June 25th, Yokosuka.
Susumu Ishii always felt very nervous.
Moreover, this feeling had lasted for several days.
Ever since he woke up in the morning, his right hand had never truly settled down.
When sitting, his two fingers would subconsciously rub against each other; after picking up a cigarette, he could not help but use his thumb to scratch the paper on the cigarette filter.
By the time he finally realized this action, his fingertips had been rubbed slightly warm.
Susumu Ishii frowned and put the cigarette back into his mouth.
He struck the match twice before it lit.
He took the first drag a bit too hastily, and the smoke choked his throat, causing him to turn his head and cough a few times.
"Damn it."
He cursed in a low voice, tossed the matchbox casually onto the coffee table, and looked out the window.
The weather in Yokosuka was very good.
Outside the window, one could even see the distant sea.
The mansion was built in a relatively high-elevation location.
Outside the courtyard wall was a cluster of residences built along the slope, and further away, ships were moving slowly across the harbor.
In the past, Susumu Ishii loved sitting here.
The place was quiet.
It was not too far from Tokyo, yet far enough from those financial companies and reporters.
More importantly, this was Yokosuka.
It was his territory.
For decades, as long as he returned here, many things would always become easy to handle again.
But these past few days were different.
Susumu Ishii stuffed the cigarette back into his mouth and leaned back into the sofa.
The ash had accumulated quite a length, but he had not noticed.
To this day, he still could not figure out why things had turned out this way.
Nomura got into trouble.
Nikko got into trouble.
The cover-up of losses was dug up.
His shares in Tokyu Corporation and past financing were dragged into the newspapers together once again.
These were all troublesome matters.
But trouble was trouble; Susumu Ishii had never felt that he would suddenly be driven to a dead end because of these things.
Were those practices between securities firms and major clients invented by him, Susumu Ishii?
Nomura was willing to lend money, and Nikko was willing to lend money.
Then he took the money to buy stocks.
After the stocks rose, he used the stocks as collateral.
When the bubble was at its hottest, how many people in Tokyo did the exact same thing?
If the only problem was that his background was not clean enough, that was even more ridiculous.
Did those people sitting in offices signing documents really not know who he was?
Thinking of this, the corners of Susumu Ishii's mouth twitched.
He was not naive to that extent.
Everyone had been willing to do business before.
Now that the newspapers had started writing about it, they all suddenly discovered that the former chairman of Inagawa-kai was a violent syndicate member.
He had seen plenty of such things.
Therefore, what truly kept him awake at night was something else.
Someone was targeting him.
And at first, he did not even know who it was.
The first thing that went wrong was the money.
People whom he could previously invite out with a single phone call now required going through their secretaries first.
Financing that had already reached the final negotiation stage suddenly required re-evaluation.
Several credit lines that traditionally could have been directly renewed, at the very last moment, had the person in charge starting saying things like "The current situation is rather special."
Securities companies were even more direct.
In the past, the people in the sales department could not wait to ask him every day what else he planned to buy, but now they acted as if they had suddenly discovered with surprise: Oh! So their company actually had a compliance department!
However, if it were only these, it could still be explained.
After all, the news was already out, and keeping away from him out of a desire to avoid suspicion was normal.
But before long, Susumu Ishii discovered that it was not just the financial sector dodging him.
A business executive he had known for many years had invited him to dinner at the end of the month just a few days ago, but when his secretary called yesterday, the other party had suddenly gone to Osaka.
Another old friend with considerable weight in Nagatacho played an even more ruthless trick.
The secretary first said that the gentleman was in a meeting.
When called again two hours later, she said he had gone to the Parliament.
Calling again in the evening, family members said he was not feeling well and had already rested.
Having lived for so many years, Susumu Ishii naturally knew what "not here" meant.
Once meant he was not there.
Three times meant he did not want to see him.
What annoyed him even more was that even his subordinates were starting to become cautious.
In the past when encountering such matters, finding someone to pass a word along meant things could always be slowly negotiated.
If an agreement truly could not be reached, there were always other ways.
But these past two days, whenever someone mentioned whether to go to the bank to find the person in charge for a "nice talk," several of the most enthusiastic people would instead urge him to wait.
Even the message sent back from Inagawa-kai was not to act rashly for now.
This was a sensitive period.
Newspapers were watching.
The police were watching.
The Anti-Organized Crime Law had just been promulgated.
If anyone blew things out of proportion at this time, the one suffering bad luck in the end would not be just Susumu Ishii alone.
He naturally understood the reasoning.
But when everyone suddenly started understanding the reasoning all at once, it felt extremely uncomfortable.
Susumu Ishii's hand holding the cigarette began to tremble slightly again.
He stared at that tiny speck of crimson fire for a few seconds and forcefully pressed the cigarette into the ashtray.
It was not until the night before yesterday that he finally learned what had happened.
The person who told him was an old friend he had known for many years.
Their friendship ran deep enough that they had drunk together in their youth and helped each other out a lot in business later on.
The other party had connections in both the financial and political circles, and sometimes, even before Susumu Ishii opened his mouth, he would pass messages to him in advance.
After the phone call went through that day, that person's voice was kept very low.
Judging by the background noise, he was already at the airport.
At first, Susumu Ishii thought he was just preparing for a business trip.
"Susumu Ishii."
The other party only said one sentence.
"You have been targeted by Saionji."
Susumu Ishii was stunned for a long time.
"What?"
"Saionji."
The other side of the phone paused for a moment.
"Do not look for me for the next few months."
"Wait, explain it clearly to me first, what exactly—"
The phone had already hung up.
When called again later, it was turned off.
No one was home.
Over at the company, they only said the president had gone abroad temporarily.
Susumu Ishii had someone look into it, and the final news he got was that the other party had left Japan from Narita that very night.
Where he went, unknown.
When he would return, also unknown.
A friend who had interacted with him for over a decade left behind only those words and simply vanished.
In other words, the price of uttering those words was so high that he had to go abroad just to avoid the fallout.
Susumu Ishii originally thought that after finding out who was moving behind the scenes, he could at least heave a sigh of relief.
The result was quite the opposite.
Ever since he heard the three words "Saionji," he had never slept well again.
If it were a certain bank, he could look for other banks.
If it were Nomura, he could look for Nikko.
If it were a politician, he could always find the person's enemies.
Even if it were some gang organization that had a grudge against Inagawa-kai, things would actually be simpler.
He could openly lead people to cause trouble until the other party stopped.
But what was Saionji?
Susumu Ishii pulled another cigarette out of the cigarette case, held it between his fingers, but delayed lighting it.
He could not even think of when he had ever offended Saionji.
This was the most terrifying part.
None.
Truly none.
Over the past few years, he did finance, real estate, and bought Tokyu shares.
Saionji did his own business.
The two sides had never even had a decent direct conflict.
And he had never been foolish enough to touch Saionji's properties.
Those companies, land, banking connections, and The Club—Susumu Ishii had always stayed far away from them.
Why?
Why?!
Why did it have to be him?
Susumu Ishii's fingers began rubbing together again.
Could it be Tokyu?
Or Nomura?
When had he ever touched Saionji's interests?
He thought about it over and over again.
He could not think of anything.
The more he could not think of anything, the more irritated he became.
If he had truly done something wrong, he could at least admit his mistake.
Apologizing, kneeling, or even cutting off his fingers—he could do all of that.
But right now, he did not even know why Saionji had targeted him.
Susumu Ishii suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.
He tugged at his shirt collar, unbuttoned another button, and picked up the whiskey on the table.
The wine was already somewhat warm.
He still took a large gulp.
The spicy liquid went down his throat, but the stifling oppression in his chest had not dissipated at all.
Saionji had not even truly made a move yet.
As soon as this thought appeared, Susumu Ishii's expression turned a bit uglier.
Up until now, he had not received any formal warning from Saionji.
No one came to look for him, and no one told him to repay his debts.
Saionji had not even looked at him straight.
It was just that the other side seemed to have shown a certain attitude toward the securities incident.
And then?
Banks began re-auditing accounts.
Companies began dodging.
People in political circles would not answer phone calls.
Even his own people in the underworld started advising him to behave himself for the next couple of days.
An attitude.
Merely an attitude.
Was already making it almost impossible for him to breathe.
Then what if one day, Saionji truly decided to deal with him?
Susumu Ishii's hand holding the wine glass stopped there, unwilling to continue thinking further down.