Fuji Bank Headquarters, Conference Room.
An air humidifier in the corner puffed out a fine white mist, yet it failed to alleviate the oppressive atmosphere in the room. A dozen board members in suits and leather shoes sat upright on both sides of the long table, their gazes fixed squarely on Vice President Kagawa's face.
"Kagawa."
The president's expression was grim as he pointed at the headline of the Yomiuri Shimbun in front of Kagawa.
"What kind of madness possessed you at the banquet last night? A joint donation of 7.5 billion yen! Who gave you the authority to unilaterally agree to such a ridiculous proposal from the Seibu Group in front of the Prime Minister and the flashes of every major Japanese media outlet?"
Kagawa sat in a seat near the door, his face slightly pale, hands placed flat on his knees.
The Senior Managing Director sitting diagonally across from him immediately followed up, speaking at a rapid pace.
"Special inspectors dispatched by the Ministry of Finance were already in the first-floor audit office by 8:00 AM today. They specifically requested to review the approval procedures for this 7.5 billion yen cash outflow!"
The Senior Managing Director tapped his finger forcefully on the table.
"The headquarters' books have long been stretched thin by those bad debts. Just to show off, you insist on extracting 7.5 billion in hard cash from the vault!
Once this outflow causes our core capital adequacy ratio to drop below the Basel Accord's red line, the Ministry of Finance could use that as grounds to revoke our overseas business license tomorrow!"
The Senior Managing Director stared intently at Kagawa.
"Vice President Kagawa, if this money goes through the headquarters' accounts and brings regulatory disaster upon the bank, you will personally bear full responsibility for breach of trust."
Accusations flooded in from all directions, weaving into a tight, inescapable net. Everyone was eager to pin this black mark, one that could lead to imprisonment, firmly onto Kagawa's head.
Kagawa quietly listened to the siege around him.
He glanced at the newspaper on the table, then raised his hand and unbuttoned the middle button of his suit jacket.
"President, Directors."
Kagawa's voice was steady, showing no trace of panic.
"At last night's event, the Prime Minister himself stood on the main stage to oversee the proceedings, and the lenses of over a hundred Japanese media outlets were all pointed at the front row." Kagawa's gaze swept over the Senior Managing Director who had just attacked him.
"Chairman Tsutsumi of Seibu publicly announced the establishment of a Joint Revival Fund with us. May I ask, Director, if I had equivocated on the spot and refused his proposal on the grounds of needing to consult the board under those spotlights, what would the consequences have been?"
The Senior Managing Director frowned, silenced by the counter-question.
"The consequence would be that Fuji Bank would have been immediately labeled politically as openly resisting the national rescue plan.
The special inspectors from the Ministry of Finance wouldn't just be sitting on the first floor auditing books this morning. They would have come directly with administrative orders from the Cabinet to suspend our credit approval rights."
Kagawa looked at the silent executives, his tone growing heavier.
"You all keep saying you're afraid of dropping below the capital red line. But if we had saved this money and the bank's credit went bankrupt in front of the Prime Minister and the citizens, drawing the hostility of the entire Ministry of Finance, who among you sitting here will bear that political cost? Director, are you willing to sign the apology statement at tomorrow's briefing?"
An awkward, dead silence fell over the conference room. The directors who had been so fierce a moment ago now avoided Kagawa's gaze.
Kagawa looked at this group of colleagues who were shirking responsibility, reached into the inner pocket of his suit, and pinched a thin slip of paper.
He pulled it out, passed it over the newspaper, and pushed it to the center of the conference table.
"Furthermore, I made preparations to handle this long ago."
He pointed at the slip in the center of the table and looked the president straight in the eye.
"This is a payment instrument I urgently secured by contacting overseas trust clients overnight after the banquet ended."
"Face value: 7.5 billion yen. A Citibank bearer cash warrant."
"This joint donation did not use a single yen of liquidity from the headquarters' vault. If the Ministry of Finance inspectors ask, this money can be recorded entirely as overseas humanitarian aid. It has no connection whatsoever with our domestic real estate credit quotas."
The denunciations in the conference room came to an abrupt halt.
The anger on the Senior Managing Director's face froze, his gaze falling uncontrollably on the warrant bearing the Citibank logo.
The president sat up straight and glanced at the financial officer behind him.
The financial officer stepped forward quickly, put on white gloves, and picked up the warrant. He took a small ultraviolet counterfeit detector pen from his briefcase and pressed the switch.
A pale purple beam of light swept across the surface of the warrant. Hidden anti-counterfeiting watermarks and special fluorescent fibers appeared clearly under the light.
The financial officer repeatedly checked the issuing institution's seal and the magnetic ink numbering. Then he turned off the detector pen and nodded deeply to the president.
"Confirmed valid. It can be deposited into the Metropolitan Clearing System for redemption at any time."
The tense atmosphere in the conference room visibly loosened the moment the financial officer nodded.
The directors who had been so fierce just now exchanged several subtle glances.
As long as the bank's capital pool was not damaged and they didn't have to take the blame themselves, the nature of this matter changed completely.
The president placed a fist to his lips and coughed lightly. He retracted his previous severity, and the lines of his facial muscles softened.
"Since the funds did not come from the headquarters' accounts," the president pushed the warrant to the financial officer, signaling him to record it,
"the board can accept Vice President Kagawa's explanation regarding crisis public relations. After all, under such extreme political pressure, stabilizing the bank's reputation is indeed the primary task."
The president looked at Kagawa, his tone carrying a hint of conciliation.
"Kagawa-kun, you've worked hard. This overseas capital inflow can be used to deal with the inquiries from the Ministry of Finance inspectors downstairs."
Sitting in his original place and listening to the president's statement, Kagawa suddenly felt that betraying them wasn't unacceptable after all.
But he knew it wasn't time to relax yet.
"President."
Kagawa stood up and bowed deeply to the directors on both sides of the long table.
"President, Directors. Regarding my actions last night, although I used overseas funds to preserve the bank's reputation, it did make the headquarters too conspicuous in front of the media and drew the Ministry of Finance's special inspectors ahead of schedule. I am truly sorry for the trouble I have caused you all."
Kagawa straightened up, placed both hands on the table, and presented his real bargaining chip.
"To make up for my mistake, I propose that I personally handle the Ministry of Finance inspectors downstairs."
Several directors frowned slightly.
"Public opinion is currently watching the infrastructure holes of the major zaibatsu closely. As the core hub of the Fuyo Group, Fuji Bank's books cover the massive capital positions of five key infrastructure enterprises under the group." Kagawa's gaze swept over his colleagues.
"Since the inspectors have already moved in, they will inevitably follow the trail and demand to review the underlying credit of these enterprises."
Kagawa looked at the president.
"If we allow the inspectors to review the original archives without any hindrance, the headquarters won't have any room to maneuver. We need to create a layer of internal compliance isolation before the regulators intervene directly."
"As the price for making up for my mistake last night, I request to lead the establishment of a temporary Internal Risk Investigation Team." Kagawa emphasized his tone.
"I need the highest level of archive access to pull out all the credit source documents of these five affiliated enterprises for reorganization, and create a set of accounts that can withstand the Ministry of Finance's scrutiny."
Several directors in the conference room looked at each other, their tense shoulders visibly relaxing.
At this juncture, dealing with the Ministry of Finance auditors and forging compliance documents was a minefield that could trigger criminal charges at any time. Whoever took it on might be pushed out as a scapegoat in the future.
Now that Kagawa was taking on this mess under the guise of making up for his mistake, it could be considered loyal and dutiful. Since someone was willing to step forward and clear the mines, they were naturally happy to see it happen.
The president looked at Kagawa and nodded. He pulled over the authorization signature book on the table.
"Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures. Kagawa-kun, the board has seen your sincerity. This matter is left to your full responsibility." The president quickly signed his name on the authorization form and pressed his personal red seal.
"Effective immediately, the highest access to the internal archives is fully open to you. Be sure to lead the investigation team to make the books clean."
The financial officer handed the authorization form to Kagawa.
Kagawa took the authorization form with both hands and bowed deeply again.
"Thank you for your trust."
...
Mitsubishi Heavy Industries, Chairman's Office.
Behind the dark mahogany desk, the Mitsubishi Group's supreme advisor, Iwasaki Hiroya, sat in a large leather chair. His hands were folded, resting on a red sandalwood cane with a sterling silver handle.
Standing in front of the desk was the General Manager of Mitsubishi Heavy Industries.
"Chairman."
The General Manager glanced at the fax marked with an 'X' and reported in a low voice,
"The Saionji Family sent an official letter five minutes ago. According to the agreement, they will dispatch an advance working group consisting of five senior financial supervisors. The fax specifies that these five supervisors will arrive at our Marunouchi headquarters tomorrow morning at 9:00 AM.
They request to interface on-site with the finance and personnel departments, review relevant ledgers, and establish a joint capital supervision account for those five thousand newly recruited workers."
Iwasaki Hiroya's expression remained calm as he stared at the fax for two seconds.
The Saionji Family's conduct this time was far too unseemly.
Using the righteousness of openness and transparency established by the Prime Minister's presence, they were directly inserting auditors into the heart of Mitsubishi.
But Mitsubishi's ability to endure for centuries had never relied on winning verbal battles on the surface.
"Since they want to interface on-site..." Iwasaki Hiroya's voice was low, and the silver base of his cane tapped lightly on the carpet.
"Notify the General Affairs Department. Immediately activate the old, abandoned shipyard archives in Kawasaki City. Have people rush there tonight to clean out an office and hang a brass plaque at the door that says 'Joint Special Resettlement Office.'"
The General Manager was stunned for a moment, then immediately understood Iwasaki's intention.
"Chairman, you mean..."
"On the grounds of confidentiality for core military and heavy machinery technology," Iwasaki Hiroya looked at the General Manager.
"Take the Saionji Family's advance working group directly to Kawasaki City by private car. Tell them that the Marunouchi headquarters involves national secrets and external personnel are strictly forbidden from entering. All resettlement work concerning the workers will be conducted entirely at the joint office in Kawasaki."
The General Manager quickly recorded this instruction in his portable notebook.
"But Chairman," the General Manager stopped his pen,
"if they reach Kawasaki and demand that we provide financial records and personnel lists for auditing, how should we respond? If we refuse to provide the data, they will surely tell the media and the Cabinet that we are resisting supervision."
An imperceptible cold smile curled at the corner of Iwasaki Hiroya's mouth.
"Provide it. Why wouldn't we provide it?"
Iwasaki released his cane and leaned back in his leather chair.
"If they want to see the ledgers, give them the most original, most detailed ledgers."
"Go immediately and mobilize ten heavy trucks." Iwasaki issued further instructions.
"Go to the logistics warehouses and take all the paper personnel files for all resigned, retired, and short-term dispatched workers from Mitsubishi Corporation and Mitsubishi Heavy Industries over the past ten years. Add to that all the logistics procurement invoices and cafeteria expense receipts that comply with tax regulations from these ten years."
"Pack it all into boxes and transport them overnight to that archive in Kawasaki City."
The General Manager sucked in a breath of cold air. That would be hundreds of thousands of yellowed pages.
"Stack those moldy paper documents around their desks right up to the ceiling." Iwasaki Hiroya looked at the gloomy sky outside the window.
"Have someone pull out all the telephone lines in that archive. Cut all electronic data interfaces that could possibly connect to the Marunouchi headquarters. Don't even leave them a single extra fax machine."
"Tell them that the Mitsubishi Group is highly cooperative with the Saionji Family's audit. For the sake of information accuracy, we have provided the most original paper vouchers.
Please let these five senior supervisors use their hands and eyes to slowly verify the whereabouts of those five thousand people from that pile of ten years' worth of waste paper."
The General Manager closed his notebook and bowed deeply.
"I will see to it immediately."
Iwasaki picked up the teacup on the table and looked at the high-rise buildings outside the window.
So, how will you make your next move, Saionji Satsuki?