The first report was finished. Endō tucked the list into the pocket on the left side of the folder.
"The second item."
He pulled another report from the right side of the folder. The paper was stamped with the identification number of the SIS Analysis Department, and the upper right corner bore a red "Confidential" stamp.
"SIS has completed the preliminary screening of the first batch of Tobashi Account data sent over by Kagawa."
Endō turned to the second page.
"Two abnormal signals were discovered."
Satsuki pulled a blank sheet of A4 paper from her drawer, pencil in hand.
"The first one. Fuyō General Development Co., Ltd., a subsidiary of the Fuyō Group, holds a large-scale residential complex development project in the Makuhari area of Chiba Prefecture. The outstanding loan balance is 35 billion yen. The project's actual sales rate —"
Endō's voice paused for less than a second.
"14.7 percent. Work has been suspended for three months."
Satsuki's pencil drew a square on the paper. Inside the box, she wrote: Fuyō General Development. Beside the box, she wrote down two numbers — 350, 14.7%.
A 35 billion yen loan, less than 15 percent sold, and work suspended for three months.
This meant the actual scale of bad debt was around 30 billion — yet this loan was currently still listed under Fuji Bank's normal loan category.
On the books, everything looked peaceful.
"The second one." Endō turned to the next page.
"Within Fuji Bank's own off-balance-sheet SPV structure, there is a loan issued by a special purpose entity registered in the Cayman Islands. The amount is 24 billion yen. The counterparty is a limited company registered in Hong Kong."
He flipped the page over and pointed to a line of small print at the very bottom.
"Company name: 'Pacific Crown Holdings Limited'. Registered address: Room 1207, a certain office building on Pedder Street, Central, Hong Kong. Registration date: November 1988."
Satsuki's pencil moved rapidly across the paper.
The second box: Fuji Bank. An arrow pointed to the right, toward the third box: Cayman SPV.
Another arrow pointed to the fourth box: Pacific Crown Holdings (HK).
Then she drew a question mark next to the fourth box.
24 billion yen, flowing out of the bank, passing through a Cayman shell, and falling into a paper company in Hong Kong.
Where did the money go?
Satsuki turned the sketch toward Endō. The tip of her pencil tapped on the Pacific Crown box.
"This company — have someone investigate it. The registered agent, company secretary, list of directors, bank account opening branch, and records of capital inflows and outflows. Everything."
Endō nodded. He copied the company name and registration information word for word into his notebook.
Satsuki's pencil did not stop. On the right side of the sketch, she drew another dashed line — starting from Pacific Crown, folding back to the left, and landing in the "Domestic Japan" zone.
At the end of the dashed line, she drew a hollow circle. There was no writing inside the circle.
"I suspect this money eventually flowed back." Her voice was very low. The tip of her pencil circled halfway around that hollow circle.
"After being laundered through Hong Kong, it took over someone's private investment losses."
Endō lifted his gaze from his notebook and landed it on that dashed line.
"If we can find the path of the return flow —"
Satsuki did not finish her sentence.
If they could prove that this 24 billion was Fuji Bank executives using off-balance-sheet SPVs to channel benefits to private connections — the nature of this chain of evidence would no longer be merely "concealment of non-performing assets."
This behavior already constituted a breach of trust, a crime of special breach of trust.
It was a nuclear-level scandal that could force the entire Fuji Bank board of directors to resign collectively.
Endō closed his notebook.
"The pace of the short selling on Frank's end —"
"No rush."
Satsuki folded the sketch in half and stuffed it into the red folder.
"Tell Frank. Accumulate data first; we'll talk about building positions next year."
She held up three fingers.
"First, the current volume of data is insufficient. Kagawa has only just started delivering; the monthly transaction records of the Tobashi Accounts need to be accumulated for at least six months to establish a reliable bad debt growth curve. Without a curve, the short-selling model is just guesswork."
One finger went down.
"Second, Fuji Bank's stock price hasn't fallen enough. Entering the market to short now would result in an unfavorable cost-benefit ratio. Wait for it to drop another 20 percent."
The second finger went down.
"Third."
Her gaze fell on the envelope in the corner of the desk — the one sent by Kagawa that had been opened yesterday.
"Akasaka Branch."
Endō's shoulders tensed slightly.
"That thing is still growing." Satsuki pulled back her third finger, closed her hand, and rested it on the desktop.
"Five billion is just the starting point. In an unregulated environment, the speed at which the hole expands will exceed everyone's expectations. In half a year, a year from now —"
She did not give a specific number.
"Wait until it grows large enough." She closed the red folder and pressed her palm against the cover.
"By that time, we will hold three things in our hands simultaneously: more than six months of continuous bad debt data from the Tobashi Accounts, the complete capital return path of the Cayman SPV, and the detonator for the bomb at the Akasaka Branch."
"Three keys to open the same lock."
She pushed the folder to the upper right corner of the desk.
"So we are not in a rush."
Her voice was very soft.
"The fish hasn't been fattened up yet."
Endō looked at Satsuki and nodded deeply.
"I understand."
He capped his pen.
"I will make the arrangements for the two matters mentioned above." He stood up and tucked the folder into his briefcase.
"I can produce the first draft of the debt acquisition plan for Yodoba Precision this afternoon. The due diligence team for the Saitama Packaging Plant can be dispatched by tomorrow. Frank — I will notify him before the New York market opens tonight."
"Mm." Satsuki nodded. "Thank you for your hard work."
The door closed softly behind him.
The sound of leather shoes stepping on the cedar floorboards of the hallway grew distant, then faded away.
...
The sunlight from outside the window filtered in from behind the shoji paper, brighter than it had been a moment ago. The shadow of the maple tree in the courtyard was cast onto the paper, clearly revealing the outline of the leaves.
As the wind passed by, the shadow swayed.
Satsuki put down her pencil. She rubbed the web of her right hand with her fingers — having held the pencil for too long, that muscle was a bit sore.
Shuichi had been sitting to the side the entire time.
Throughout the entire report, he had not interrupted once. He had heard what he needed to hear and seen what he needed to see.
He put down the "Nikkei News." The newspaper rested along the crease on the armrest.
There was silence for a few seconds.
"Satsuki."
"Hm?"
"Those 120 people from Yodoba Precision plus the 20 technicians from Saitama — have you calculated the total relocation costs?"
Satsuki folded the list in half and stuffed it into the red folder.
"Roughly a little over 300 million. Relocation, housing, children's school transfers, and back pay. Endō will have a detailed budget by this afternoon."
"300 million." Shuichi repeated, as if weighing the magnitude.
"That sounds like a lot."
"If those three patents from Yodoba are applied upstream of the B-07 petrochemical pipeline, they will recoup their cost four to five times over within three years." Satsuki tapped her finger lightly on the cover of the folder.
"As for the 20 packaging technicians in Saitama — if we were to train a team of the same level from scratch, it would take seven years."
She narrowed her eyes slightly.
"300 million to buy seven years is a good deal."
Shuichi smiled slightly.
"When you put it that way, it is indeed a good deal."
He took a sip of the herbal tea. It had gone bitter.
Two more maple leaves fell outside the window.
"By the way —" Shuichi said, as if remembering something, his tone casual,
"The morning news today said that two construction company presidents in Kobe met with misfortune. One used his car, and the other jumped from the sixth floor of his office. The combined debt of the two companies seems to be over 30 billion."
Satsuki was using her fingertips to gather the scattered pencil shavings on the desk into one pile.
"Things like this will become more and more frequent from now until next spring."
She picked up the pencil shavings and threw them into the wastebasket.
"It will take at least another two to three quarters for Mieno's tightening policy to reach the end of the chain. The peak of the monthly number of bankrupt companies —"
She thought for a moment.
"Between March and June of next year. By then, it could potentially double or triple."
Shuichi placed the empty teacup on the armrest, his finger unconsciously tracing the rim of the cup.
"The more companies that go bankrupt... the more good targets we can acquire?"
Satsuki looked up at Shuichi.
"You are learning very quickly, Father."
The corners of her mouth curled, very slightly.
Shuichi was amused by her tone.
"However, the number of unemployed people will increase simultaneously. The cost of maintaining public order is going to rise again..."
As he said this, he picked up the empty teacup and stood up.
Satsuki watched Shuichi's back and nodded with satisfaction.
She had thought Shuichi might ask questions like, "Ah, what will happen to those laid-off workers? How many families will be ruined? How pitiful..."
But Shuichi was thinking about the problem from the perspective of how unemployed people would cause social security costs to rise.
Shuichi scooped a spoonful of tea leaves from the tin canister wrapped in indigo cotton cloth on the top shelf of the tea cabinet.
Black tea.
Having tried it once yesterday, Shuichi seemed to have taken a liking to this flavor as well.
Hot water was poured into the cup. The tea leaves unfurled in the boiling water, and a layer of bright red gradually surfaced on the deep amber tea base. That aroma, which Bureau Chief Chen called the "orchid base," rose in curls from the rim of the cup.
Shuichi brought the teacup back and placed it by Satsuki's side.
"This tea is indeed quite good. Are there any channels to purchase it domestically?"
Satsuki looked down at the cup of tea. The red tea liquid rippled quietly in the white porcelain cup.
"There shouldn't be; this seems to be a specialty of China."
She took a sip.
As the tea liquid went down her throat, a layer of honey-sweet aftertaste emerged at the root of her tongue. It was the same as the cup she had after dinner last night. Mellow and full-bodied.
"If you like it, we can buy a few tea plantations next time we go to China."
Satsuki placed the teacup back on the desk and traced the rim with her finger.
Shuichi smiled.
"That works too. Besides, you, this girl, love black tea the most."
"Come to think of it, although China is poor, it is indeed a major tea-producing country. We can try more different varieties when we go there later and buy them all at once."
He walked back to his leather chair and sat down. He picked up the "Nikkei News" again and turned to the fifth page.
At the bottom of the newspaper was a narrow line of statistical flash reports —
"In the first week of October, the Kanto region had 1,247 new bankruptcy filings. A year-on-year increase of 34%."
One thousand two hundred and forty-seven companies.
Shuichi's gaze slid over that line of numbers.
He paused for less than a second.
Then he turned to the sixth page.
Outside the window, the maple leaves were still falling. The aroma of the Keemun black tea dispersed in the October sunlight, slowly dyeing the entire study in a layer of invisible warmth.
The world outside the study room was entering winter.