Starting from the Dragon Tribe! - Chapter 71

Chapter 71: Undercurrent

It was a wide room with traditional Japanese tatami mats on the floor, separated by a simple white paper screen. The window was open, letting moonlight spill onto a low table.

On it was a white porcelain vase with a winter plum in it. In front of the low table sat a person who looked hazily through the winter plum at a dancing figure, and the space was filled with the melodious and poignant sound of singing.

The figure in the moonlight dancing and singing, Yang Guifei, used his magic-infused voice, as if recreating a scene from thousands of years ago. The scene blurred, turning into a mottled ancient painting.

On his shoulders was a blood-red wide sleeve kimono. The cluster amaryllis swayed along with the music, as if alive, blooming enchantingly. They formed a sharp contrast to the man’s pale white skin, like splashes of blood dotted upon it.

It was a proper Japanese Kabuki. The man in question was the peak female form, he knew more about womanly beauty than a woman did. Every flick of his arm emitted charm, and he would have beguiled the masses with each frown and smile.

But the person in front of the low table clearly didn’t belong to the masses. He wore a Noh mask—the mask was that of a public minister’s smiling face. His face was pale while his lips were bright red. His eyes were traced with thick black eyeliner, and his teeth were black too.

He raised his hands to applaud, but the man on the stage was dismissive. He stopped and sat on the floor, gazing at the man in the mask.

He could feel it, the true expression under the man’s mask. It was not the admiration nor appreciation of his craft, merely ugly avarice.

Today was different from the others. He felt displeasure from this man, which was atypical. Obviously something big happened.

“Part of the cocktail stock was lost, and some idiots used it in Europe, which alerted the Secret Party, causing Cassell College to send a visiting delegation,” the voice of the Noh mask was flat.

“The gangs under the Mou Kishu* abused the cocktail, and we and the Yamata no Orochi** are taking care of the out-of-control demons, so it’s only natural that there’d be one or two in this situation. However, you don’t seem to be panicking about it,” the “woman” lifted the glass on the small table. The liquid inside was as red as blood. He toasted the moon instead of the person in front of him and downed it.

*Lit. “Fierce Demons”

**Lit. “Eight-headed snake”

“The ones who should be worried are not us, but the Yamata no Orochi. The fact that the Secret Party sent people here isn’t necessarily a bad thing for us. We’ve stopped the production line of Molotov cocktails and destroyed the research data, but left some of the finished products,” though the “woman” detested the person in front of him, he was nevertheless very good at reading what the other person said and understanding his meaning.

The many groups under the Mou Kishu could be abandoned, as well as the research and development of drugs, because they made enough money out of them as well as wrung out all the value of the lower class. This was the “Noh mask’s” sickening ghoul theory.

As for the remnants, the Yamata no Orochi would clean up for them. They were demons that would never see the light of day, but also endangered Yamata no Orochi’s big secret. They would not want the Secret Party to intervene in this matter.

But what was the reason for keeping part of the drugs? To give the Secret Party yet another reason to make further trouble, or to induce those in the Secret Party’s desire for draconic power?

Another thing that puzzled him was that since the person in front of him had arranged everything, and the Yamata no Orochi would be the ones to clean up the mess, why the vague displeasure?

The “woman” was still pondering when the “Noh mask” opened his mouth to speak. The words that were uttered made his pupils shrink slightly.

Cassell College, Principal’s office, Anjou was currently smiling at the person on the screen, yet the other person was furiously shouting.

“Anjou! How dare you let Caesar go to Japan against the will of the School Board!” Frost was so angry that he wanted to slam the table, but his cultured upbringing only allowed him to speak loudly.

“If I recall correctly, it was only the Gattuso Family that opposed Caesar’s going to Japan. Since when did the Gattuso Family represent the entire School Board? Or is it that I’ve become old and forgot something?” Anjou merely smiled and acted the part of an old fogey.

“You… even from just a parental point of view, the college should have asked for our opinion first!” Frost, momentarily speechless, changed his attack strategy.

“Then, according to you, should the college also inform Chu Zihang’s parents that ‘your son ran to Japan on a high-risk mission and might encounter some extraordinary being, and if he messes up, he’s done for, but please rest assured that we will fly your son’s remains back home’”? Anjou said in a joking tone.

Frost was furious, but the rules of the college never said that students “needed parental consent” to go on mission. This would have been ridiculous, because the Secret Party was always violent military administration, and the school was just a gentle exterior. In this aspect, he had no way to refute Anjou.

“Caesar is already above the Pacific Ocean currently. I can’t recall him. Caesar is a talented child. Is there a reason why the Gattuso Family is so against Caesar going to Japan?” As he said that last part, Anjou’s smile disappeared, his golden eyes flaring up. Even through a screen, Frost felt the pressure.

“…See you at the School Board meeting,” In the end, Frost could only throw down a half-assed threat, because he knew that even the Gattuso Family’s “impeachment” of Anjou could shake the old man’s position. The Secret Party still needed this legendary dragonslayer’s leadership.

Anjou closed the video call. The person sitting across the table finished his tea and put on his breathing mask again.

“Why did you decide to let Caesar join at the last second?” Schneider knew that Anjou wouldn’t just arbitrarily let a student join a mission at the last second just because of said student’s request.

Anjou pointed to the laptop, “Don’t you think the Gattuso Family’s attitude is too strong and suspicious? Besides, you know yourself what those two students of yours are like: people who can’t handle diplomatic relations amicably.”

Schneider couldn’t deny it, “I heard on campus that Caesar is rumored to be a ‘chuunibyou’.”

Anjou laughed, obviously not expecting someone like Scheider to listen to campus gossip, “Sure he’s a chuuni, but Caesar’s social skills are very good for being used as a buffer.

Schneider shook his head, “Principal, did you forget, Caesar… doesn’t know Japanese.”

Anjou’s expression stiffened. 🗿

***

“The brightest place over there is Ginza, and it is said that when Japanese real estate was at its highest, a single Ginza lot could buy the entire United States,” The night scene outside the window was stunning. Tokyo was a city that never sleeps, and the place Caesar pointed to was the brightest.

However, the two across from him had their eyes closed, one holding Murasame, the other holding Red Maple, like samurai sitting in meditation, about to step into battle.

Lu Chen was supposed to be the leader of this mission, but Caesar inexplicably felt a heavy burden on himself.

Good thing he recently just got a girlfriend. His mood was currently in the “sakura blossom period,” and everything looked good in his eyes. He believed in terms of being a man, he was much more mature, which made him think that he was the most mature in the group.

Mature people should bear heavier burdens.

____