutting board. "Back then, we were mortal enemies, the kind who would fight to the death! Don't think that just because we haven't seen each other for a while, our sworn enemies can become old friends. That's a plot point in TV dramas that fools old ladies. There's no friendship between us. If you want noodles, I'll treat you to a bowl; if you want to catch up, sorry, I don't have the time for that."

He turned around, with his back to Angers, and began washing the pot.

“If you refuse to help, things will get really serious,” Angers said, putting down his spoon. “The Seven Serpent Clan is doing something very dangerous, and they’ve offended me badly. If things aren’t resolved properly, I’ll have no choice but to continue doing what I did sixty years ago—”

"Destroy the Snake-Headed Eight Families."

Uesugi heard it all clearly, and stood frozen in front of the soup pot like a statue.

“You know I keep my word,” Angers added.

Uesugi rolled his eyes, snorted, and slammed the soup pot down on the stove.

“Me, a ramen chef, meddling in the affairs of a yakuza tycoon?” he said, pouring water out of the pot, splashing everywhere. “Go ahead and destroy it. I don’t like those guys anyway. Those bastards, all hypocritical, but behind the scenes they do horrible things. Why do you think I don’t want to be that big shot? It’s because I can’t stand their ways. Destroy it if you want, it’s none of my business. Even if the Snake-Headed Eight Families are gone, I, Uesugi Koshi, will still be the best ramen chef on this street. It won’t stop me.”

Angers sat quietly, watching him perform.

"Think it over before you speak."

Uesugi felt a little uneasy under his gaze, so he turned his face away and started washing the dishes while humming a little tune.

He was humming the Japanese folk song "The Net-Pulling Tune".

Angers also started humming a song. He was humming the British national anthem, "God Save the King."

Five minutes passed.

Angers ate his side dishes slowly. He picked up a piece of pickled radish from the plate, took a bite, and chewed it with a crunching sound.

"Alright, Angers, you're my ancestor!" Uesugi Kotsu slammed his hands on the cutting board, making the spice jars jump. "Tell me! What have my descendants done to offend you this time?"