Twelve hours after Satsuki fell into a coma.
Chiyoda Ward. A private luxury hotel suite.
The sweltering July rain hammered against the floor-to-ceiling windows. Water tracked down the glass, blurring the hard outline of the concrete and steel city beyond.
Managing Director Endo sat upright on a wide leather sofa. Today he wore a charcoal custom-tailored suit, and the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose caught the cool ceiling lights.
His hands rested steadily on his knees, his gaze crossing the marble coffee table to the man opposite him.
Vice President Kagawa of Fuji Bank slumped in the single chair across from him.
This senior bureaucrat, who usually commanded Marunouchi's financial circles and controlled tens of billions in credit approvals, was still trying to maintain a proper posture.
But the fine sheen of sweat on his forehead glittered under the lights. His fingers kept tightening on his knees, and his heavy breathing betrayed the turmoil inside.
The moment he saw Managing Director Endo of the Saionji Group arrive in person, he'd known something was wrong. He hadn't expected his hunch to be this accurate.
Two documents lay flat on the coffee table.
On the left were several financial statements with clear photocopy marks. They detailed how Vice President Kagawa had illegally transferred several billion yen in investment losses to shell companies over the past two years using "Tobashi" accounts.
On the right was the "Agreement for Divestment and Transfer of Underlying Semiconductor Non-Performing Loans" drafted by Saionji Industries' legal department.
"Vice President Kagawa," Endo said.
He reached out and picked up a bone china teacup from the table.
"An overseas trust fund is willing to take over the entire batch of semiconductor NPLs currently held by your bank at ten percent of book value."
"This includes the priority payment rights for Tokyo Optical Precision. And the underlying mortgage certificates for the core factories and high-precision multi-axis machine tools under Kanto Special Chemical. All creditor-debtor relationships will undergo direct legal substitution."
Endo lowered his head and blew on the steam rising from the tea.
"As long as you sign the last page and stamp it with Fuji Bank's corporate seal, the photocopies on the left regarding your illegal off-balance-sheet transfers…"
He lifted his eyes, his gaze settling on the other man's sweat-beaded forehead through his lenses.
"…along with all the original fund-flow records and your signature slips in the Saionji Information System database, will be shredded and have their underlying data overwritten within an hour of the debt transfer confirmation. Certain people—for example, prosecutors from the Special Investigation Department—will never see them."
Vice President Kagawa's Adam's apple bobbed.
He stared at the ironclad evidence on the left—enough to destroy his reputation and land him charges of breach of trust and falsifying accounts. The cold sweat on his forehead slid down his cheek, but he didn't dare wipe it.
The Ministry of Finance's audits were getting stricter. If this material landed on the Tokyo District Public Prosecutors Office's desk, he wouldn't just face forced resignation. He'd face ten years in prison and the social ruin of his entire family.
But… ten percent.
Vice President Kagawa glanced at the divestment agreement on the right.
These vampires.
Those semiconductor companies had fallen into a severe debt crisis due to the liquidity drought, yes. But the high-precision multi-axis machine tools and special optical glass molding lines in their factories were solid hard assets. Even liquidated as scrap, they would never drop to ten percent. That was robbery in daylight.
The Saionji Family was taking advantage of the fire, ripping the most valuable assets straight from Fuji Bank's mouth.
"Managing Director Endo…"
Vice President Kagawa wiped his forehead with his hand. His voice was dry, with a tremor he couldn't hide.
"The underlying assets in this batch of semiconductor debt have extremely high technical value, even in the current downturn. The transfer price your side is offering is too low. If I sign at this price, I can't give the board a reasonable explanation."
He tried a standard commercial tug-of-war, his eyes pleading.
"Could you… raise it a few points? Even fifteen percent. So I can give the President something to work with."
Endo set the bone china teacup down. He let it clink sharply. Vice President Kagawa flinched.
"An explanation to the board?"
Endo pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses.
"Vice President Kagawa, losses on paper can be smoothed with financial means. If the person goes inside, everything is gone."
"I think you know which is the better choice, right?"
Endo stared expressionlessly into Vice President Kagawa's eyes.
One second. Two seconds.
Under Endo's gaze, Vice President Kagawa seemed to forget all his usual rhetoric.
His lips trembled, but no words came out.
"I… I…"
Should he refuse them? No. If even a fraction of this got out, he was finished…
Just as he was about to give in, Endo turned his head again.
From the black briefcase beside him, he pulled out another thin document and slid it gently across the marble table.
"Of course. The Saionji Family values its long-term friendship with major financial institutions. We don't wish to make things too difficult for you at head office."
Endo's tone shifted smoothly into reassuring business mode.
After the stick, the carrot had to come at the right time.
"The thirty S-Mart supermarkets in the Kanto region. Next month is the Obon Festival summer sales war, followed immediately by the bank's interim settlement in September."
Endo watched Vice President Kagawa's eyes light up.
"If you sign this agreement today, I can promise that in the last business week of September's first-half settlement, approximately thirty billion yen of S-Mart's Kanto regional summer revenue will be transferred entirely into the clearing account of the core branch you oversee."
Vice President Kagawa's breathing grew heavy.
A year-end revenue transfer of thirty billion yen.
With the Ministry of Finance tightening credit and the whole industry in a liquidity drought, branch managers were being driven to the brink to meet year-end deposit targets.
This cash flow from the sky would make his branch number one nationwide in head office's year-end evaluation.
That kind of achievement could cover the loss from selling the semiconductor bad debt at a low price. It might even move him up in next year's board reshuffle.
This carrot was too sweet.
But.
Vice President Kagawa looked at Endo's composed face. Years in upper finance made him uneasy.
He felt the other side was conceding too easily. If the Saionji Family was willing to provide this level of transaction support, they wanted these semiconductor assets badly.
In this game, his cards weren't all bad.
If he could bypass Endo and talk directly to the top of the Saionji Family… relying on 'old favors' from when Fuji Bank provided financing during the Saionji Family's early days, he might squeeze out a few hundred million more in premium, or ask for practical cash compensation.
Vice President Kagawa took a deep breath and sat up straighter.
"Managing Director Endo. I'm grateful for your sincerity."
He swallowed, testing the water.
"But a major restructuring involving billions in underlying assets and the clearing of Tobashi accounts—Fuji Bank's process requires final coordination at the top level."
Vice President Kagawa's gaze locked on Endo's eyes.
"This is significant. I hope to speak directly with Family Head Shuichi, or perhaps Eldest Miss Satsuki. We can sit down and finalize the premium and transaction flow details. What do you think?"
The sound of raindrops against the windows felt loud in the suite.
Endo's eye twitched, almost imperceptibly.
But his breathing stayed steady. His right hand rested casually on his suit pants.
His amicable expression vanished. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his tone turned cold and hard.
"Vice President Kagawa."
"You seem to misunderstand the nature of today's conversation."
Faced with the sudden shift, Kagawa realized something was wrong.
"I think you are in no position to bargain."
"If you do not sign the agreement by twelve o'clock noon today."
He raised his wrist and glanced at the silver Patek Philippe.
"It is now 11:40. In twenty minutes, the legal department's underlying program will automatically trigger a warning mechanism. All materials regarding your Tobashi accounts will be sent to the Special Investigation Department's encrypted email as an anonymous tip."
Endo watched Vice President Kagawa's face go pale.
"Once the system starts, even I don't have the authority to stop it. You want to talk about personal favors? I'm afraid you'll have to talk to the prosecutors at the Special Investigation Department."
"Oh, and do you have any 'personal favors' there? We, the Saionji Family, do. But… our efforts might not go in the direction you want."
The air in the suite seemed to vanish.
Vice President Kagawa leaned stiffly against the sofa.
He seemed to have forgotten one thing: the person across from him was here to rob him.
Was he bargaining with a robber? The knife was already at his stomach.
"I… I'll sign."
A dry rasp came from Vice President Kagawa's throat.
He reached out with trembling hands and grabbed the black pen on the table.
On the last page of the "Underlying Semiconductor Non-Performing Debt Stripping and Transfer Agreement," he quickly signed his name. Then he took the corporate seal from his briefcase.
He pressed it heavily into the red ink pad.
"Thud."
The bright red mark sank deep into the paper.
Managing Director Endo watched the seal fall and nodded with satisfaction.
He gathered the stripping agreement and the Tobashi copies with both hands and placed them into his black briefcase.
"Pleasure doing business, Vice President Kagawa," Endo said.
He stood and smoothed his suit.
"The S-Mart funds will arrive in your branch account on time in September."
He bowed slightly and turned toward the foyer.
…
New York, Lower Manhattan.
Deep in the night, Manhattan was wrapped in a rare rainstorm.
The gale whipped a dense curtain of water, scouring the city again and again.
S.A. Investment trading floor.
Inside, hundreds of server fans emitted a steady, low-frequency roar.
Dozens of quantitative traders sat at anti-static swivel chairs, fingers flying over mechanical keyboards.
Frank stood in front of the main console.
"Goldman Sachs channel, third Total Return Swap based on the ISDA Master Agreement confirmed. Underlying position split complete," Chief Actuary David said, looking up from his keyboard.
"Dark pool connections with Morgan Stanley, Merrill Lynch, and Lehman Brothers are all cleared. The OTC pool for crude oil call options, plus the corresponding margin exposure…"
David looked at the data on the screen.
"…have all been routed around Salomon Brothers per the parameters. They've been evenly distributed to the top ten oligopoly clearing seats on Wall Street."
Frank nodded slightly.
"Maintain radio silence. Wait for settlement confirmations from each firm. Watch the margin volatility threshold."
Forcibly carving up a pool that once belonged to one oligopoly and distributing it among all its rivals—this kind of 'scavenging' on Wall Street would make a certain firm nervous.
Frank checked his watch and looked toward a black business phone on the console.
Right on schedule, the landline rang.
David tensed. He scanned the monitor and glanced at the caller ID.
"It's here," David said quietly, looking at Frank. "Williams, Senior Partner of Salomon Brothers' Asia Division."
Frank's expression didn't change. He reached out and picked up the receiver.
"Mr. Williams. Calling late at night. Is there an urgent settlement matter?"
On the other end came Williams' voice, aged but elegant. Tonight, the elegance carried a trace of vigilance and displeasure.
"Mr. Frank. Apologies for disturbing you this late."
Williams spoke half a beat slower than usual.
"Salomon Brothers' clearing center just captured some… interesting capital flows in the underlying accounts. A large crude oil OTC pool under S.A. Investment seems to have bypassed the exclusive channel we established. The funds trail to various major houses."
The old man paused.
"President Gutfreund has expressed concern. We deeply value our alliance with the Saionji Family. I wonder… has Salomon's service quality caused Miss Saionji any dissatisfaction?"
Frank leaned against the edge of the main console, his posture relaxed.
"Mr. Williams. You and President Gutfreund are overthinking this."
There was even a faint smile in Frank's tone.
"Headquarters recently ran a routine stress test on Middle East geopolitics. To hedge against the low-probability risk of energy price swings, we did add a negligible amount of crude oil hedging positions in the OTC market."
He shifted.
"As Chief Risk Officer, you know the strict definition of 'Counterparty Risk' in the Basel Accords better than I do. The group's independent audit committee in the Far East issued an order. For high-volatility commodity positions, we cannot bind all clearing channels to a single market maker."
Frank's fingers tapped lightly on the desk.
"Limited by unilateral risk exposure limits under ISDA, we could only distribute the 'scraps' of this crude oil pool to Goldman and the others. It's just a physical isolation based on risk models. A necessary measure."
"If this caused any discomfort, we deeply apologize and ask for your understanding."
The other end went quiet.
Williams was evaluating the explanation.
As Chief Risk Officer, he couldn't professionally refute an operation that complied with regulatory standards.
The explanation was solid and left no opening, but he still felt something was off.
But Frank didn't wait for him to digest it.
"Mr. Williams," Frank said, his tone light.
"The crude oil side is just scattered hedges. Compared to the pool we have in your dark pool, it's nothing."
"A Nikkei short position with a notional principal of 300 billion. That's the group's underlying position for the second half of the year."
"Settlement and clearing after maturity will still run through Salomon's channel. As for those crude oil orders… I think President Gutfreund shouldn't mind too much, right?"
On the other end, the faint hum of the transoceanic fiber lasted two seconds.
"I see. It seems our risk control model was too sensitive," Williams said, his voice returning to elegant calm.
"Salomon Brothers fully understands your compliant operations. Please convey my sincerest regards to Miss Saionji." The old man even joked, "Manhattan's rainy season is always annoying. I hope the weather won't affect your weekend."
Frank also laughed.
"Thank you for your regards. Good night."