Reborn in Tokyo: From Heiress to Global Tycoon

Chapter 101 The Building Is About to Collapse

June, 1988.

During the rainy season in Tokyo, the air is always filled with a damp, musty smell.

Beneath the elevated bridge at Shinbashi Station, the red lanterns of a yakitori restaurant sway in the rain and mist. Whenever a Yamanote Line tram rumbles past above, the falling dust mixes with the rainwater and trickles down the plastic canopy.

The shop was filled with smoke, a mixture of the smoky aroma of roasted chicken and the smell of cheap cigarettes.

"Are you kidding me!"

On a greasy table near the door, a company section chief with slightly graying hair slammed his copy of "Evening Fuji" magazine down. The impact caused a significant amount of draft beer to spill from his overflowing glass, the foam running down the glass and onto the bold headline, "Expansion of the List of Unlisted Stocks for Transfer."

"Hey, Tanaka, look at this." The section chief pointed at the newspaper, his fingers trembling slightly with anger. "We work ourselves to the bone at the company, and we have to put up with the boss's attitude for that little bit of overtime pay every month. And these guys? They just have a drink at a ryotei and they're making hundreds of millions of yen."

The younger colleague Tanaka across from him didn't respond, but silently added a skewer of grilled green onions to the section chief's empty plate, looking timid and submissive.

"What's most infuriating is that 'new tax law'!" The section chief loosened his tightly tied tie, took a big gulp of wine, and his voice became somewhat slurred due to the alcohol.

"The Prime Minister complains about being poor in Parliament every day, saying that for the future of the country, we must introduce that large-scale indirect tax (the predecessor of the Goods and Services Tax). They're going to squeeze that 3% out of our pockets again! We have to pay tax on a radish, and we have to pay tax on a pencil for our child."

The section chief slammed the cigarette butt into the ashtray, sparks flying everywhere.

"They claim to be facing financial difficulties and need to tax the people, while they themselves are making a fortune from unlisted stocks. What is this? They're using our hard-earned money to fill their own coffers!"

"Say less, uncle."

At the next table, a man in gray overalls who looked like a small-time contractor turned around. He reeked of alcohol and was clearly fed up with what he was hearing.

"Prime Minister Takeshita's tax reform was also aimed at solving the aging problem. Without the Liberal Democratic Party, where would we be today? Aren't stock prices and land prices rising now? Stop acting like a complaining woman all day."

The section chief paused for a moment, then the stubbornness typical of Showa-era men surfaced. He glared at the foreman:

"A better future? That's your good future! Let me ask you this: if that new tax law actually passes, and you have to pay more money no matter what you buy starting next year, will you be happy about that?"

The contractor opened his mouth, but his initial rebuttal deflated like a punctured balloon.

In this era of soaring prices, no one wants to pay even a single yen more in taxes.

"That...that's a different matter." The contractor's voice lowered, his confidence clearly waning. "Taxes are taxes...but that doesn't mean they all embezzled them..."

"This isn't embezzlement? Unlisted shares are cash! And they're tax-free!" The section chief sneered. "If you think they're clean, why don't you pay that tax that hasn't even been levied yet for me?"

The foreman muttered a curse, turned away, and ignored him, but his drinking became even more vigorous.

The argument didn't escalate, just like the rain during the plum rain season—annoying, yet it remained hidden in the clouds, never erupting into thunder.

But everyone has a weight on their heart.

The anxiety brought about by the upcoming new tax law stands in stark contrast to the reality of the powerful and wealthy easily amassing wealth through privilege. This intense sense of deprivation is silently fermenting amidst the lively atmosphere of izakayas (Japanese pubs).

……

Azabu Juban, The Club.

Rainwater meandered down the intricate patterns of the black cast iron gate, dripping onto the puddle and creating ripples.

A black Nissan "President" sedan was parked steadily under the awning of the porch. The car body exuded an indescribable sense of luxury in the rain, clearly having been meticulously wiped clean, with even the mud spots on the tires being wiped away.

The car door opened, and an elderly man wearing a dark gray three-piece suit stepped out.

Tanaka Rokusuke, one of the "Seven Commissioners" of the Takeshita faction, was also a powerful figure in the D government responsible for Diet policy.

Even in these turbulent times, he maintained the decorum befitting a senior member of a major faction. His hair was meticulously combed, and his leather shoes gleamed; only the faint dark circles under his eyes and his slightly trembling fingers betrayed his inner anxiety.

This week has been like walking a tightrope for him.

He used his connections in the Ministry of Finance to try to suppress Apes's tax investigation; he visited senior members of the Special Investigation Department to try to find out the bottom line of the investigation; he even held secret meetings for three consecutive nights in that Akasaka ryotei to try to unify his story.

But the situation did not improve.

Public outrage over "getting something for nothing" coincided with the sensitive period of parliamentary deliberations on the new tax law. The Special Investigation Department, for reasons unknown, was relentlessly pursuing the issue. Prime Minister Takeshita's secretary had already been summoned, and the fire was spreading to the inner circle. Although he hadn't been directly named yet, he knew that if he didn't do something, it was only a matter of time.

He needs a final insurance policy.

He needed to confirm the Saionji family's attitude; even just receiving a verbal "it's alright" would solidify his position within the party.

"Mr. Tanaka."

The butler, Fujita, stood at the door. Instead of bowing and leading the way as usual, he slightly bowed, his body positioned perfectly in the center of the doorway.

Good evening. We have a private event scheduled for today.

Tanaka paused for a moment, a sense of foreboding growing stronger in his heart.

Something's wrong...something's very wrong...

But having spent so much time in politics, he immediately revealed that affable smile typical of politicians.

"Fujita-kun, I'm here to see Shuichi-kun. I have some urgent 'policy consultation' to discuss. I didn't make an appointment beforehand, but I think Shuichi-kun would be willing to see me."

As he spoke, he gestured to his secretary behind him to hand him a business card.

Fujita did not accept the business card.

He took out an envelope from his pocket; it was made of specially made thick pound paper and printed with the Saionji family crest.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Tanaka."

Fujita handed over the envelope with both hands, saying sorry, but his tone was very indifferent.

"This is a resolution just passed by the council. In light of the recent financial turmoil, and in order to maintain the club's reputation and compliance, the eligibility of some members will be re-examined."

"Your membership will be temporarily frozen until the review is completed."

Tanaka's smile froze on his face.

He didn't take the envelope; he just stared intently at Fujita's wrinkled but expressionless face.

"freeze?"

Tanaka did not lose his temper and shout; instead, he kept his voice very low.

"Fujita, do you know who you're talking to? I'm one of the founding members of The Club. Where is Shuichi-kun? I need to see him."

"The master is receiving guests at 'Tingsongxuan' on the second floor and cannot see you." Fujita remained motionless, still in the posture of handing out the letter.

"Receiving guests? Who could he possibly see at this time?"

Two blinding beams of headlights pierced the rain at that very moment.

A Toyota Century slowly drove in and stopped behind Tanaka's car.

The car windows were tightly closed, covered with dark privacy film, completely blocking the view of the rain-blurred interior.

But Tanaka recognized the license plate.

He was all too familiar with those numbers.

It's Ichiro Osawa.

The junior who used to follow him around, calling him "senior" at every turn.

The people inside the car didn't roll down the window, nor did they show the slightest intention of greeting anyone. The black glass was like a cold wall, silently proclaiming the attitude of those inside.

Tanaka's pupils contracted slightly.

Conspiracies of this caliber usually involve using unmarked vehicles. Yet, Osawa brazenly arrived in his own private car.

"Didn't you specifically choose a car without license plates because you felt there was no need to avoid suspicion anymore?"

Tanaka muttered to himself, a chill creeping up his spine.

This means that the other party no longer considers him, or rather, the current Takeshita faction, as an opponent that needs to be guarded against.

They abandoned the Takeshita School and prepared to start afresh.

Fujita turned to the side, bowed deeply to the Toyota Century, and gestured for it to proceed. The gate slid open slowly, and the Toyota Century drove straight into the courtyard, its taillights disappearing among the layers of precious flowers and plants.

Tanaka stood there, rainwater blowing in with the wind, wetting the cuffs of his expensive suit trousers.

He looked at the envelope that Fujita had forcibly shoved into his hand.

In fact, he knew what was going on the moment Fujita rejected him.

This is a declaration of political stance.

The Saionji family has made its choice. In this impending power reshuffle, the Saionji family has abandoned the current ruling faction and instead supported those challengers who are preparing to seize power.

In other words, the Saionji family, who possessed near-prophetic abilities, believed that the Takeshita faction was beyond saving.

Therefore, the Takeshita faction has now been sentenced to death.

"Good...very good."

Tanaka took a deep breath, struggling to maintain his last shred of dignity. He straightened his collar, turned, and climbed back into his car.

"Walk."

He spoke to the driver, his voice hoarse, as if he had swallowed a handful of sand.

……

Prime Minister's official residence.

The ashtray was overflowing with cigarette butts, and the air was so thick it was suffocating.

Takeshita Noboru sat on the sofa, his hand holding the telephone receiver, which trembled slightly.

He had just received a report from Tanaka.

"Shuichi-kun..."

Takeshita Noboru's voice sounded tired. "I heard that The Club not only stopped Tanaka tonight, but also Watanabe and Sato?"

On the other end of the phone came Shuichi Saionji's gentle and polite voice.

"Your Excellency, this is a last resort."

"Several major shareholders on Wall Street are very sensitive to recent news. As you know, the debate in Congress over the new tax law is at a critical juncture, and public sentiment is very high. Foreign investors value compliance the most. If we don't make some gesture, it could affect Japan's credibility in the international financial market."

Takeshita Noboru closed his eyes.

"Compliance... what a fine example of compliance."

He's a prime minister, after all. He certainly understands the political language behind these business terms. So-called compliance is simply about distancing oneself.

"Shuichi-kun, Osawa-kun is at your place tonight too, right?"

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"Yes. Mr. Osawa and Mr. Qinye are tasting this year's new tea."

"I see."

Takeshita Noboru hung up the phone.

He slumped onto the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

"An ambitious man..."

He muttered to himself.

……

The Club, second floor, "Ting Song Xuan".

The air here is dry and warm, unaffected by the wind and rain outside.

Xiu Yi put down the phone and smiled slightly at the two people in front of him.

"The Prime Minister already knows."

Osawa Ichiro picked up his teacup and gently blew away the foam.

"It's good that you know. It saves us the trouble of explaining."

From the shadows in the corner, the sound of pages turning could be heard.

Satsuki closed the book in her hand and stood up from the high-backed chair. Wearing the uniform of Seika Academy, she walked to the round table and placed a thin document in front of Osawa.

Ichiro Osawa looked at the girl named Satsuki Saionji.

His eyes held a complex expression.

To outsiders, she's just the eldest daughter of the Saionji family, a high school student. But within The Club's inner circle, the rumors about her are no secret.

Last year's Black Monday, with its shockingly precise short-selling orders; and the Saionji family's almost prophetic moves in the real estate and retail sectors in recent years.

It was all the work of the girl in front of me.

If it weren't for Shuichi Saionji's own admission, and the sheer pride in his eyes almost blinding him, Osawa would never have believed that the reason the Saionji family possessed prophetic abilities was because they actually had a "witch."

Although Xiu Yi was an excellent executor, he lacked that almost monstrous strategic vision.

Having spent decades navigating the political arena, Osawa knew that some families produced "monsters." But he didn't need to investigate why; these families were usually quite eccentric.

All he needed to know was that this girl represented the core will of the Saionji family.

Therefore, he showed no surprise at Satsuki's appearance, and even nodded slightly, which was the courtesy due to an ally of equal rank.

"Mr. Osawa."

Satsuki's voice was cool and clear, with a faint smile on her face.

"This is the list of people whose memberships have been suspended by The Club tonight."

She pointed to the list with her finger.

Tanaka, Watanabe, Sato... each name represents the core of the Takeshita faction's old power and is also the protagonist of this Apes scandal.

"Starting tomorrow, this list will be distributed to major banks and media outlets. This represents the official stance of the Saionji family and SA Group—we consider these individuals to be bankrupt."

Satsuki raised her head, her clear black and white eyes fixed on Osawa.

"The Keiseikai (Takeshita faction) still has more than 100 councilors. Apart from these dozens of people who have been 'isolated,' the rest are now very panicked. They don't know if the fire from the Special Investigation Department will spread to them, nor do they know what to do in next year's election after losing the faction's funding."

"They need a new support."

"A reliable source that can provide financial support and politically distance itself from the scandal."

"I think Mr. Osawa should know what to do, right?"

The witch has begun to bewitch people.

As Ichiro Osawa looked at the list, his breathing became heavy.

He understood what Gaoyue meant.

This is not a simple deportation list.

This is a document of power transfer.

Through this physical and economic isolation, the Saionji family helped him filter out enemies and potential allies.

All he had to do was take this list and tell those centrist lawmakers, "These people have been abandoned by capital; following them will only lead to your demise. But if you follow me, you'll not only have access to funding, but you'll also be a clean reformer."

Then, most people will side with him.

This is a bloodless seizure of power.

"Shuichi-kun, Satsuki-san."

Ichiro Osawa reached out and placed his hand on the list, slowly pulling it towards him. He gripped it tightly, as if afraid the list would slip through his fingers.

"I will use this information to restructure the personnel within the faction."

His eyes sharpened.

"As for those who are kept out... let them sober up in the rain."

Xiu Yi chuckled and raised his teacup.

"Well then, I wish you a good night's sleep."

Outside the window, the rain was getting heavier.

A bolt of lightning ripped through the night sky, illuminating the ancient pine tree in the courtyard that was swaying back and forth in the wind and rain.