Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

Before he could finish speaking, and before Lu Mingfei could reply, he turned and ran back in his leather shoes. His figure flickered briefly in the warm light of the French wall lamp at the end of the corridor before disappearing around the corner.

This man is so long-winded and self-righteous. He was the one who rushed out to question Lu Mingfei, but he didn't give Lu Mingfei any chance to answer at all.

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The roar of the Ferrari abruptly stopped a street away, followed by two sharp gunshots piercing the rain – warning shots fired into the air by traffic police.

They did not directly obey the Sheqi Hachike family; they simply followed the emergency road closure order issued by the Metropolitan Police Department and blocked all the main roads around Ebisu Garden. They did not respect the yakuza patriarchs at all, and even though the front bumper of the Ferrari was almost touching the orange plastic road barrier, they refused to give way even an inch.

This gave Lu Mingfei, Frilian, and Erii one last chance.

The three of them, hand in hand, continued running wildly along the red-carpeted corridor toward the back door, Erii's high-heeled ankle boots making a series of crisp, rapid tapping sounds on the wooden floor.

Lu Mingfei clutched the few banknotes his uncle had forced on him tightly in his hand. The cold coins pressed against his palm, yet for the first time in days, he felt a warmth that could be called confidence.

That's right, he was fleeing in panic like a stray dog, not knowing if the sports car outside the back door was still there, or if he could escape this commercial district surrounded by gangsters before Yuan Zhisheng turned the corner.

But there was still someone in this world who recognized him as a descendant of the Lu family. He was still holding the hand of this obedient underworld princess. Her skirt was billowing high as she ran, revealing her exquisitely beautiful knees and calves.

Such an escape is as romantic as a spontaneous travel poem, and as passionate as a love affair.

Lu Mingfei suddenly understood a sentence he had read in an old novel a long time ago: as long as there are people willing to wait for you, as long as there are people standing with you, no matter how far you run or where you hide, you are not a stray dog.

You will always retain the sense of security and comfort that a domestic dog finds by the fireplace.

The narrow corridor leads straight to the elevator, and a reproduction of Katsushika Hokusai's "Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji" hangs on the wall. A waiter in black is silently stepping out of the elevator door.

In the dead of night, with rain falling incessantly, he still wore a crisp white shirt, his long black hair flowing freely, and held a silver tray covered with a heat lamp in his hands.

He stopped below the print, bowed slightly to the two of them, and then slowly lifted the heat shield to reveal the black, rod-shaped object on the plate, which looked like a molten chocolate dessert shaped like a cigar.

"Sir, Madam," the waiter's voice was deep and polite, like any dutiful old waiter, "have you two not yet had your dessert for tonight?"

Lu Mingfei thought to himself, "I've already paid my bill and I'm in a hurry to run away. I'll skip this last dessert. Just move aside and give us the elevator!"

Erii stood rooted to the spot, frozen solid as if she had been instantly frozen in place.

Lu Mingfei tried to pull her hand away, but couldn't. He turned his head, about to urge her, but suddenly realized that Erii's eyes had changed.

Compared to his impeccable appearance and physique, the Uesugi family head's red eyes, which always seemed to be veiled by a layer of mist, were always the last and insignificant flaw. Most of the time, those eyes were hazy and lacked any bright spirit.

But at this moment, that layer of mist had been swept away by a flame that erupted from the deepest part of her pupils, and her eyes were now a scorching reddish-gold color, so pure and sharp, as if extracted directly from the last rays of the setting sun at dusk.

Lu Mingfei's heart sank; he had seen that look in his eyes underwater before.

For a moment, he thought Erii was about to unleash a Word of Judgment to erase the servant blocking his way from existence.

But he suddenly noticed that Erii's hand was trembling, like a fawn whose vital organs had been struck, unable to move. She stared intently at the waiter, taking steps back, her expression not one of murderous intent or anger, but of fear.

She, an extremely evil demon and the strongest known hybrid in the world, is terrified of the polite waiter holding the dessert.

The waiter did not approach, but simply handed the silver platter to Erii and Lu Mingfei from a distance, his manner impeccably polite, as if he genuinely wanted to invite them to taste this last exquisite dessert.

A draft, seemingly coming from nowhere, suddenly rushed into the corridor, blowing the waiter's loose black hair wildly.

Lu Mingfei also shivered suddenly, feeling as if his heart had been squeezed hard by an invisible hand.

He saw the waiter's face clearly; it was covered by a pale ancient nobleman's mask, with vermilion lips, iron-black teeth, and a dignified and serene smile on his lips.

The more Lu Mingfei looked, the more certain he became that it wasn't a mask at all; it was the waiter's real face. Perhaps a long, long time ago, this mask had already grown into the subcutaneous tissue.

Lu Mingfei clearly saw the corners of the mask's mouth turn up, revealing a vivid, gentle smile.

He and Erii trembled at the same time. He had never been so afraid in his life. There was a super hybrid standing next to him who could kill an entire street with a single word, but he was still afraid.

Before this smiling nobleman's mask, fear rose from the depths of my heart like water from an ancient well being awakened.

Chapter 822 What's so special about a second-generation species? Your sister Fu knows magic!

The silver tray slipped from the waiter's hands, crashing to the floor with a sharp, jarring sound. The heat lamp cover rolled all the way to the corner, landing beneath the reproduction of Katsushika Hokusai's print.

The dessert remained in the waiter's hands; it was neither a molten chocolate cake nor any of the delicate sweets served in a Michelin three-star kitchen.

A pair of black wooden clappers.

The waiter gently tapped the pair of wooden clappers, once, twice, and then rubbed the two pieces of wood together, producing a soft, rustling sound like countless tiny insects crawling in a pile of dead leaves.

The moment these sounds entered Lu Mingfei's eardrums, it felt as if an invisible hand had violently pulled him out of the real world.

He heard an ancient clock, long since stopped and forgotten in a corner of the basement, start running again. Gears meshed together, the mainspring wound itself up, and the huge bronze bell was struck with a thunderous roar.

A fragmented scene flashed before my eyes: a vast expanse of white land, an endless, pristine wasteland, without mountains, without trees, without any trace of life, only white, an overwhelming expanse of white. The white cavalry was surging in from the horizon, stretching from the easternmost point of the world to the westernmost point, charging with unstoppable force, their hooves and chariots crushing everything in their path.

No, that's not right, that's not a cavalry regiment, that's a surging tide like white cavalry!

No, that's still not right. It wasn't even white; it was the deepest black in the world, leaving no trace of light in its wake.

It was as if a giant axe had cleaved his brain in two from the very center, and then all of another person's memories were poured in like cement.

The person's pain, fear, anger, and helplessness; the person's bones being shattered one by one by something and then soaked and glued back together by liquid—these were not his memories at all, yet his heart was being crushed to the point of almost stopping by those memories that did not belong to him.

Then came the dark tunnels. The fragmented images dragged him as he crawled through the endless tunnels, devoid of light and sound, except for the rustling sound of his broken leg bones scraping against the rough rock.

Lu Mingfei could feel that his legs were broken and he could not climb like a human. He could only wriggle like a snake using his abdomen and ribs. Yet he felt that he was climbing very fast, so fast that the rock walls on both sides became blurry gray lines in his field of vision, so fast that he could hardly hear the incessant sound of the clapper behind him.

He thought that as long as he climbed to the end of the tunnel, he could uncover the truth behind this absurd memory, but he ended up climbing into a blinding white light.

He felt as if he were placed on an operating table, surrounded by voices, none of which were audible, just low swirling sounds, like ghosts whispering around him. Metal instruments gleamed coldly under the operating lights, and dark green and blood-red liquids swayed in slender glass tubes before being injected into this body that did not belong to him.

The pain, an indescribable pain, burst simultaneously from the ends of every blood vessel. He struggled desperately, but he seemed to have become a silkworm wrapped in a cocoon, every muscle that once belonged to him was tightly bound by that cocoon, and he couldn't even twitch.

He felt he was about to die, that he would be suffocated to death by this cocoon.

Lu Mingfei reached out to the side, hoping Erii would lend him a hand, but he couldn't see Erii at all.

He had no idea that Erii was standing blankly beside him like a soulless doll, all the light in her crimson-gold eyes devoured by fear, and the liquid flowing from her eyes was not tears, but a crimson liquid like blood.

The sound of wood rubbing together was like thousands of silkworms gnawing on mulberry leaves at the same time. The sound of the clapper striking the wood struck one after another, like an ancient bell telling time, like cymbals at a funeral.

These otherwise ordinary and unremarkable voices now echoed repeatedly in their minds, completely and utterly crushing all their consciousness and resistance.

The waiter walked slowly toward them, his crimson lips curving into a serene and dignified smile under the warm yellow wall lamp.

Lu Mingfei seemed to hear him say a sentence in an extremely gentle voice, a voice that pierced through all the illusions that were exploding in his mind and stabbed into his eardrums without missing a single word—"Yes. Still my good boy."

Then a flash of silver light tore through the corridor.

A sliver of moonlight cut from the full moon at midnight in the dead of winter is compressed into an extremely fine arrow.

A beam of light shot out from the tip of Frillian's wand, and a thin layer of frost immediately formed on the wallpaper that the light touched.

She stood quietly behind Lu Mingfei and Erii. When the wooden clapper sounded, she was also shocked. Her elf ears allowed her to hear more layers of sound than the two humans.

But she lived more than a thousand years longer than them, and in her long and seemingly endless life as a mage, she had seen far more dark things than this.

The waiter suddenly turned to the side, and the silver light grazed his mask, carving a deep crack in the right cheek of the nobleman's mask.

Silver-blue frost spread outwards along the cracks, freezing a corner of the mask.

The waiter stopped and gently ran two long fingers across the cracks in the mask. Ice crystals shattered and peeled off under his fingertips, revealing a small patch of pale skin beneath the mask.

Frillie gave him no chance to catch his breath.

The wand traced a smooth arc in the air as it murmured several extremely ancient syllables in Elvish.

The dust and debris on the corridor floor suddenly floated up, the gravity of the entire space was instantly lifted, and then a visible, transparent wave of wind surged from the tip of the wand, gently yet resolutely enveloping Erii.

Erii's skirt fluttered gently in the wind and waves, and her still-golden eyes blinked slowly in the air currents.

A magical wind lifted her off the ground, making her float in mid-air like a petal carried by a stream, hovering beside Frilian.

Lu Mingfei was still struggling in the aftermath of the illusion. He felt his knees were about to hit the carpet, and his brain was being crushed into a chaotic white by memories that did not belong to him.

Then a hand reached out from the wind, with long, slender fingers and faint calluses from years of holding a wand between the knuckles.

Frillie continued to maintain the stability of the magic barrier with her other hand, while the hand that reached out to him gripped his wrist with extreme force, pulling him up from the ground.

Her palms were not as cold as her overall aura; in this damp, rainy night, her hands were dry and warm.

She used a magical wind to sweep the three of them towards the back door. Erii floated to her left, while Lu Mingfei stumbled and was dragged along to her right. The three figures briefly blurred into a straight line in the corridor.

The waiter straightened up again, a dignified smile still gracing his noble mask, which was cracked from the cold.

He didn't chase after them, but simply tapped the pair of black wooden clappers in his hand once more.

They broke down the restaurant's back door.

The wooden door let out a miserable scream as the hinges gave way, and the entire door sprang open, letting in a torrential downpour from the door frame.

Lu Mingfei's eyes were instantly filled with rain so much that he could barely open them, but he still managed to see it by the dim light of the only rainproof street lamp in the back alley. There really was a Lamborghini parked outside the back door.

The driver's side door was only two steps away from the door frame. Every line of this black supercar, adorned with the bull emblem, gleamed wetly in the rain, and wisps of residual engine heat could be seen rising from the gaps in the hood, creating faint white steam.

The seats were soaked, the steering wheel was soaked, and the dashboard was covered in water. The car had been hastily dumped here without having its rain cover put on, or perhaps it was only intended to stay in the rain for a very short time.

Its owner only hopes that the person it picks up can get into the carriage as quickly as possible, and then it can be launched out of the alley like a bullet.

A Lamborghini with its top down, driving a supercar with its chassis almost touching the ground in a downpour, is a crazy act that would definitely rank among the top three craziest things Lu Mingfei has ever done in his life.

Erii was still not completely free from the extreme fear. Her eyes had stopped bleeding, but her crimson-gold pupils remained blankly staring ahead as she was gently lifted by the magical wind and placed on the passenger seat. Her hands rested on her knees, but she had not yet fully returned from that white illusion to the reality of the torrential rain.

As Lu Mingfei jumped into the driver's seat, he reached out to touch her forehead; it was icy cold and covered in rainwater.

"Hurry! Hurry! Hurry up!" Lu Mingfei's hands trembled violently on the steering wheel.

He turned the key once, but there was no response; he turned it again, and the Lamborghini's V12 engine finally roared with a deafening roar. All the needles on the dashboard jumped up at the same time, the tachometer soared from zero to the redline and then plummeted back down, and the dual exhaust pipes at the rear spewed out two streams of scorching white steam.

On the rooftop of a high-rise apartment less than fifty meters away from him, Mai Shude was removing the red crystal magazine from the AS50 heavy sniper rifle and replacing it with a regular armor-piercing magazine.

She looked down through the scope at the Lamborghini that had just started and was still adjusting its direction in the back alley, and whispered something.

She then turned around, holding her sniper rifle, and swept the muzzle across the main road leading to Ebisu Gardens.

In the gap between the roadblocks and the shoving between the police, a young man from the Bosozoku gang, riding a modified Kawasaki motorcycle with a white cloth strip bearing the gang's name tied to the rearview mirror, twisted the throttle to the floor, attempting to break through the police's flank defense.

Mai Shude moved the crosshairs to his front wheel. The sniper rifle emitted a muffled roar, and the muzzle brake spewed out scorching propellant gases to both sides.

The motorcycle's front wheel shattered upon impact with the bullet, and the entire vehicle, along with its rider, overturned and tumbled through the floodwaters towards the roadside.

The second shot followed closely behind the first, the bullet hitting precisely at the base of a lamppost by the roadside. With a piercing metallic tearing sound, half of the lamppost, still flashing, crashed to the ground, landing right across the gap that the police were struggling to maintain.

The third shot followed immediately, with three armor-piercing rounds striking the road on the other side of the lamppost in a triangular pattern, splashing up three trails of gravel and water mist, temporarily halting the crowd's advance.

Aside from shooting directly at people, Mai Shude has used every available means of obstruction.

She couldn't bring herself to pull the trigger. The AS50 wasn't like the Desert Eagle, which allowed for precise control of the penetration area at close range. Even if a bullet from this heavy sniper rifle only grazed the side of a person's arm, the cavitation effect created by the high-speed spinning bullet was enough to tear the muscle tissue of the entire arm off the bone.