It was happening again.
Looking at Satsuki's nonchalant expression, the anger in Tsutsumi Yoshiaki's chest flared up once more.
Of course, he could just storm off.
He was Tsutsumi Yoshiaki, after all.
The master of Seibu, Japan's land emperor, and one of the most dazzling names on the global wealth list.
In the past, he had seen countless people bow their heads, and had deprived countless others of even the chance to do so.
According to his usual temper, today's words would have been enough for him to never step foot inside the Saionji family's home again.
But he could not leave.
He could be angry at Saionji.
But right now, there were truly very few wealthy people left in all of Japan.
The only one who could save Seibu was Saionji, Seibu's greatest enemy.
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
Endure.
Endure.
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki, are you really going to get angry at an underage little girl?
Endure.
After a long while, he squeezed out two words from between his teeth.
"The railway."
The flower shears in Satsuki's hand stopped.
The pause was brief, but Tsutsumi Yoshiaki saw it.
He had finally found something that could make her stop.
"The Ikebukuro Line, the Shinjuku Line."
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki's voice was cold and stiff, as if he were slicing off his own flesh.
"The commercial operating rights inside key stations, for fifteen years."
Satsuki slowly turned around.
She did not answer immediately, but simply set the flower shears aside, rested one hand on the low table, and propped her face up with the other, looking at Tsutsumi Yoshiaki with great interest.
That smile was highly obnoxious.
As if to say, this is just the appetizer.
A vein throbbed on Tsutsumi Yoshiaki's temple.
What were the Ikebukuro Line and Shinjuku Line?
They were the most valuable arteries of the Seibu Railway.
Countless people poured in and out of the stations every morning and evening.
Although the profits of those small in-station shops, bento counters, and advertising spaces did not seem high and each looked unremarkable, as long as they were placed at the intersection of traffic and passenger flows, they could scrape a thin layer of gold dust from countless wallets every day.
Moreover, they were channels that could stably generate profits regardless of the economic cycle.
And for a whole fifteen years.
Fifteen years was enough for a brand to take root in the stations, enough for the aroma of Hokkokuya's beef bowls to drift into the noses of commuters, enough for small UNIQLO stores to be squeezed into the path of every office worker heading home, and enough for S.A. Entertainment's advertisements to cover the station walls.
And yet, this little girl still put on an expression that said, "This is just the appetizer, you know."
Satsuki's eyes curved into crescents again.
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki's stomach began to ache faintly.
Endure.
Endure.
He repeated it in his mind once more.
"Prince Hotel."
He squeezed out another phrase.
Satsuki's smile grew even sweeter.
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki forced himself to continue, "For the next ten years, all food ingredient supplies will have S-Farm placed on our designated procurement list."
Satsuki blinked.
"Designated procurement list?"
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki grit his teeth.
"It will apply to the Prince Hotel in Tokyo, as well as the one in Hokkaido. Banquet halls, breakfast rooms, room service, gift box procurement—Seibu retains the right to quality inspection, but S-Farm will enjoy priority supply rights."
This was yet another stable source of cash flow.
Beef, strawberries, dairy products, vegetables, rice, gift boxes—as long as they were labeled as Prince Hotel procurement, everything would transform from farm produce into a steady cash flow.
More importantly, this would turn S-Farm from "Saionji's personal farm" into "a farm supplying Japan's top-tier hotel system."
Once the brand entered the kitchens of the Prince Hotel, they could rightfully raise their prices.
Satsuki clapped her hands gently.
"Does Chairman Tsutsumi love the produce from our farm so much?"
"Saionji Satsu—"
"Alright, alright."
Satsuki smilingly extended a finger and gently pressed it against Tsutsumi Yoshiaki's lips.
The movement was light and playful, like a little girl stopping an elder from saying something inauspicious.
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki froze completely.
He had never had his mouth shut like this by anyone in his entire life.
Especially when the one shutting him up was the little demon currently carving flesh off his body.
"Since Chairman Tsutsumi loves it so much, why do I not take you to our specialty restaurant later?"
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki let out a grunt, thinking that she would finally stop now.
Satsuki seemed completely unaware of what she had done, and suddenly turned around as if she had just remembered something particularly important.
"—Though, our restaurant's schedule is very full. I wonder if there are any tables left."
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki's face, which had just relaxed, tensed up again, and his temple throbbed several more times.
If you want to eat there, how could there not be a table?
Even if everyone else's reservations are canceled, there would still be a table for you.
He suddenly marveled at his own capacity for endurance.
If he could walk out of the Saionji family's greenhouse alive today, he felt he would probably never get angry at the idiots on the board of directors ever again.
Compared to the little girl in front of him, those fools at least would not carve off his flesh while asking if he wanted to stay for dinner—a meal made from his own meat.
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki closed his eyes for a moment.
I miss you, board idiots. You really are too adorable.
"The Seibu Lions."
Satsuki's turning motion stopped.
Startled by this, Tsutsumi Yoshiaki quickly added.
"I cannot give you the team! Do not even think about it!"
Satsuki looked completely innocent.
"I have not said anything yet."
"Your eyes already did."
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki said coldly.
Satsuki smiled even more happily.
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki took a deep breath and threw out his final offer.
"The commercial operations around Seibu Stadium—all yours. Food stalls, merchandise counters, outfield advertising, VIP box hospitality, post-game shuttle services—five years of operating rights."
"To be absolutely clear, the team itself, the Seibu Lions name, and broadcasting rights are not included."
As if afraid she would continue to raise the price, he added, "This is the last of it. If we sell any more, Seibu will become an empty shell."
Hearing this, Satsuki immediately put on a hurt expression, even pretending to wipe away non-existent tears from the corner of her eyes.
"Uncle Tsutsumi, saying things like that makes me look like some kind of insatiably greedy person."
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki was already immune to this demon's acting.
He caught the key point—the change in how she addressed him.
Chairman Tsutsumi had become Uncle Tsutsumi.
This damned, insatiably greedy, shameless, utterly unprincipled little demon had finally accepted the terms.
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki snorted coldly and stood up.
"That restaurant of yours had better be worth the price I am paying."
He turned and walked out.
Sure enough, Satsuki immediately followed, her steps so light and cheerful that it made Tsutsumi Yoshiaki want to turn around and glare at her even more.
"Uncle Tsutsumi, I am afraid that request is a bit difficult."
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki stopped in his tracks and turned to look at her.
Satsuki said with a smile, "Unless we are flying to the far side of the moon to eat, we will not be able to find a dinner as expensive as your offer."
"Slick-tongued little girl."
"Is it not called being eloquent?"
"Whatever you say."
The two of them walked down the long corridor, one after the other.
The courtyard outside the corridor was dusted with light snow, and the pine branches next to the stone lanterns swayed slightly in the wind.
Fujita followed not far behind.
When Shimada saw Tsutsumi Yoshiaki emerge, he immediately took half a step forward, only to be stopped by a glance from Tsutsumi Yoshiaki.
Satsuki walked leisurely beside him, as if the negotiation just now had been nothing more than pre-afternoon tea chitchat.
"Uncle Tsutsumi."
She suddenly spoke.
"We have a lot in common, do we not?"
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki did not stop walking.
"Yes, a lot in common."
There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
"We both love land, we both love money, and we both love making others feel like they have no way out."
"Also, neither of us is a good person."
Satsuki smiled.
"I will not admit to that last one."
"It does not matter if you do not admit it."
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki said coldly.
Satsuki was not angry either.
"Then, do you not think we actually have a very strong foundation for an alliance?"
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki stopped walking.
He turned his head and looked at this little girl who had just carved a huge chunk of flesh off him.
"I just gave up so much to you, and now you are talking to me about an alliance?"
"Precisely because you gave things up, we have a foundation for an alliance."
"Otherwise, with a colossus like Seibu, what right would Saionji have to cooperate with you?"
Satsuki spoke with complete confidence.
"Is that not how business works? After a fight, knowing how much the other hurts and where their blade strikes, sitting down to eat together ensures we will not mistake each other for philanthropists."
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki looked at her for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed.
He had to admit that though the words were crude, they were very true.
In the Japanese business world of this era, they talked of loyalty and righteousness on the surface, but behind the scenes, it was all about the price.
The people who could truly cooperate were often not those who had never fallen out, but those who, after falling out, still knew where the other's bottom line lay.
"There is indeed a foundation."
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki said slowly.
"But, are you still staying so close to the Hakusuikai?"
Satsuki asked, seemingly in passing.
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki's laughter stopped.
He turned back to look at her.
Satsuki still wore that same smile, but this time, it seemed a bit more genuine than before.
She stood under the corridor lights, with a few flakes of snow blown in from the courtyard caught in her hair, her eyes smiling.
She tilted her head, seemingly waiting for his answer in earnest.
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki looked at her and suddenly burst into laughter.
The laughter was so loud that it startled the birds in the courtyard, sending them flying out from the shadows of the trees.
It was as if he wanted to laugh away all the anger, humiliation, and absurdity he had bottled up in the greenhouse today.
Shimada stood behind him, his expression somewhat stiff.
Fujita still showed no expression.
Satsuki quietly waited for him to finish laughing.
After a long while, Tsutsumi Yoshiaki stopped laughing, his gaze turning sharp once more.
"Very well."
He said.
"For our alliance, let us start by dragging down the Hakusuikai."
Satsuki's smile finally bloomed completely.
Tsutsumi Yoshiaki looked at the deep night sky outside the courtyard, his voice carrying a ruthlessness that had not appeared in a long time.
"These remnants of the old era have sat at the top for far too long."
"I watched him build a red mansion, I watched him host guests, I watched his building..."
The building did not collapse; it is just that the owner is about to change.