Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

"Only coordinates? Nothing else?"

“There’s one more thing. 'Please come alone, I have many things to explain to you.'”

Genji was silent for a brief moment, then hung the spider cutter on his waist.

"Prepare the helicopter. Sakura, you take Yasha and Crow with you."

The helicopter took off in a downpour. The rotor blades sliced ​​through the dense rain, the fuselage shook violently, and each encounter with turbulence twisted the bulkheads.

Sakura drove herself, Yasha and Crow sat in the back, and Genji sat in the passenger seat, looking down at the dark sea of ​​Tokyo Bay through the rain-blurred glass.

The seawater churned with white waves in the torrential rain, and the outline of the reclaimed industrial area was faintly visible in the rain.

Vast expanses of container yards, rusty gantry cranes, and the jagged roofs of abandoned factories were all bathed in a stark white light as lightning flashed across the sky.

The helicopter landed in an open space in front of an old warehouse deep in the industrial area.

The warehouse's exterior walls were made of corrugated iron plates, with rust spreading around the rivet holes, making the walls look like they were bleeding.

Sakura turned off the engine, and the propeller slowly stopped spinning, leaving only the sound of the heavy rain hitting the metal sheet.

Genjiro pushed open the door and jumped off the plane, his feet landing on the waterlogged concrete floor, the water reaching above the soles of his combat boots.

He glanced back at Sakura: "You wait here. But if I don't come out within ten minutes—"

“We know what to do,” Sakura said for him.

The warehouse's iron door was unlocked, and the scraping sound as it was pulled open echoed for a long time in the empty interior space.

Only a few old chandeliers were lit inside, casting a dim, yellowish light that made the dust and oil stains on the floor blend into blurry, dark patches.

Deep inside the warehouse, a damaged Garuda lies quietly on the concrete floor. The burn marks on its fuselage have been wiped away, but the edges of the armor melted by the high temperature still retain their twisted shape, like the skeleton of an ancient giant bird that has been unearthed.

Standing next to Garuda was an old man in a black kimono, his back to the door. Half of his hair had turned white in just a few days, and his shoulders were more hunched than Genjiro remembered, but his posture still maintained the dignity of the head of the Snake-Headed Eight Families.

“Mr. Masamune.” Genji stopped about five steps away from him. His voice was steady, and his left hand hung naturally beside the hilt of the Spider Cutter.

Tachibana Masamune turned around. A thick white bandage was wrapped around his left collarbone, and traces of pale yellow tissue fluid were faintly seeping from beneath it. He was much thinner than he had been a few days ago, with prominent cheekbones and deep-set eyes.

"Chisato, thank you for coming."

"You're injured. Where have you been these past few days?" Yuan Zhisheng asked.

"I need to recuperate in a safe place. The injury isn't fatal, but it's enough for me to reflect on everything that's happened during this time." Tachibana Masamune lowered his head and gently pressed his finger on the bandage under his collarbone, his fingertip immediately becoming slightly damp.

“For the past few days, I’ve been hiding in a safe house that only I know about. The Ghosts have been looking for me.”

"Since it was the Demon Clan who wanted to capture you, why didn't you ask me for help immediately?" Yuan Zhisheng asked. He noticed that there was no trace of any living person inside the warehouse except for the two of them, but there was a surveillance camera every few meters on the elevated walkways on both sides of the warehouse, and the red indicator lights looked like a row of rat eyes lurking in the dark.

“Because I’m not sure if you’re safe,” Tachibana Masamune sighed.

Yuan Zhisheng's pupils contracted.

“You weren’t by my side when I was attacked. Chisei, I almost ruthlessly sacrificed your friends during the reorganization of the Snake Clan. Did you ever harbor any hatred towards me? I hope you can answer me truthfully.”

“I did blame you for being so heartless, and even hated you,” Genji said slowly. “Even though I understand your good intentions and am willing to assist you, hatred is not something that can be forgotten so easily. If I say that I have never hated you, that would be a lie.”

"So, did you play a role in this assassination?" Tachibana Masamune's voice was soft, but its faint echo carried clearly in the empty warehouse, each word penetrating Genji's ears. "I know Frilian contacted you privately. Don't hide it from me, your every move is under my surveillance. I just want to ask, did you give her any hints?"

Yuan Zhisheng was silent.

“I have not participated in any conspiracy against you,” he said, looking directly at Masamune Tachibana. “But if a person turns everyone into an enemy, he cannot blame those enemies for conspiring in private.”

Tachibana Masamune stared at him for a long time. He didn't get angry, nor did he reveal his trump card as Genji had expected, if he did have one.

He simply nodded slowly.

“You’re right. It was my fault that I turned everyone into enemies. I came to Japan from Russia with not much, just a few pages of Herzog’s notes, the frozen embryos of the ancient dragon, and a plan. Over the years, I’ve made many cruel decisions to make the Snake Clan stronger. The Demon Clan must be divided, the secret research must be carried out, and those I consider vulnerable must be eliminated.”

“But I never asked you if you were willing to share this cruelty with me. I know you too well, Zhisheng, I know there is a light in your character that I cannot reach. My original intention was to make you a righteous friend who knew nothing of the existence of hell. But now, hell is right in front of you. I came to you not to investigate whether you betrayed me or not. I came to tell you the truth.”

"..."

-----------------

Half an hour later.

Genjiro burst into uncontrollable laughter, a smile identical to Kazama Ruri's final smile in the Kabuki-za dressing room.

Despite Tachibana Masamune's flowery words and attempts to move Genjiro once again, Genjiro remained unmoved.

He suddenly realized that this man, whom he had called "Dad" for so many years, had given him all the memories, but also too many lies.

Chapter 799 Tamagawa

Meanwhile, deep in the mountains upstream of the Tama River, a hydraulic drilling rig was roaring deafeningly as the drill rod gnawed deeper and deeper into the earth. The sound echoed through the valley, like a giant beast locked underground slamming its back against the rock, each impact sending a distinct tremor through the feet of those standing around the rig.

The rain poured down like a torrential downpour, the rainwater flowing down the hillside into countless temporary streams, carrying mud, sand and gravel as it rushed down from the heights, washing away the temporary gravel road surface on the construction site, leaving it in a mess.

Masahiko Sakurai stood under the tent, gazing at the chaotic construction site illuminated by the white light of the gas lamp.

Heavy raindrops pounded against the rain shelter with a dense, muffled thud. The white light from the gas lamps blurred into a hazy ball of light in the rain, barely illuminating the towering steel frame of the drilling rig, the mountain of drill rods, and the grayish-yellow slurry churning in the mud pit.

The rain started pouring down at dusk and has been going on for several hours now, with no sign of it letting up. The air is filled with the smell of damp earth and the acrid stench of diesel engine exhaust.

As a senior researcher at the Yamanashi Prefectural Institute of Environmental Sciences, Masahiko Sakurai was the on-site supervisor for this drilling expedition.

He was known for his composure at the research institute; his colleagues said he had a face that never showed any sign of panic.

But now, standing under the tent, staring at the roaring drilling rig in the pouring rain, he felt a strange unease churning within him.

He had been standing there for two whole hours, water dripping from the edge of his umbrella, his trousers and shoes splattered with layers of mud.

The Tama River is a large river that originates in the mountains of Yamanashi Prefecture, at an altitude of 2,000 meters. Melted snow and mountain springs converge to form streams, which then become rapids that flow majestically through the valleys of the Akaishi Mountains towards Tokyo.

On the alluvial plain downstream of the Tama River, the satellite cities of western Tokyo—Hachioji, Tachikawa, and Fuchu—spread out. Millions of people live, work, and commute there day after day, and no one would imagine that the source of this river is being drilled inch by inch by drilling rigs.

Yamanashi Prefecture is characterized by its mountain ranges.

Besides the Akaishi Mountains, known as the "Japanese Alps," there's also Mount Fuji, Japan's highest peak, which is featured on every postcard and in every travel guide.

Around 10,000 years ago, volcanic activity here was so frequent as to be almost hysterical. Lava flowed out one after another along the cracks in the earth's crust, layer upon layer, cooling and solidifying, eventually forming a cone-shaped mountain more than 3,000 meters high on the surface.

One can imagine the intensity of that round of tectonic movement. The ancients believed that the gate to hell was located in Yamanashi Prefecture. Mythologists say that this was because the ancients had personally witnessed bright lava erupting from the crater, turning the night sky into daylight, and thus believed that the golden-red viscous liquid was the so-called water of the underworld flowing from the earth to the human world.

Therefore, in the worldview of the ancients, the area directly below Yamanashi Prefecture must have been a real hell. Even today, there is still a shrine nearby that was specially built to suppress the "Gates of Hell," with its vermilion torii gate still standing upright on the hillside. Ritual ceremonies to worship King Enma are held regularly to prevent the waters of the underworld from carrying the souls of the dead into the mortal world.

The Yamanashi Prefectural Institute of Environmental Science was established specifically to study these dormant volcanoes.

The seemingly dormant volcanic group may erupt again at any time. Even Mount Fuji, which has been regarded as the "father of volcanoes" and a national symbol of Japan for more than a thousand years, has never truly gone out. The crater at the top of the mountain still occasionally spews dangerous black smoke.

Of all the active volcanoes on Earth today, none are as massive as Mount Fuji. The fissure beneath it plunges directly into the mantle, where a true sea of ​​magma exists, with temperatures reaching thousands of degrees Celsius, and rocks flowing slowly in a liquid state.

If Mount Fuji were to erupt, it would reawaken humanity's deep-seated fear of ancient supervolcanoes. Our ancestors witnessed such eruptions: columns of fire piercing the stratosphere, dense volcanic ash floating over the same continent for years, blocking out sunlight, leaving only long twilights and no longer any distinction between day and night.

The volcano pressed down relentlessly during the long winter, causing temperatures to drop lower and lower. Countless animals went extinct due to hunger and cold, and even Neanderthals were nearly wiped out in that catastrophe.

Beneath the pitch-black sky, a golden-red, viscous liquid was slowly flowing down the slope from the mountaintop, turning everything in its path to ashes.

Mount Fuji is such a huge dud.

All of Japan's prosperity today—Tokyo's neon lights, Shinjuku's skyscrapers, Shibuya's crossroads, Ginza's century-old shops, and the daily lives of more than 120 million people—is built upon this dud.

Every time a barely perceptible tremor emanates from the depths of Mount Fuji, the red telephone in the Chief Cabinet Secretary's office rings once.

For this reason, the Yamanashi Prefectural Institute of Environmental Science has been drilling countless boreholes around Mount Fuji for many years. Long probes are inserted into the bottom of the boreholes, and various sensors are mounted on the top to monitor changes in ground stress, temperature fluctuations, and gas composition.

Once comprehensive data determines that Mount Fuji shows signs of an impending eruption, the "Tokyo Cooling" project will be officially launched.

The final step of this plan was to completely evacuate the entire city of Tokyo, and to relocate the Emperor and his cabinet to seek refuge overseas.

When a chief cabinet secretary was questioned at a parliamentary hearing about the feasibility of the plan, he smiled wryly and said, "If it really comes to that, it won't be much different from the fall of the country."

Masahiko Sakurai has been working at the Yamanashi Prefectural Institute of Environmental Sciences for six years.

Like Miyamoto Sawa of the Tokyo Meteorological Bureau, he was an informant planted by the Hebihachi family within this research institution.

He was recruited by his family during his university years. After graduating with a master's degree, he joined the research institute as arranged by his family. For six years, he worked diligently in a dual role: a competent environmental researcher during the day and a encrypting and sending the institute's most confidential geological data to his family's contact person late at night.

The family has used this method to secretly extend their reach into every corner of the country, and for nearly a century they have been exploring the earth's depths. No one knows exactly what they are looking for, but everyone planted within knows that it is of paramount importance.

The valley they are currently exploring is not far from the banks of the Tama River. Ground-penetrating radar scans show that a very turbulent underground river flows directly beneath the valley, known in geological circles as the "Red Demon River".

The source of this underground river almost overlaps with the surface Tama River, and the areas it flows through are roughly the same. The Tama River flows mightily on the surface, passing through Yamanashi, Tokyo, and Kanagawa, and finally flowing into Tokyo Bay; while the Akagi River flows silently for tens of thousands of years deep underground, along a hidden fissure parallel to the Tama River but never seeing the light of day.

The Akagi River is formed by the confluence of two streams from completely different sources: one is boiling water that seeps into the strata of Mount Fuji, is heated to extremely high temperatures by magma, and dissolves a large amount of minerals; the other is cold groundwater that seeps down from the direction of the Akaishi Mountains.

Boiling water and cold water collided violently in the dark, sunless cave, releasing energy that produced a deafening roar, as if an invisible thunderclap had exploded from the ground.

Therefore, since the Heian period, this valley has been called "Thunder Valley" by the locals.

Every night, when all is quiet and there is no wind or rain, a faint rumbling sound can be heard from the depths of the valley. The village elders would tell the children that it was the Thunder God beating his drum in the valley.

An even older legend circulates in the area: the eight heads of the Yamata no Orochi drank water from eight different rivers, one of which was the Tama River.

Susanoo devised a plan to force the Yamata no Orochi to drink a large amount of river water mixed with strong liquor. While the serpent was drunk and fast asleep, Susanoo drew his Ame no Habakiri and killed it. After the giant serpent was severed, the dragon blood gushing from its eight heads soaked the land for dozens of miles around.

The land that was soaked in snake blood remained reddish for thousands of years, barren of vegetation, and avoided by birds and beasts, hence the name "True Red Soil".

This legend sounds like an absurd rural tale, but there is still a Yamata Shrine built in the Nara period nearby. The deity enshrined is not any real god, but a dark red stone dug out of the Crimson Earth.

Masahiko Sakurai had absolutely no liking for this legend.

His grandfather was a priest of the Snake-Headed Eight Families. When he was a child, he found a handwritten ancient book in his grandfather's study, on which a giant snake with eight heads and eight tails was drawn in cinnabar.

His grandfather told him that the Yamata no Orochi was not a myth, nor a bedtime story to frighten children; every time it appeared in the world, it came at the cost of countless lives and bones. The real Akagami River might be buried beneath the muddy waters of that old burial mound, guarding an ancient secret known only to a very few.

Their drilling expedition in Thunder Valley was ostensibly conducted under the guise of a "Disaster Countermeasures Committee".

Recently, the Earth's crust has been moving frequently, and the climate around Tokyo has been abnormal. After listening to the chief scientist's report, the Chief Cabinet Secretary couldn't sleep for several nights in a row, worried that a large-scale earthquake or volcanic eruption would occur in Japan in the near future. Therefore, he ordered the Yamanashi Prefectural Institute of Environmental Science to send out its best personnel and use the most advanced and fastest drilling rigs to obtain first-hand data on the strata around Mount Fuji in order to determine whether Mount Fuji is still in a stable state.

The family then took advantage of the government-authorized legal drilling to push the drill rod deeper into the earth to explore the ancient ruins hidden beneath the Akaki River system. This time, they were authorized to use the latest hydraulic drilling rig, whose drill bit could penetrate hundreds of meters of sedimentary rock layers within a few days, reaching the riverbed of the Akaki River.

The tension in Masahiko Sakurai's heart grew tighter and tighter.

The hydraulic drilling rig had been roaring for twenty-four hours straight, the drill rod relentlessly battling against the hard granite layer under high temperature and pressure. Although the cooling system was constantly injecting water to cool it down, anyone with a basic understanding of mechanics knows that even the most advanced equipment has its limits.

If they continue to push it along like this, it could shut down at any time due to overheating. This drilling rig is one of the most advanced pieces of equipment available today. The entire machine was specially customized from Germany and airlifted over at an alarmingly high price. If it breaks down, it simply cannot be repaired in Japan.

But what he was really worried about wasn't the German drilling rig itself.

He looked up and saw the rain cascading down the edge of the awning like a waterfall.

The rain tonight is really heavy. The water level of the Tama River has risen by nearly a meter in the past few hours, and the black reefs that were exposed on the riverbank this afternoon have now been completely swallowed by the muddy yellow torrent.

The weather forecast said the downpour would last until tomorrow afternoon—but recent forecasts have become increasingly unreliable.