Reborn in Tokyo: From Heiress to Global Tycoon

Chapter 230 Traitor to the Nation

March 1, 1990.

Nikkei Average: 30,120 points

The House Budget Committee is holding a plenary session. It is being broadcast live nationwide.

The flashbulbs in the media section were like a crazy thunderstorm.

Representative Miyamoto stood in front of the microphone at the questioning stand.

This relatively inexperienced, young member of parliament, belonging to the Osawa faction, firmly gripped the edge of the wooden podium with both hands. Today, he wore a well-tailored dark gray suit and a neatly tied tie.

Facing the hostile gazes of the conservative lawmakers representing the interests of millions of small and medium-sized businesses across the country, Miyamoto's Adam's apple bobbed very slightly.

He was very clear about the role he was playing at that moment.

Two hours earlier, in the secretary-general's office in Nagata-cho, where the curtains were drawn, Ichiro Osawa pushed a draft of a question in front of him. The man behind the scenes had issued a death order with no room for negotiation.

As a promising newcomer being groomed by the faction, Miyamoto is well aware of the ruthless rules of the political game. Refusing to carry out orders will end his political career today; but if he successfully detonates this bomb, he will gain access to a massive amount of political resources and promotion opportunities poured into him by the faction's core.

He is a competent politician. In a very short time, he suppressed the instinctive fear in his heart of offending a powerful interest group.

I want to climb up...

Miyamoto took a deep breath of the stale air. He adjusted his breathing rhythm, stared directly at the cabinet seats in front of him, and his voice, amplified by the microphone, resounded clearly throughout the council chamber.

"Regarding the ongoing negotiations on the Japan-U.S. Structural Barriers Agreement (SII), the U.S. representative repeatedly emphasized that Japan's complex domestic distribution system and stringent retail restrictions constitute extremely serious non-tariff trade barriers."

Miyamoto spoke at a steady pace, with clear enunciation, and carried the sharp edge characteristic of a young, ambitious politician.

"Faced with these outdated regulations that hinder free trade between the two countries and drag down macroeconomic vitality, the cabinet has been slow to take any substantial action."

He paused briefly, his gaze sweeping over the conservative lawmakers whose faces were beginning to turn pale, and then issued his final ultimatum.

"On behalf of my colleagues within the party who echo the calls for reform, I publicly question the Cabinet. To align with the major trend of international free trade, the Cabinet must clearly state its position now, before the entire nation, and immediately initiate the substantive legislative process to abolish the Large Retail Store Law!"

This sentence echoed under the dome through the loudspeaker.

A strange, heavy feeling, lasting for several seconds, appeared in the air.

Many older conservative lawmakers didn't even react immediately. They exchanged bewildered glances, seemingly trying to confirm if they had misheard the word.

Should the Large Stores Act be repealed?

After a brief silence, a dense murmur, like the flapping of a swarm of bees, erupted. The buzzing quickly spread and amplified among the seated passengers.

"Are you kidding me...?"

"Has he gone mad? This is going to destroy the livelihoods of millions of people!"

The suspicion quickly escalated into uncontrollable shock and anger.

A senior member of the business and industrial class, sitting in the front row, suddenly stood up, gripping the armrest. His knee slammed heavily against the wooden table with a thud, but he seemed oblivious; his age-spotted face flushed a deep purple with rage.

"Take back your words! You lackey of the Osawa faction!" The old councilor pointed at Miyamoto on the questioning stand, his voice hoarse from cracking. "You're betraying the very foundation of the nation! You're handing over domestic commerce to foreigners! You traitor!"

He grabbed the heavy agenda documents on the table and slammed them forward.

The papers scattered in mid-air, falling like snowflakes.

This roar completely ignited the powder keg.

The Liberal Democratic Party's core voting base was openly torn apart at this moment.

Dozens of conservative lawmakers, representing the interests of lower-class shop owners, had bloodshot eyes. They pushed back their chairs, stepped out of their narrow seats, and surged forward, shouting curses as they pointed towards the questioning platform. Some even tried to rush onto the platform to grab the young lawmaker who had been spouting nonsense.

The younger members of the Osawa faction, seated on the other side, were prepared. They immediately stood up in groups and rushed towards the central aisle, forming a human wall to block the angry older members.

"What are you doing! This is the Capitol! Mind your manners!"

The people of the Oze faction roared back without backing down.

The two sides collided violently in the central aisle of the council chamber.

At first, it was just a collision of chests and finger jabs, but as the shouting and cursing escalated, emotions quickly spiraled out of control.

Expensive suits were roughly tugged, and silk ties were pulled out of shape. Curses, shouts, and the chaotic sound of leather shoes pounding on the wooden floor mingled together. Several TV station staff members, sweating profusely, blew whistles and desperately pushed their way through the crowd, trying to forcibly separate the grappling politicians, only to be pushed about by the frenzied wave of people.

The speaker stood on the high platform, sweating profusely as he frantically pounded the gavel.

The sharp, clanging sound of wood echoed through the loudspeaker, but it couldn't drown out the surging roar below.

Miyamoto stood on the interrogation platform. He looked down at his colleagues, who were usually so respectable but were now tearing each other apart like thugs, and his Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.

Phew... My mission is complete.

He bowed slightly, maintaining a proper posture, then turned and stepped down from the questioning platform, disappearing into the protective circle of the Osawa faction members.

The television cameras shook violently, broadcasting this farcical brawl within the Diet to every household in Japan without reservation.

……

Marunouchi, Tokyo. Saionji Industrial Headquarters, Underground Core Strategy Room.

A huge LCD screen hanging on the wall is broadcasting the brawl inside Congress in real time.

Executive Director Endo stood in front of the large screen.

His face, which had been tense from managing massive sums of money for days, finally relaxed. His furrowed brows loosened, and an uncontrollable smile of satisfaction appeared at the corners of his mouth.

He turned around and looked at Saionji Satsuki, who was sitting in the main seat, his tone filled with undisguised praise and admiration.

"Young Miss, Osawa Ichiro is a pragmatic person after all."

"I've been worried ever since you ordered the funds to be cut off from Daze. I was really afraid that if you pushed that old fox to the brink, he might do something desperate and cause a political backlash that would be hard to handle."

He pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, looked at the members of parliament wrestling on the screen over the "Large Stores Act," and couldn't help but chuckle briefly.

"It seems you were right after all. This old guy's will to survive... is truly astonishing."

Endo walked to the table and picked up the cup of warm black coffee.

"They're even abandoning the voter base of businesspeople and industrialists, risking a split within the ruling party to push through this bill..." He took a sip of coffee, savoring the bittersweet aftertaste, his tightly furrowed brows completely relaxing. "S-Mart is going to expand nationwide, and this legal constraint will have to be removed sooner or later. By now, he's willingly stepping forward to play the villain, saving the group at least three years of public relations time, and at least several billion in lobbying fees."

"Such devoted loyalty. It seems that Mr. Osawa has completely come to terms with reality and is ready to wholeheartedly pave the way for the Saionji family in the political arena."

The strategic room was very quiet, with only the server indicator lights flashing alternately, emitting a cold red and green light.

Satsuki sat upright in a large leather swivel chair.

Today she wore a minimalist dark blue flannel dress with a lapel collar, her fair wrists peeking out from the slightly rolled-up sleeves. Her long hair was simply tied back with a pure black velvet ribbon, without any embellishment.

Despite Endo's praise and optimism, Satsuki showed no joy.

She lowered her eyes slightly, looking at a blank memo on the rosewood table in front of her.

"Charge for us?"

"That's not necessarily true..."

Endo's smile faded slightly.

He keenly sensed the unusual meaning behind those words. He placed his coffee cup back on the saucer, his body unconsciously leaning forward slightly.

"Young Miss?" Endo's eyes flashed with doubt. "You mean... there's more to his plan than meets the eye in pushing this bill forward?"

Satsuki didn't offer any further explanation.

She turned her head slightly, her gaze falling on Shimomura Tsutomu, who was sitting in the corner of the control panel, chewing gum.

"Shimomura."

"Understood, Boss."

Shimomura Tsutomu spat out the bubbles in his mouth and rapidly tapped a few keys on the mechanical keyboard.

"Click".

The image on the huge display screen on the wall switched instantly. The noisy scene of the congressional brawl disappeared, replaced by several high-resolution black and white photos with a noticeable graininess.

The photo was taken from a hidden angle, clearly using a telephoto lens to capture the moment from a distance.

Endo stepped forward, his gaze fixed intently on the screen.

The first photo. In the cold rain of early spring, an ordinary black Crown sedan with no special markings is discreetly parked in the back alley of "Shototei," a high-end members-only tea house in the port area. The car door is half open, and a man in a dark trench coat is walking briskly towards the back door with his head down. Although the umbrella covers most of his face, Endo still recognizes him from the extremely clear profile shot. It's Ichiro Osawa.

The second photo. A dozen minutes later, another gray sedan with ordinary civilian license plates stopped at the entrance of the same alley.

The third photo shows a tall, blond Caucasian man stepping out of a gray sedan. He is wearing a low-key dark blue wool coat and enters the tea room, concealed by his entourage.

Endo could see the figure in the photo clearly.

He frowned slightly, and his body weight unconsciously shifted forward a little.

William, U.S. Economic Minister to Japan.

"Shototei. Ichiro Osawa. William, U.S. Minister."

Endo's voice was clearly filled with surprise.

"Why would Osawa secretly meet with Americans at this time?"

Satsuki leaned back in the leather chair, her hands clasped together on her knees.

"Think about it, Executive Director Endo."

Her voice spread smoothly through the temperature-controlled strategic room.

"We recently drained the liquidity from the lower levels, cutting off the lifeline of his faction's financial backers. Given Osawa's ambitious nature, having been pushed to the brink, do you think he'll just sit and wait to die?"

Endo pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, his mind quickly working through the logic.

"He'll definitely look for new sources of funding. But..." Endo hesitated for a moment, "the Americans can't provide him with domestic votes or donation channels."

"Americans really can't give their votes at home."

Satsuki glanced at the photo of Minister William on the screen.

"Unfortunately, politically, Japan and the United States are not on equal footing. In the past few years, at the negotiating table for the Japan-U.S. structural obstacles agreement, politicians in Washington have consistently used the repeal of the Large Stores Act as a core demand to exert pressure."

These words were like a bolt of lightning, cleaving through the fog in Endo's mind.

He turned his head and looked at the black and white photos on the screen.

"So..." Endo's speech quickened, "His attack on Congress today had absolutely nothing to do with S-Mart's expansion. Was he risking the livelihoods of all of Japan's small and medium-sized retailers to make a deal with Washington?"

"This is called a pledge of allegiance."

"Just like when he betrayed Takeshita and joined us."

Satsuki leaned forward slightly.

"Politicians who crave power in dire straits, high-ranking U.S. officials who secretly make contact with each other, plus an extreme bill that caters to the core interests of the United States and is forced to be pushed forward even at the cost of tearing apart the domestic camp."

"Put these pieces together."

Satsuki raised her head and looked at Endo.

"There is a very high probability that Ichiro Osawa has already defected. He intends to sacrifice the entire retail economic barrier of Japan to Washington, in exchange for far more than just political asylum."

"He still needs the Americans to help him remove the noose around his neck. That means us."

"He is trying to persuade the Americans to use their executive power to deal with the Saionji family. In today's world, only the 'long-arm jurisdiction' of a superpower can forcefully break through our legal firewall. Washington will most likely use the pretext of national security review to strangle our overseas funding channels in return."

The air in the strategic room cooled rapidly. The dull hum of the exhaust fan sounded unusually clear at this moment.

After hearing this deduction, Endo's brows furrowed tightly.

"Young Miss".

Endo took a deep breath and slowed his speech.

"We have already completed the legal separation of our offshore pools in the Cayman Islands and Luxembourg through umbrella trusts. Even if the Americans want to seize them, Frank's legal team is capable of delaying their administrative review for years in the face of that level of transnational jurisdictional dispute. It will be difficult for them to cause us substantial physical harm in the short term."

"Your perspective is limited by legal principles, Executive Director Endo."

Satsuki looked at the photos on the screen.

"In the face of absolute hegemony, a court summons is less important than a disconnected internet cable. Washington doesn't need to go through the lengthy hearing process. Just make a call to the clearinghouse on Wall Street and, in the name of national security, cut off the underlying settlement routing."

"Our funds still legally belong to us, but physically they will instantly become a bunch of dead numbers that cannot be allocated."

Endo's back tensed slightly, and a thin layer of sweat appeared on his forehead.

That's right, Americans' credibility is basically something you can use to wipe your own ass; they're absolutely capable of doing something like this.

He looked at Satsuki's calm face. Doubts grew wildly in his heart like weeds.

"Young Miss..." Endo's voice was somewhat hoarse.

"Since you anticipated his betrayal and guessed that he would seek help from the Americans to attack us..."

He couldn't understand this decision, which went against common sense in business risk management.

"Why deliberately put pressure on him and push him towards the Americans? We could easily stabilize him first and avoid this risk..."

He knew it would drive people away, but he did it anyway. Knowing Satsuki as he did, he would never make such a basic mistake.

Satsuki did not answer immediately.

She turned her gaze back to the huge display screen on the wall.

Shimomura Tsutomu had already switched the camera back to the live broadcast from the Diet building. The pushing and shoving and shouting inside the chamber continued, and torn documents were flying through the air.

"Keep him calm?"

Satsuki looked at the chaos on the screen, her tone calm.

"And then slowly sink along with this battered, wrecked ship?"

"Executive Director Endo. This impending economic hard landing that will engulf all of Japan was orchestrated by us. We hold the valve that dries up market liquidity in our hands."

Satsuki looked away.

"When the avalanche really comes, the market will collapse. Countless companies that rely on high leverage will go bankrupt instantly, factories will close down, and a massive wave of unemployment will sweep the country. Those middle-class people who were spending lavishly in Kabukicho yesterday will be lining up to jump off buildings tomorrow."

"This kind of despair, which affects the entire country and destroys countless families, can turn into a cannibalistic rage once it spreads."

Satsuki's eyes were deep, revealing a hint of indifference.

"The Saionji family intends to use US dollars to seize all the country's valuable assets from the ruins. If you were one of those citizens who have lost everything, how would you feel seeing us making a fortune at this time?"

Endo stood still.

"They'll tear us to pieces..." Endo murmured.

"yes."

Satsuki's lips curled into a very faint smile.

"If we want to build a new order from the ruins, we can't afford to be associated with anything that caused the economic crisis. We need a firewall. A target that can draw all of Japan's anger to."

"We are the murderers, but we cannot be the murderers."

The vast outline of the "scapegoat" gradually became clear in Endo's mind.

"Ichiro Osawa thought he had found Washington as a savior in his desperate situation."

"He colluded with the US ambassador in private. For his own political gain, he personally smashed down the legal barriers protecting domestic small and medium-sized enterprises. He brought in foreign capital from Wall Street to short-sell Japan."

Satsuki's voice was very soft.

"Is there a more perfect traitor to the nation than this?"

"When the Great Depression arrives, there will naturally be righteous citizens who will use evidence provided by righteous individuals to expose this hypocritical politician who colludes with foreign capital for personal gain and harms the interests of his own country."

"At that time, the anger of the entire Japanese people, the despair of bankrupt shareholders and unemployed workers will be poured on this politician who, for his own political gain, sold out the country's economic barriers and allowed Wall Street foreign capital to short-sell Japan."

"As for us..."

Satsuki picked up the cup of red tea from the table.

She gazed at the reflection of the murky tea in the cup, a gentle, refined smile curving her lips.

"Naturally, he is here as the sole savior to save Japan."

Endo stood in front of the screen.

He looked at the screen at Representative Miyamoto, who, despite having stepped down from the questioning platform, was still being protected in the center by the Osawa faction, and then he thought of Osawa Ichiro, who was hiding behind the scenes.

"This...is really..."

He once again realized that his young mistress was truly an exceptionally brilliant strategist. She could utilize everything, whether good or bad, to ultimately achieve her goals.

"Alright, we shouldn't disturb bad guys when they're doing bad things."

Satsuki stretched out her right hand and picked up the remote control that was placed on the rosewood table.

"Next up is Mr. Osawa's turn to perform."

Press the red power button with your thumb.

"Click."

The noisy congressional scene on the wall shrank to a glaring white dot in an instant, before fading into pure black.