Reborn in Tokyo: From Heiress to Global Tycoon

Chapter 102 Supply Cut-off and Blood Transfusion

June 30, 1988.

Tokyo was awakened by a clap of thunder in the early morning.

It wasn't the weather, but the front page headline of the Asahi Shimbun. The black lead type, like an obituary, listed the names of four prominent figures:

Michio Watanabe, Satsuki Kato, Koichi Kato, Saburo Iemoto.

These four individuals are the absolute core of the Liberal Democratic Party, even including a prominent figure from former Prime Minister Yasuhiro Nakasone's faction. The report details how their secretaries or relatives purchased unlisted shares of Recruit's subsidiaries under other people's names.

The fire finally reached the ceiling.

……

Akasaka, Ryotei "Tsuraya".

This is the private room of Iwasaki, the top advisor of the Mitsubishi Group. A startled deer in the courtyard let out a sharp "whoosh," breaking the deathly silence inside.

"Mr. Iwasaki, the tea is cold."

Shuichi picked up the iron kettle and poured a cup of hot water for the old man who controlled the lifeline of Japan's heavy industry.

Iwasaki's fingers gently caressed the Asahi Shimbun, his brows furrowing into a deep frown.

"Saionji-kun," Iwasaki finally spoke, his voice hoarse, "did you invite me here today as the 'President of SA Group,' or as a 'Member of the House of Peers,' or perhaps as the owner of The Club?"

"Neither."

Shuichi put down the teapot, his tone gentle and sincere.

"I am a younger generation who also worries about the future of the country."

He pointed to the newspaper.

"You understand the current situation better than I do. For the past week, the Ministry of Finance, the Ministry of International Trade and Industry, and even the entrances of major banks have been swarmed by angry citizens and reporters. The public's nerves were already stretched to the limit because of the issue of the 'consumption tax'."

"Now, this list is out. If the business community continues to support the Takeshita Cabinet without reservation at this time, and even distributes the summer 'political donations' as usual..."

Shuichi paused for a moment, then looked up and stared directly at Iwasaki.

"I'm afraid the public's anger will reach Marunouchi. Those radical civic groups might throw stones into the windows of the Mitsubishi Building. As you know, the public is often irrational. In that case, it won't just be Recruit who will be seen as a typical example of 'collusion between government and business'."

Iwasaki fell silent.

As a core member of the Keidanren (Business Development Council), he was well aware of how terrifying public opinion was. The consumption tax already affected everyone's interests, and now the scandal of corruption involving power and money had surfaced; the people's anger was just one spark away from exploding.

"Then what do you want me to do?" Iwasaki looked at Shuichi warily. "Support that young man, Osawa? Impossible. His foundation within D is not yet stable, and his personality is too radical. The business world doesn't like taking risks."

No, you've misunderstood.

Xiu Yi smiled slightly and waved his hand.

"How dare the Saionji family instruct Mitsubishi on how to do things? I'm just offering a small suggestion."

"What suggestion?"

"Let's wait and see."

Xiu Yi uttered two words.

"Instead of throwing money into a fire now, it's better to hold onto your wallet tighter. The reason for suspending 'unconventional funding' support to key members of the Takeshita faction is readily available—to cooperate with the Special Investigation Department's investigation, the company needs to conduct a 'compliance self-check'."

"Neither side with Takeshita Noboru nor express support for Osawa. Simply... take a step back and let the dust settle."

Iwasaki's eyes flickered.

This is indeed a mature and prudent plan. It avoids public opinion risks without completely offending those in power.

He looked up and re-examined the man in front of him.

In Iwasaki's memory, Shuichi Saionji was just an exquisite statue in the House of Nobles, responsible for stamping the bills when they were passed, maintaining the dignity and honor of the old aristocracy.

But today, he sensed a chilling stench of blood in the man's words.

"Saionji-kun."

Iwasaki picked up his teacup and said meaningfully.

"I used to think that you members of the House of Lords only knew how to talk about etiquette and tradition under the chrysanthemum banner. I never imagined that your fangs were sharper than those of the politicians in the House of Representatives."

"The world is tough. If you don't have teeth, you can't even protect your ancestral property." Xiu Yi humbly lowered his head, avoiding the sharp edge.

"Okay." Iwasaki put down his teacup. "The allocation of 'confidential funds' to several Mitsubishi-affiliated companies will be suspended next month. We will announce that we are awaiting the results of the Special Investigation Department's investigation."

Shuichi bowed again, a flawless smile on his face.

"A wise move."

……

After Iwasaki left, the private room fell silent again.

Shuichi maintained his upright posture, the smile on his lips gradually fading. He looked at the cup of tea in front of him, which was no longer steaming, and the image of Satsuki playing with a paper cutter in the study before he left came to mind.

"Ichiro Osawa is a fine sword. But before the bubble bursts, we need someone to forcefully implement the consumption tax and bear all the blame."

Xiu Yi picked up his wine glass, his fingertips tracing the cool glass.

To outsiders, he was a timely ally; but on the Saionji family's chessboard, he was nothing more than a expendable tool used to break down the gates of the old order.

"Oozawa-kun..."

He whispered to the void, his tone indifferent, as if a tool about to be scrapped was not worth his attention.

"Enjoy your upcoming moment of glory. After all, what the people need is not a hero, but a sacrifice to take the fall on the day of reckoning."

He drank the tea in his cup in one gulp.

There was never a place for Ichiro Osawa on this Noah's Ark.

......

That same evening, at the ANA Hotel in Kioi-cho.

Inside the executive suite on the 36th floor, the light from the crystal chandelier was tightly locked inside by the heavy velvet curtains.

Ichiro Osawa was nestled deep in the leather sofa, a nearly burnt-out cigar between his fingers. A long pile of ash had accumulated, but he didn't seem inclined to flick it off; he simply squinted, staring at the rising plumes of smoke.

The seven or eight people sitting around him were all core members who had fought their way up from the "Tanaka faction" with him.

"Click".

The door was pushed open.

Hirano, a trusted confidant, entered. He did not bow as usual, and his face was as gloomy as the weather outside. He walked to Osawa's side, bent down, and spoke in a low voice that was clear to everyone present.

"Mr. Osawa, the faction's general affairs bureau just called."

Hirano paused for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Watanabe-senpai said that, given the recent 'critical period,' in order to avoid attracting the attention of the Special Investigation Department, the 'summer ice allowance' that was originally scheduled to be distributed tomorrow... is temporarily frozen."

A moment of deathly silence fell over the room.

Immediately following was an uncontrollable commotion and low-pitched curses.

"Freeze? Calling it a freeze means cutting off food supplies, doesn't it?"

"Takeshita is trying to kill us. Without this money, we won't even be able to afford to rent a bus to go back to our constituency next week."

"That old fox timed it perfectly..."

Osawa Ichiro finally moved.

He raised his hand and gently flicked away the long piece of cigarette ash.

"What's the panic?"

His voice was not loud, but had a metallic, cold quality that instantly suppressed the noise in the room.

"Takeshita Noboru only has this one card left. He's barely able to take care of himself. He thinks that by cutting off the lifeline, we'll just float to the surface like fish out of water."

Daze stood up, walked to the French windows, and pulled back the curtains.

Outside the window, the Tokyo Tower shimmered red in the rainy night.

"But he forgot that fish die in water, but sharks...live by the smell of blood."

"Thump, thump".

The knocking sounded again.

This time, it was Qin Yezi who came in.

He wore his signature stand-up collar suit, his shoulders soaked by the rain, but he didn't seem to care. Behind him followed two silent, burly men carrying two heavy black hard-shell leather suitcases.

"Sorry to keep you all waiting."

Qin Yezi pushed up his glasses, which were covered by rain and fog, and a hint of excited smile appeared on his lips.

"Saionji Temple has some complicated procedures in order to circumvent the Political Funds Control Law."

Two burly men placed the suitcase on the marble coffee table.

"Clatter".

The sound of the latch popping open was particularly crisp in the quiet room.

The lid of the box was opened.

Neatly stacked were piles of brand-new bank drafts and hundreds of beautifully printed admission tickets for the "Reform Research Association Inaugural Dinner".

Each ticket represents a legitimate political donation that does not require public disclosure.

Total amount: 300 million yen.

The previously noisy room instantly fell silent, with only heavy breathing remaining.

"Mr. Osawa."

Qin Yezi picked up a promissory note, which was issued in the name of a subsidiary of SA Group.

"Mr. Shuichi brought a message saying that the money was 'clean.' Every penny was traceable, and even if the Special Investigation Department searched through the ledgers thoroughly, they couldn't find any problems."

Ichiro Osawa turned around and looked at the box of "ammunition".

A slow, smirk crept onto his lips, a cruel gleam of pleasure flashing in his eyes.

That's the source of their confidence.

With these, he was no longer a traitor awaiting purging, but a powerful warlord. He had already seen the steps leading to the prime minister's residence.

And his bright and promising future.

Anyone can see that Japan's economy is poised for takeoff. This is the trend, this is the opportunity, and it's not a dream for Osawa Ichiro to ride this wave and become a great figure etched in Japanese history.

"Hirano."

Da Zeqiang suppressed the agitation in his heart, and his voice became deep and powerful.

"Take these and contact those thirty young councilors who are still observing."

He grabbed a handful of admission tickets from the box and stuffed them into Hirano's hand.

"Tell them that what Takeshita Noboru can't give, I will."

"Tell them that as long as they sign the list of the 'Reform Research Association' tonight, not only will their summer activity expenses be fully reimbursed, but I will also cover their election funds next year."

Hirano clutched the stack of admission tickets tightly, his eyes also revealing excitement.

"Yes! I'll go right away!"

This was a blatant bribery, and also a precise political investment.

Those "poor" councilors who were ineligible to receive Recruit shares were originally marginalized figures in Nagata-cho, fearful outcasts. But now, because they "didn't take the shares," they have become the cleanest and safest political assets.

What Osawa wants to do is use the Saionji family's money to bring all these "pure streams" into his own pocket.

"Open all the windows."

Ichiro Osawa lit a cigar again and took a deep drag.

"The musty smell in this house is too strong. We need to air it out."

......

Late at night, in the study of the Saionji family headquarters.

A wolf-hair brush, fully dipped in thick ink, hangs above the rice paper.

Satsuki's wrist dipped slightly, the brush tip was like a knife, and the last stroke was thrown out heavily, the force penetrating the back of the paper.

On the paper was a vividly written character: "Abandon".

Shuichi pushed open the door, bringing in a damp night breeze. He casually loosened his tie and tossed it onto the sofa, his voice revealing a relaxed weariness.

"Iwasaki agreed to wait and see. The money has been delivered."

"very good."

Satsuki didn't look up; she just stared quietly at the character.

"Daize must feel like the chosen one now, right?"

"Holding three hundred million in cash in hand, and standing on the crumbling Takeshita Clan." Shuichi poured himself a glass of water, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips. "Anyone in his shoes would feel that the clouds are within reach."

"Then let him crawl."

Satsuki placed the brush on the brush holder.

"If you don't climb to the very top, how will you make a sound when you fall?"

She turned around, her clear black and white eyes still carrying a hint of a smile.

"When the bubble bursts, the truth will no longer matter to the public."

"What they need is an object to vent their frustrations on, a name that can be nailed to the cross."

"Takeshita Noboru is too old; his blood isn't red enough."

Satsuki's voice was as soft as a sigh.

"Ichiro Osawa is the best sacrifice for the new era."

"I think he'll be remembered in history, won't he?"

......

Outside the window, the chirping of cicadas gradually subsided.

Meanwhile, in the brightly lit banquet hall of the ANA Hotel, Ichiro Osawa raised his glass, accepting the cheers and adoration of the young politicians. His face was flushed, and his eyes sparkled with boundless anticipation for the future.

He didn't know that the hand holding the wine glass had already been priced by fate.

And returns are not possible.