# Note
Hello guys, we finally reach the latest chapter with original source material, so update will follow accordingly 😇🙏
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Tokyo, Narita International Airport.
The automatic glass doors of the VIP arrival area slid open. Cold air from inside collided with the warmer air outside at the threshold.
Saionji Shuichi, wearing a dark gray casual suit, stood outside the cordon at the exit. His gaze moved past several security personnel and settled deep inside the passage.
Satsuki walked out, with Fujita Tsuyoshi at her side.
She wore a cream-white, sleeveless dress and walked with a steady stride. Fujita followed half a step behind, carrying a small aviation-grade cold-chain box. The box was coated in silver thermal material, and the digital display on the handle blinked green: 4.0℃.
When she saw Shuichi beyond the cordon, Satsuki's pace lightened. She hurried toward him.
Even though her father had been buried in work since she delegated her authority, he still insisted on picking her up from the airport whenever she returned from abroad, no matter how busy he was.
She would have to keep her next return a secret from him.
She stopped in front of Shuichi and gave him a gentle smile.
"Father, I'm back."
Looking at his daughter, the tension Shuichi had carried for days finally eased. A soft smile reached his eyes. "Welcome back. That long flight must have been exhausting."
Satsuki shook her head lightly.
"Not at all. You should be the one focusing on rest, Father."
"Oh, right. I brought you a local specialty."
She turned and took the cold-chain box from Fujita. It was heavy, and she handed it over with some effort.
"I thought about bringing back a cup of crude oil as a souvenir, but I figured this would suit you better."
Shuichi reached out with both hands and accepted it, eyeing the box curiously. Knowing his daughter, could she have taken some reagent from a bio lab? Or a resin compound for next-generation semiconductor packaging?
Surely it wasn't a blood sample from some Washington politician.
He steadied the box. This "core asset" could be worth hundreds of millions, or even billions. He braced himself, his expression hardening as he prepared for a top-secret briefing on transnational espionage and geopolitics.
"This was packed from a motel off a Texas highway," Satsuki said, looking at the box. Her tone turned serious as she reported, word by word, "Authentic low-temperature, slow-smoked beef brisket. They used local Texas mesquite wood and smoked it for over twelve hours. The charred bark blends perfectly with the fat inside. The taste is superb."
Shuichi's arms froze midair.
Texas… smoked brisket?
This wasn't the remains of some politician?
He looked down at the expensive, independently powered cold-chain unit, then up at his daughter's earnest face.
Fine. It really was just smoked brisket.
Shuichi laughed, relieved, and handed the box to the security officer beside him.
Typical Satsuki.
"You put thought into this," he said. "Since you just got off the plane, let's get a meal to welcome you home."
"Sure," Satsuki agreed readily. Delivering a food gift had put her in a good mood.
The two turned and walked toward the black Toyota Century parked outside the VIP passage. The butler opened the door, and Satsuki and Shuichi climbed in one after the other.
The heavy, bulletproof door closed, sealing out the warm air and airport noise.
Inside, the vents delivered cool air.
The car started and glided onto the airport expressway.
Shuichi watched the road signs and concrete pillars of the overpasses slip by, already calculating where to eat.
"How about Kitcho in Tsukiji?" he asked, turning to Satsuki. "I'll have my secretary call. They can clear a quiet private room today. Or we could go to Apicius in Ginza for French. You just got back from America, so you've probably had plenty of heavy food. Some light kaiseki or formal Western cuisine might be better for your stomach."
Satsuki leaned back against the soft leather seat.
She toyed with an ugly Statue of Liberty keychain. She still couldn't find anything cute about it. Her thumb brushed the tilted torch.
"I don't want to go to those places," she said, still looking at the keychain. "I want to eat at one of our own restaurants."
Shuichi considered it and nodded.
"That works. The group recently opened a private, members-only restaurant in Minato Ward called Shunkyo." He explained the family property. "The concept is high-end and private. All ingredients, from Wagyu to organic vegetables, are supplied directly by the Hokkaido Biotechnology Center. It doesn't take walk-ins. It's only open to internal S.A. Group executives and specifically invited political and business figures. Security is tight, and the environment is quiet."
Satsuki stopped playing with the keychain.
She turned and met Shuichi's eyes.
"No," she said, tucking the keychain into her handbag. "Let's go to Hokokuya."
Shuichi froze for a moment.
Did their family own a store by that name?
He sat up straighter, frowning as he searched his memory. It took several seconds before he recalled the fast-food chain from the S.A. Group's sprawling low-end retail portfolio, a brand that specialized in cheap beef bowls.
"Hokokuya?" His tone carried confusion. "Isn't that shop aimed at the general public?"
Satsuki looked at her puzzled father.
"Since the war in the Middle East broke out, has there been a general increase in domestic food prices?" she asked.
Shuichi shook his head honestly.
"I'm not sure."
His usual dining venues were private chefs or members-only restaurants under various zaibatsu. A single meal could easily cost hundreds of thousands of yen. Whether a bowl of beef rice sold for four hundred or six hundred yen was a micro-fluctuation that never entered his daily information stream.
Even if basic prices rose a thousandfold, the Saionji family's wealth could support their consumption without them noticing.
Satsuki folded her hands and rested her elbows on the armrest.
"What impact do you think the Middle East war will have on the domestic food service industry?" Instead of lecturing, she asked Shuichi for his view.
Shuichi leaned back and thought briefly, then gave the logical answer. "Crude oil. Once oil prices rise, land logistics costs will inevitably increase."
"It's not just logistics," Satsuki said, shaking her head slightly. "Japan's agricultural fertilizers and feed also rely on overseas supply chains. When crude oil prices fluctuate, ocean freight and agricultural material costs rise significantly. That imported inflation directly crushes the profit margins of brick-and-mortar stores."
Shuichi ran through the operating model of traditional restaurant chains in his mind, his brow gradually furrowing. As head of a zaibatsu, he quickly recognized the fatal weakness of the traditional model in this macro environment.
"Our competitors rely on imported beef and get their vegetables through the domestic Agricultural Cooperative. In between, several layers of wholesalers add markups, and then trucks deliver the goods to stores one trip at a time," Satsuki said, looking out at the street. "Too many links in that supply chain. The more links, the lower their risk tolerance. As soon as international oil prices rise, every node adds extra cost. To survive, they have to revise their menus and raise prices."
Hearing this, realization dawned in Shuichi's eyes as he looked at his daughter.
"So the reason you insist on going to Hokokuya today is to personally verify the system we set up in Chiba and Hokkaido?"
"S-Farm's industrialized ranching can already meet our group's internal food needs," Satsuki said, tapping the back of her hand twice. Her tone was composed. "We bypass the Agricultural Cooperative and use our own ro-ro ships to deliver ingredients directly to the Chiba central kitchen. As long as this closed supply chain can absorb the pressure of rising external oil prices and keep the beef bowls at their original price…"
She crossed her arms, pride showing on her face for the supply chain she had built.
"We can pull a huge number of customers away from our competitors in one move. Even if they lower prices after the war ends, they won't win most of those customers back."
She chuckled. "By then, it'll be another abundant source of cash flow."
Seeing his daughter's proud, arms-crossed expression, understanding settled in Shuichi's eyes.
This was a stress test for the Saionji family's low-end business map.
"I see," he said, then asked casually, "So, has Hokokuya withstood this shock? Has it been forced to raise prices?"
Satsuki shook her head slightly.
"I don't know."
Shuichi immediately reached for the car phone on the center armrest.
"Then I'll have Endo contact the retail division and get a report on the latest fast-food pricing."
A hand reached over and pressed lightly on the back of his hand.
Satsuki stopped him from dialing.
"No need to look at reports that have been processed and summarized through multiple layers," she said, withdrawing her hand. Her tone was full of confidence in her family's food supply chain. "Paper data can be disguised. I want to confirm it myself at a frontline store."
"Driver, make a U-turn at the intersection ahead."
The car turned at the wide intersection and headed for the nearest Hokokuya.
…
"Are you sure this instruction came from head office?"
Inside Hokokuya, the air was thick with the scent of beef and onion broth, mixed with the salty aroma of heated soy sauce.
Satsuki sat on a high stool at the U-shaped bar, arms crossed. She looked at the young clerk behind the counter, her brow slightly furrowed.
The clerk had just finished explaining the set meal price change to two seated customers. He didn't recognize the father and daughter, assuming they were ordinary diners questioning the increase.
Facing her confirmation, the clerk bowed slightly and gave the standard explanation, his tone carrying practiced apology.
"Yes, ma'am. Due to recent turmoil, prices have risen sharply. The shop has temporarily adjusted item prices. We sincerely apologize."
Satsuki's gaze moved past his shoulder to the hard resin menu board on the wall behind the bar.
Under the "Standard Beef Bowl Set" panel, a new price insert was clipped into the slide rail.
The insert fit perfectly. Its specifications clearly matched the standard materials issued by head office. This wasn't a temporary change made by an individual store.
The new black numbers were printed clearly: .
It had gone up by fifty yen.
Satsuki kept her arms crossed, her index finger tapping lightly against her elbow.
This shouldn't be happening. Why did the price go up? There was clearly enough profit margin to handle inflation.
The F1 hybrid cattle breeding at Hokkaido's S-Farm had already reached planned scale, and the feed conversion rate stayed within the target range. The cost of raising live cattle hadn't changed at all.
On the logistics side, they used their own ro-ro shipping routes. The economies of scale in maritime transport were enough to offset minor fuel fluctuations. The Chiba central kitchen's automated production lines ran twenty-four hours a day, and labor and processing losses remained extremely low.
Even if external crude oil prices skyrocketed, this closed-loop supply chain, built at great expense, should have been fully capable of absorbing the inflation, according to objective financial logic.
That fifty-yen increase had no basis in cost accounting.
She had expected to see her enterprise demonstrate absolute dominance during inflation, crushing competitors by holding prices steady. Yet the moment she began her inspection, she had been slapped in the face.
That brand-new price insert felt like it was mocking the confidence she had shown in the car.
Satsuki stopped tapping her finger.
Following the principle of seeking truth from facts and refusing to wrongly accuse her own people, she forced down the anger that was about to erupt.
But her expression still darkened instantly. The air around her seemed to drop several degrees.
Satsuki stood without a word.
Her face cold, she turned and walked straight out of the shop.
"You'd better give me a reasonable explanation…"
The faint murmur disappeared as the sliding door opened.
Shuichi, sitting beside her, immediately stood to follow.
Before leaving, he glanced at the glaring price tag on the wall and shook his head helplessly.
"Someone is going to suffer for this…"