Chapter 119: The Helpless Rage of Herzog (Requesting Monthly Votes! Requesting Follows!)

No! Not one—a group!!

In Genjiro's stunned gaze, these twisted "big fish" seemed to have smelled the finest bait, swarming frenziedly toward the tank, pressing their heads against the glass wall, staring unblinkingly at the three outside.

Faced with the gaze of these "big fish," Genjiro froze, a chill sinking deep into his bones, an indescribable terror gripping him.

The reason was that every one of these "big fish" before him bore faces eerily human, yet their bodies writhed in chaotic distortion.

For instance, the nearest one—a human-faced fish—had a beautiful female face with long black hair, pale skin, and faint traces of cosmetic surgery around her brows and eyes.

But only the face was beautiful; from the neck down, the creature twisted into a serpentine tail, with only vague remnants of feet still visible.

As if sensing Genjiro's gaze, she suddenly opened her mouth and let out a piercing shriek.

Simultaneously, two clean fissures tore open from either side of her delicate cherry lips, stretching to her ears, revealing thorn-like rows of razor-sharp teeth that sent shivers down Genjiro's spine.

Yet the human-faced fish's scream lasted only seconds before a scaled, monstrous claw struck from behind, dragging her back into the center of the tank.

Immediately, the dozen or so other human-faced fish began swarming and attacking the smaller one.

They greedily and excitedly bit into fragments of the prey's body, thrashing their long tails with violent twists, using their immense force to tear the victim apart.

Moments later, prey and predators merged into a strange fleshy bloom.

A demonic flower with serpentine petals, each one writhing, crimson blood-smoke rising toward the water's surface…

"How ugly."

A faint voice spoke. Wu Xian lifted the unconscious Juzheng Zong, sneering, then waved his hand and flung him at Genjiro's feet.

"Now do you see? This is Juzheng Zong's true face—and the secrets he's hidden go far beyond this."

Genjiro lowered his head stiffly, his gaze falling upon the old man he had revered as a father, his eyes slowly filling with sorrow and betrayed rage.

Genjiro was no fool. Among the Snake-Dragon Eight Families, only Juzheng Zong, as patriarch, had the power to establish such a hidden space beneath Genji Heavy Industries and quietly breed so many Dead Servants without a trace.

And if one examined the area around the water tank closely, one could spot various torture devices and experimental instruments, still stained with dried blood.

Clearly, Juzheng Zong created this space to study Dead Servants—and Genjiro could guess their origin: almost certainly linked to family members with unstable bloodlines.

If true, then no matter Juzheng Zong's motives, his actions were an unforgivable taboo among the Snake-Dragon Eight Families and the entire half-blood community—deserving of death a thousand times over!

Thinking of this, Genjiro looked up at Wu Xian again, recalling his prior actions, his background at the Cassell Academy, and his overwhelming power, his mind spiraling into wild speculation.

Suppose… he said suppose, if Wu Xian wasn't a Dragon King, but rather the ultimate weapon developed jointly by Cassell and the Secret Party.

Then his arrival in Japan was likely because headquarters detected Juzheng Zong's secrets and sent him to deal with this matter.

That's why he acts so recklessly—like Anger, who once swept through Japan's half-bloods, using the most brutal, direct methods to solve problems.

After all, this not only completes his orders but also crushes the Snake-Dragon Eight Families' pride once more, forcing them to remember the terror once imposed by Anger, reminding them that headquarters still holds absolute control—and if they wish to live, they must obey.

Everything now made sense…

Clenching his fists, Genjiro stared at Juzheng Zong, sprawled on the ground, barely breathing, and closed his eyes in pain.

After a long silence, he reached out, slowly drawing the two long blades from his waist, his voice low:

"I understand your meaning… the patriarch has committed an unforgivable sin—he must be executed immediately. I will personally report this to headquarters, and I will bear all blame afterward—only hope headquarters will show mercy to the family."

???

Watching Genjiro's righteous, self-sacrificing stance, Wu Xian's forehead instantly filled with question marks—he had no idea what this fool was imagining now.

Rolling his eyes, Wu Xian waved his hand, sending Genjiro's blades flying, then said wearily under Genjiro's bewildered stare:

"Stop arguing with thin air. My main reason for coming to Japan is Himeyuri. Everything else is incidental."

"As for letting you see this, it's because I didn't want you to be fooled like a fool—you are, after all, Himeyuri's real brother."

"Ah… this…"

Genjiro was stunned by these words—he'd never encountered someone like Wu Xian, and now his mind spun with even more confusion.

Wait! What did he just say?!

"My lord, you say I am Himeyuri's real brother?"

Genjiro's breath quickened slightly as he ventured, "Could there be some misunderstanding? Himeyuri is a lost bloodline of the Uesugi clan, while I am a collateral branch of the Genji—our relation, at most, is distant kinship…"

"No. You are her real brother."

Wu Xian looked at him deeply. "And Genjiro—your sister. The three of you share the same father—at least, same father, different mothers. Enough. Explaining is too troublesome. Just look."

With that, Wu Xian placed his Double-Complete Hand on Juzheng Zong's forehead.

After fifteen seconds, a glowing orb the size of a ping-pong ball, shimmering blue, was extracted and held before Genjiro.

"Let me be clear—there's something even more shocking inside. Honestly, I didn't show you earlier because I feared you couldn't handle it. That's why I brought you here—to ease you into it gradually."

"Now that you've seen part of Juzheng Zong's secrets, you're probably prepared. It's time you learned the rest of the truth."

Hearing this, Genjiro trembled—he had no idea what was inside the orb, but if it was worse than this, it must be horrifying beyond imagining.

He said nothing, only reached out, grasped the orb, and placed it against his forehead as Wu Xian instructed.

…

"Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! ———!!"

Meanwhile, in Tokyo, deep within a massive underground base thirty meters below ground, a silver-haired man with the features of both an eighty-year-old and a twenty-year-old was smashing everything in the laboratory, raging uncontrollably.

His furious curses carried not only hysterical rage and despair, but also a fear he himself had not yet recognized.

With a crash, he hurled a chair against the wall, then braced his hands on the lab table, gasping heavily.

Beneath his silver hair, his cold blue eyes burned with bitterness and venom.

The man was Jung von Herzog, a German who once served the Third Reich, the youngest doctor at the Reich's Institute of Biological Research.

After Germany's defeat in WWII, he and other scientists became Soviet prisoners of war and, due to their exceptional intellect and research skills, were sent to an unnamed Arctic port called "Black Swan Port" to study dragons and half-bloods.

It was then that Herzog saw the world's truth and became obsessed with dragon power, yearning to become a great being like the Black King—the god he believed in.

To achieve this, Herzog spent decades scheming, enduring countless hardships, even modifying his own body into a frail artificial half-blood.

Because of this, he awakened a "weak" spirit speech that others dismissed—combined with scientific methods, he forged the identities of Juzheng Zong and Wang Jiang.

Through further manipulation, he made these two "selves" control the Snake-Dragon Eight Families and the Demon Ghost Sect, staging endless self-directed conflicts, all to wait for the sweetest fruit to ripen before plucking and devouring it.

But today, an unexpected event—something that should never have happened—disrupted his perfect plan, sending everything spiraling into unpredictable chaos.

And this was the root of Herzog's helpless, furious rage.

"Just a little more! If I had two more years… no! Just one year, I could be crowned a god, master of this world."

"Why… why now, of all times, did this inexplicable fool appear?!"

"And that terrifying power—could he truly be a Dragon King, and already know my plan, seeking to absorb the White King's remains to strengthen himself?!"

"But how? How could he know these things… wait! It's Bondarev! It must be that traitor Bondarev! He's still alive!!"

As he spoke, Herzog recalled a certain night long ago—his heart clenched sharply, his eyes turning blood-red!

No one could endure such humiliation—his life's work, on the verge of success, now threatened by someone trying to steal the fruit, especially if that someone had once betrayed him.

Unbearable!

Unforgivable!!

"No! I haven't lost! My identity hasn't been exposed! I still have the Demon Ghost Sect! I still have a chance to succeed!!"

Herzog gritted his teeth, turned, and scanned the laboratory's hundreds of humanoid beings sleeping in their growth tanks.

A cruel smile curled his lips.

"No one shall block my path to godhood. I will succeed—I shall become the king of this world!!"

(End of Chapter)