novelslam Chapter 108 It's getting dark, please close your eyes.
Chapter 108 It's getting dark, please close your eyes.
August 3, 1988, 10:00 AM.
Tokyo, Tsukiji.
Inside the Asahi Shimbun's Tokyo headquarters building, the central air conditioning was running at full capacity, yet it still couldn't suppress the restless, sweltering heat in the social affairs department office. The smell of hundreds of men's sweat mingled with the odors of cigarettes and coffee—it was truly unpleasant.
The phone rang incessantly, and the startled cicadas screeched incessantly since dawn.
Reporter Yamamoto slumped over his desk, his tie loosened and hanging around his neck, a large dark sweat stain seeping from under his shirt armpit. A pile of scrap paper and crumpled cigarette boxes lay before him, and in his hand he held a ballpoint pen covered in teeth marks, unconsciously scribbling messy lines in his notebook.
The bribery investigation in Kawasaki City has reached a stalemate. The deputy mayor, Komatsu, is as stubborn as a dead man's teeth; even after the Special Investigation Department has turned his office upside down, he insists that all stock transactions were legitimate private investments.
The trail went cold.
"Yamamoto! Your package!"
The girl at the front desk, holding a thick brown paper envelope, called out across the messy aisle and casually tossed the envelope onto Yamamoto's table, which was piled high with trash.
"Smack."
The envelope slammed against the glass ashtray, which was full of cigarette ash, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Yamamoto listlessly raised his head and wiped the oil and sweat from his face.
Who sent it?
"No name was written on it. They said it was a motorcycle delivery, and they left after dropping off the things."
Yamamoto frowned. As a reporter in the social affairs department specializing in covering shady politics, the anonymous packages he received usually contained only two things: worthless ramblings or evidence that could cost him his life.
However, it is usually the former.
Last time, thanks to that anonymous package, Yamamoto really made a big splash. It also moved the case forward quite a bit—although it's stalled again now.
But how could such good luck possibly favor him every time?
He picked up the paper cutter and casually cut open the seal.
A stack of photocopies slid out. The paper was new, with sharp edges, and emitted a faint smell of static electricity.
Yamamoto casually glanced at the top sheet of paper.
It was a "Stock Transfer Agreement". The transferor was "Licourt Cosmos", and the transferee was an unfamiliar name - "Noda Miyoko".
His hand froze in mid-air. Although the name was unfamiliar, he was now paying extra attention to anything related to the word "Licurut".
...Could it be that...?
Yamamoto forced himself to suppress his excitement, trying his best not to let his trembling hands crumple the paper.
His gaze fell on the next sheet of paper. It was a photocopy of a family register, clearly indicating Noda Miyoko's relationship with the head of household: wife.
The name in the head of household section was circled with a thick black marker:
Kenji Noda.
Yamamoto's pupils contracted sharply.
He quickly threw down his pen, his hands trembling as he grabbed the stack of documents and began frantically flipping through them like a hungry wolf that had smelled blood.
Kenji Noda is currently the Director of the Construction Guidance Bureau of the Ministry of Construction.
This is the same man who, a month ago, personally sealed off the Saionji family home under the pretext of "earthquake safety."
Yamamoto continued flipping through the pages.
It's not just Noda.
The documents also included the brother-in-law of the head of the Fire Department's Prevention Division and the daughter of a reviewer at the Tokyo Metropolitan Government's Urban Planning Bureau...
This thick stack of papers is like a meticulously drawn anatomical diagram, precisely cutting open the most hidden and greedy vein in the Japanese bureaucratic system.
All the names point to a common characteristic: they are all mid-level bureaucrats who wield real power and are responsible for specific administrative approvals.
Moreover, they all acquired a large number of original shares at extremely low prices before Recruit's subsidiaries went public, in a non-public manner.
"Impossible...this is..."
Yamamoto muttered to himself, his throat dry. He felt all the blood rushing to his brain, even his fingertips were cold from excessive excitement.
He suddenly stood up, the chair scraping against the floor with a screeching sound, drawing the attention of his colleagues.
Yamamoto didn't bother to explain. He grabbed the envelope, not even bothering to put on his coat, and stumbled towards the editor-in-chief's office.
……
Two o'clock in the afternoon.
Xiaguan, where the provincial building is being constructed.
The cicadas outside the window were chirping desperately, and the scorching sun felt like it was peeling away the layer of reinforced concrete.
The air conditioning in the director's office was on full blast, making it even a bit chilly.
Director Noda sat behind his large desk, holding a rectification report on the "SA Crystal Palace" project.
As long as he signs it, indicating that "the rectification has not yet met the standards," the Saionji family's construction site will have to remain shut down, and that damned zaibatsu will have to continue bleeding money. This is a death order from Secretary-General Kanemaru Shin.
Noda picked up the pen, the nib hovering over the paper.
But he didn't make a move for a long time.
For the past few days, his right eyelid has been twitching. The feeling of unease is like having a gun pointed at the back of your head, but not knowing when the person pulling the trigger will do it.
Such ominous premonitions are usually quite accurate. After all, as far as he knew, none of these zaibatsu were kind-hearted people, and the fact that Saionji was so quiet now meant that nothing good was going to happen...
"Thump, thump".
A knock came at the door.
It wasn't the gentle rhythm of a secretary's taps, but two dull, forceful knocks.
Noda's hand trembled, and a drop of ink fell onto the document, spreading into an ugly black dot.
He felt himself becoming increasingly neurotic lately. He lowered his head and wearily rubbed his temples.
"Come in."
The door was pushed open.
Instead of his secretary, three men in dark gray suits walked in.
They weren't wearing badges that signify civil servants, their ties were impeccably tied, and they carried the kind of black duralumin briefcases that only prosecutors would use.
not good!!!
Noda felt a chill run straight to the top of his head, and his toes went numb.
Tokyo District Public Prosecutors Office Special Investigation Department.
The middle-aged man leading the group walked to the table without bowing or shaking hands. He took a black leather wallet from his jacket pocket, unfolded it, and revealed the gold Autumn Frost Sun badge.
"Chief Kenji Noda?"
The man's voice was as calm as a stagnant pool.
"I am Sakuma from the Second Investigation Division of the Special Investigation Department."
Noda felt as if an invisible hand was gripping his throat. He tried to stand up, but found his legs were as weak as noodles.
"Is there...something wrong?" He forced an awkward smile.
"Regarding the transfer of unlisted shares of Recruit Cosmos."
Without wasting any words, Sakuma placed a summons on the table, covering the unsigned rectification report.
"We have discovered that your wife, Miyoko Noda, holds 3,000 shares of the company's stock. Moreover, the funds for purchasing these shares were provided by an unsecured loan from First Financial Company, a subsidiary of Recruit."
"I'd like to ask, were you aware of this transaction?"
Noda's face turned deathly pale instantly, and cold sweat trickled down his forehead and dripped onto the collar of his expensive shirt.
"That's...that's my wife's secret stash of money...I didn't know..."
"Is it because you're unsure, or is it inconvenient for you to say?"
Sakuma leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp and fixed on Noda's shifty eyes.
"Chief, we also found some interesting financial transactions in your brother-in-law's account. If you can't remember them now, that's okay."
He made a "please" gesture.
"Please come with us to the District Attorney's Office to assist with the investigation. The coffee there is very stimulating; it might help you recover your memory."
Noda slumped into a chair.
Ha...Am I also one of the sacrifices?
He looked at the black briefcase, then at the document on the table concerning the Saionji family.
He certainly understood that this was no coincidence.
Instead of targeting a powerful figure like Kanemaru Shin, the Saionji family put a knife to the neck of someone like him who was actually carrying out the plan.
"I...I'll make a phone call."
Noda's voice trembled, like a drowning person crying for help.
"Can."
Sakuma glanced at his watch, his expression indifferent.
"You have three minutes."
……
3 PM.
Office of the Secretary-General of the Liberal Democratic Party, Nagata-cho.
The curtains in the room were drawn, making the room dimly lit.
The phone rang abruptly, breaking the silence in the room.
Shin Kanemaru was flipping through a list of party coordinators regarding the consumption tax bill. He picked up the receiver impatiently.
"Feed".
"Secretary-General...it's me, Noda."
The voice on the other end of the phone was choked with sobs, accompanied by the sound of teeth chattering.
"Special Investigation Department... People from the Special Investigation Department are in my office. They're taking me away."
Shin Kanemaru's fingers tightened suddenly, almost crushing the expensive Montblanc pen in his hand.
"What's the panic!"
He lowered his voice, his tone revealing a ruthless edge.
"You're just assisting with the investigation. You know nothing; your wife bought it herself. Stick to that."
"But...but they have remittance slips! And my brother-in-law's account records!"
Noda's emotions had clearly collapsed.
"Chief, please save me... I went to the Saionji family's construction site on your orders... If I get in, I..."
Are you threatening me?
Shin Kanemaru's voice instantly turned cold, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue.
"Noda, you should know the rules. Keep your mouth shut, and your family will be taken care of. If you talk nonsense..."
"I don't want to go to jail!"
Noda suddenly roared on the other end of the phone, his voice shrill and stern.
"That Saionji family... they're insane! Who knows what they'll do if you push them too far! They definitely have something else up their sleeve! Secretary-General, I'm quitting! I haven't signed that rectification report yet! I don't want to be a scapegoat!"
"Baka!"
Shin Kanemaru cursed angrily, but the line went dead.
"Beep—beep—beep—"
Shin Kanemaru slowly put down the receiver.
His face was terribly gloomy, and the fleshy parts of his face were twitching slightly.
He took a cigar out of the cigarette case and tried to light it, but the lighter failed to ignite it after several attempts.
"Smack."
He angrily slammed the lighter onto the carpet; the expensive metal body bounced a few times before rolling into the corner.
"Saionji Temple..."
He squeezed out those three words through gritted teeth.
He had initially thought the other party was just a businessman with some money, who might at most try to get a few members of Congress to plead his case. He never expected the other party to go to such lengths. This was undermining him, digging him out of his system!
"Thump, thump".
A knock sounded at the door. Ichiro Ozawa pushed the door open and walked in, holding a newly faxed briefing in his hand, his face also looking very grim.
"Teacher, something's happened at the Ministry of Construction. The Special Investigation Department just took Director Noda away, and the gate is surrounded by reporters."
Ichiro Ozawa paused, then tentatively asked:
"Noda has been taken away, and there's a lot of panic in the Ministry of Construction. Regarding the halting order for the Saionji family's construction site... should we temporarily withdraw it? Public opinion is very unfavorable for us right now, and if we continue the blockade, it might provoke an even bigger backlash."
The room fell into dead silence.
Shin Kanemaru sat in the shadows, like a wounded beast. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were bloodshot.
withdraw?
Withdrawing now would be tantamount to bowing down to that young brat! It would be telling everyone that Kanemaru Shin is afraid!
"No withdrawal allowed."
Shin Kanemaru's voice was hoarse, carrying a ruthless edge born of desperation.
"As long as I remain the Secretary-General of the Liberal Democratic Party, that construction site will not be allowed to resume work! Have the Ministry of Construction hold them accountable! Anyone who dares to give way will be made to shut down this industry!"
"But, teacher..." Ozawa Ichiro frowned, seemingly feeling that this was not a rational idea.
"go out!"
Shin Kanemaru abruptly waved his hand, interrupting Ozawa.
"Tell them this is war! Anyone who dares to desert will suffer the same fate as Noda!"
Ichiro Ozawa gave Shin Kanemaru, who was on the verge of exploding with rage, a deep look. His lips moved, but he ultimately said nothing.
He bowed slightly.
"Yes."
Xiaoze left and gently closed the door.
At the moment the door closed, Shin Kanemaru didn't see the flicker of disappointment in Ichiro Ozawa's eyes.
He knew that the ship's helmsman had lost his mind.
On this stormy night, the crew members, in order to survive, would not go down with the mad captain.
……
At dusk.
Bunkyo District, Saionji Headquarters.
The last rays of the setting sun had faded, and the courtyard was shrouded in the deep blue of night. The air was filled with the distinctive pyrethrum scent of mosquito repellent.
Satsuki, dressed in a light pink yukata, squatted on the stone steps beside the edge. In her hand, she held a thin paper wick—an incense stick.
"laugh--"
The match was struck and lit.
She carefully leaned closer and lit the tip of the sparkler.
A bright orange spark bloomed in the darkness, emitting an extremely faint "hissing" sound. Sparks sprayed in all directions, like a blooming pine needle peony.
"Young Miss, mission accomplished. Very well done."
Dojima Yan stood in the shadows under the corridor, his voice low, as if he did not want to disturb that fragile flame.
"The documents were sent from a public phone booth's parcel locker. Notably, no fingerprints were left, witnesses have been ruled out, and the parcel bag was purchased at a flea market."
"Where is that reporter?"
Satsuki stared at the trembling flame in her hand and asked without turning her head.
"Yamamoto is a smart man. He only wants to create big news and doesn't want to cause trouble. Just like last time, he will treat this as the result of his own 'investigation' and will never utter a word about it."
"very good."
Satsuki's fingers were steady, but the burning fireball began to tremble violently under the influence of gravity.
The clump of orange-red lava hung precariously from the end of the charred paper twist, as if it might break at any moment.
"Look, Dojima."
Satsuki's gaze was fixed on the fireball that was about to fall, her pupils reflecting the light before destruction.
"It's burning brightest and most beautifully now. Like those bureaucrats who hold power, or that old man sitting in the secretary-general's seat."
"They clung tightly to that fragile paper rope, thinking they could hang on it forever and shine."
"but……"
Before he could finish speaking...
"Clatter".
Unable to bear the weight, the fireball finally broke and fell onto the bluestone slab, extinguishing instantly and leaving only a wisp of smoke and a charred mark.
Satsuki loosened her grip and threw away the burnt-out paper wick in her hand.
"Gravity is irresistible."
She stood up, patted off the non-existent dust from the hem of her yukata, and looked at the charred patch at her feet.
"When they feed themselves too much, that's when they fall."
"Noda was just the first fireball to fall."
Satsuki turned around and walked into the house, leaving behind only a cold and aloof figure.
"Get ready, Dojima."
"Many people in Tokyo will be unable to sleep tonight."
Dojima glanced deeply at the charred area, lost in thought. Then he quickly followed Satsuki.
The wind blows through the courtyard.
The smoke from the incense and fireworks completely dissipated.
The wind chimes hanging under the eaves made a crisp "ding-a-ling" sound, which sounded like the sound of funeral bells in the quiet summer night.
it's dark.