Chapter 124: Become the New World

Ten days later, in Shinjuku, Tokyo.

The rhythmic clacking of geta sandals echoed through the morning streets, instantly drawing the gaze of passersby.

But when they saw the owner of the sound, they involuntarily stopped walking, their eyes filled with awe and curiosity.

He was a young man in his early twenties, dressed in a black kimono with red floral patterns, a long sword with a red scabbard thrust at his waist, his obi loosely tied to expose his refined collarbones and the faint contours of his chest muscles—just like the ronin from period dramas of the Edo era.

In neon terms, he looked like he had stepped straight out of a manga; his appearance and demeanor radiated an indescribable unreality, as if the very air carried the scent of the samurai age.

"Excuse me… could you take a photo with me?"

At that moment, a girl in a white dress stepped forward and blocked his path. With the encouraging gaze of her companions nearby, she approached, bowed, and held up her camera.

"Of course."

The young man's lips curled slightly. He stepped back a few paces, gripped his sword hilt, and bowed to the girl with a smile. "I am Genji, second son of the Gen family, come from Ueno to Tokyo to see the world. Thank you for your kindness—I look forward to your continued favor."

His warm smile shone like sunlight into the girl's heart. In an instant, her mind wandered, as if she had already named their future children.

Only when her companion's teasing voice called out beside her did she snap back to reality. Looking at the young man who still smiled silently before her, her cheeks flushed crimson.

One by one, the girls came forward to take photos with him. Soon, other onlookers joined in, eager to join the spectacle.

The young man accepted them all without refusal. Whether man or woman, old or young, he posed with them, hands on hips, like a professional cosplayer determined to spread the culture of samurai and anime.

Then, a car horn shattered the harmony. Turning toward the sound, they saw a black Maybach glide to a stop at the curb.

A driver in a black uniform stepped out, opened the rear door, and bowed respectfully toward the young man.

"Apologies, my escort has arrived. I hope we may meet again."

Seeing this, the young man maintained his elegant smile, bowed to the crowd, then turned and walked toward the Maybach.

Once he was inside, the driver in black uniform bowed to the onlookers, then returned to the driver's seat and drove away.

Watching the luxury car—worth hundreds of thousands of dollars—fade from view, the girls' eyes shimmered with regret. None had imagined such a noble gentleman would have a taste for incognito visits.

If they had known, they should have tried giving him their phone number.

"No wonder you're you. Wherever you go, girls fall for you in droves."

Someone was already seated in the back. He smoked a paper cigarette, speaking calmly.

His face was deathly pale, chilling to behold—but upon closer inspection, it was a Noh mask.

The mask depicted the smiling face of a court noble: pallid skin, bright red lips, thick black eyeliner, and blackened teeth.

The young man said nothing. As he entered the Maybach, his smile vanished, replaced by coldness and indifference.

Genji Himeji—or rather, his second personality, the Dragon King of Oni: Fūkan Ruri.

"If not for your reckless decision to transfer most of your elite to Tokyo, Oni would never be in this predicament. How dare you come near me?"

Fūkan Ruri spoke coldly.

Ever since Genji Himeji suddenly announced his succession as Head of the House five days ago, the Snake-Dragon Eight Families have begun scouring Tokyo for traces of Oni, as if preparing for total war—to uproot this poison once and for all.

This in itself was nothing new; similar events had occurred many times before, yet Oni had always survived.

That was because Oni's reach extended far beyond Tokyo—its hidden cells existed across Japan and even overseas.

Even if the Snake-Dragon Eight Families caught them off guard this time, they could simply abandon their Tokyo faction and still have a chance to rise again.

But over a week ago, every Oni leader across the country received messages from King Jiang and the Dragon King, claiming to have found clues to the "Divine Corpse."

Since Tokyo was the Snake-Dragon Eight Families' stronghold, the two issued orders for all key members to gather in Tokyo, intending to divert the enemy's attention and ensure the mission's success.

But what happened? No trace of the "Divine Corpse" appeared. Instead, Oni now faced annihilation—trapped like a fish in a jar, helplessly watching the Snake-Dragon Eight Families raise their blades against them.

Worse still, a powerful entity seemed to have allied with the Snake-Dragon Eight Families and unleashed the 【Spiritual Word: Restriction】, sealing the spiritual powers of all half-breeds and Oni across Tokyo.

In raw weaponry and strength alone, Oni could never match the Snake-Dragon Eight Families—especially not on their home turf.

Last night, another group of key members were captured, including even Sakurai Komaki—the only woman, besides her brother, who ever stirred even a flicker of concern in Fūkan Ruri.

Thinking of this, his eyes glowed red. His hand slowly shifted on his sword hilt, as if ready to draw and sever the other's head in the next second.

Yet hearing Fūkan Ruri's words, King Jiang's body stiffened slightly, then turned his head toward him with mechanical precision.

"What if I told you the order summoning Oni to Tokyo was never issued by me? Would you believe it?"

"No."

Fūkan Ruri sneered. Though nominally the leader of Oni, the man before him was the true puppeteer—the executioner.

He was merely the sharpest blade chosen for the task.

But over time, this blade grew sharper—and less obedient. He had even seized some of King Jiang's authority.

Yet in terms of control over Oni, he still could not rival the man before him.

"…"

King Jiang said nothing. He stared deeply through his mask at Fūkan Ruri for a long moment—until the latter frowned and moved to draw his blade—then spoke:

"Whether you believe it or not, it is true. Someone has impersonated both of us to issue false orders to Oni—and they have concealed it completely from us."

"Who? The one who unleashed 【Restriction】?"

Fūkan Ruri frowned, his tone carrying an unusual tremor.

Just days ago, when he first infiltrated Tokyo's outskirts, he felt a crushing will press down upon him—and his once-unstoppable bloodline suddenly became docile.

It felt like a fawn on the grassland, trembling before a pride of lions.

Had there been no spiritual resonance, he might have suspected the White King had returned.

"Perhaps. But whoever it is, they are not a force we can confront directly. If we continue like this, not only Oni, but you and I as well, may face ruin."

"So what's your plan now?"

Fūkan Ruri stared at the court noble mask on the man's face, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

"Not a plan. Just a final struggle—a desperate gamble."

Beneath the mask, the twisted face twitched slightly. King Jiang's hoarse voice echoed slowly through the car, causing Fūkan Ruri's eyes to narrow sharply.

"Though that message was false, I have indeed found the tomb of the God. And now is the perfect moment to awaken Him."

"When you consume His power and become the God of a New World, it will be our only chance to turn defeat into victory…"

————

First day of the Lunar New Year! Happy New Year!

Wishing you all a prosperous Year of the Snake, good health, and success in all things!

Dragon Racer is truly a quick read—it won't take long. It's not because some readers dislike it; it's simply my original plan.

Lastly, yesterday I thought of a weapon for Wu Xian in Dragon Racer—a relic that already exists in the original work. He'll obtain it soon. Readers familiar with Dragon Racer can guess what it is.

(End of Chapter)