novelones Chapter 236 Attending the Banquet
Chapter 236 Attending the Banquet
Late March 1990. Early morning.
Bunkyo-ku, Tokyo.
The main family of Xiyuan Temple is Tingyuxuan.
On the second morning after the market index fell below the 29,000-point mark, the air was still chilly with the lingering cold of early spring, and a thin layer of morning frost still covered the bluestone slabs in the courtyard.
"when--"
The bamboo deer scarecrow, filled with mountain spring water, lost its balance and crashed heavily onto a moss-covered round stone. The crisp sound echoed through the quiet, ancient mansion.
Satsuki wore an elegant light blue kimono, with a dark silver brocade sash around her waist. She stood quietly at the edge of the wooden corridor, holding a long-spouted pure copper kettle in her hand.
A fine stream of water poured down from the spout, evenly irrigating the roots of a prized black pine plant placed on a flower stand. The water droplets seeped into the dry, granular soil, making a very faint hissing sound.
Fujita, dressed in a sharp black tailcoat, strode briskly down the corridor, emerging from the shadows. He stopped two steps away from Satsuki, bowing slightly. Holding a briefing he had just taken from the encrypted fax machine, he placed it flat on the rosewood coffee table at the edge of the corridor.
"Young Miss. Latest news from Nagata-cho."
Fujita Tsuyoshi's voice was very low, and his speech was steady.
"At a closed-door meeting within the Liberal Democratic Party last night, Representative Ichiro Osawa formally introduced a draft amendment to completely abolish the Large Retail Store Law. Furthermore, he forcefully suppressed all objections from business and industrial representatives within the party and decided to force a vote on it at next week's plenary session of the Diet."
Satsuki slightly raised her wrist, cutting off the flow of water from the copper kettle. She placed the kettle steadily on the bottom shelf of the flower stand and pulled a clean white cotton handkerchief from her sleeve.
"He can't wait."
Satsuki slowly wiped the cool moisture from her fingertips.
"Once the Ministry of Finance issued the 'Total Quantity Regulation,' the liquidity at the grassroots level was completely cut off. Without this support, those real estate tycoons under his name are probably lining up to wait for court seizure orders."
She switched the handkerchief to her left hand and gently brushed away a speck of dust that had settled on the cuff of her kimono.
"Without Jin Yuan, his position in Nagata-cho will be very precarious."
Satsuki turned around, put the folded handkerchief back into her sleeve, and looked at the moss-covered round stone in the courtyard.
"When a person is pushed to the edge of a cliff, they have to find a new backer. He has to hand over this pledge of allegiance as quickly as possible in exchange for political asylum in Washington. This is the only lifeline he can grasp at the moment."
Fujita Tsuyoshi's gaze fell on the briefing on the coffee table.
"The National Federation of Small and Medium Retailers is already organizing large-scale protests. Representative Osawa's forceful push to abolish the bill at this time is undoubtedly jeopardizing the livelihoods of millions of low-income retail workers across Japan."
He glanced at Satsuki's profile.
"Do we need the intelligence system to release evidence of his behind-the-scenes collusion with foreign capital to the media at this time?"
"Wait a little longer, Fujita."
Satsuki's gaze returned to the gnarled and twisted black pine in front of her.
"The fire isn't burning bright enough yet. Osawa Ichiro's blade still has a little remaining value. Wait until he's done all the dirty work of repealing the Large Stores Law and attracting foreign investment, even if it means enduring nationwide condemnation. Wait until the moment the gavel falls in the Diet..."
Satsuki stretched out her right hand and picked up a sharp pair of gardening pruning shears from the edge of the flower stand.
"We'll release that evidence once his political life has been completely drained to its last drop."
The cold blade slid along the branches of the black pine.
"A traitor who betrayed the nation's retail barriers for his own selfish gain, allowing Wall Street capital to short-sell Japan. This is his perfect farewell performance."
"Click."
A withered branch was cleanly and neatly cut off at the base by scissors and fell onto the bluestone slab.
Satsuki stared at the neat cut.
"These domestic politicians are nothing to fear."
She put down the scissors, her voice sounding somewhat low in the morning breeze.
"As for Washington."
"That SEC investigator named Arthur Vance is probably not even going to leave the Manhattan courthouse right now. Other agencies don't seem to have any intention of taking action against us for the time being."
She turned around and walked to the rosewood coffee table. She picked up the slightly cooled cup of tea, but didn't drink it.
"SA Investment initiated its first round of covert liquidation last night. With the market falling below 29,000 points, we had to convert some of our options into actual U.S. Treasury bills in order to raise cash."
Her fingertips gently caressed the inside of the cup.
"However, options settlement and liquidation cannot bypass Wall Street's clearinghouses. The withdrawal of hundreds of billions of dollars in cash must go through the physical routes at the bottom level in New York."
Satsuki's gaze pierced through the shoji doors of the tea room, looking towards the distant horizon.
"Just wait, those old dogs on Wall Street will be biting soon."
……
Lower Manhattan, New York.
The rain poured down, the dense raindrops pounding furiously against the tempered glass curtain wall of SA Investment's top-floor office area. The dim light cast a somber atmosphere over the spacious CEO's office.
Frank stood behind the walnut desk.
His breathing was steady, and his hands hung naturally at his sides. But his face, which had been through countless trials in the Wall Street meat grinder, was extremely solemn at this moment.
Opposite the desk stood an elderly white man with a full head of silver hair, wearing a bespoke three-piece suit.
The old man had a gentle, well-mannered smile on his lips, and he leaned on an umbrella with a pure silver handle, looking like a kind and approachable elder.
"Mr. Frank," the old man said slowly and elegantly, "Nice to meet you. I am Williams, Chief Risk Officer of Salomon Brothers. President Gutfred extends his sincerest respect to the exceptional talent you have demonstrated during this short-selling cycle."
He bowed slightly, his manners impeccable.
Frank maintained his business politeness and nodded slightly in return.
"Mr. Williams, you are too kind. I have long admired your company's reputation. As the dominant player in the global options market, your company has always been a rule-maker on Wall Street."
His gaze swept over the old man's silver-handled umbrella, still damp with rain, and paused slightly.
"However... having Solomon's chief risk officer make a trip in this rainy weather, Mr. Gutfred, surely you brought other, more important proposals?" Frank met the old man's eyes.
"certainly."
Williams smiled and took a light gray envelope sealed with sealing wax from the inside pocket of his suit.
He stepped forward and gently placed the envelope on the walnut table in front of Frank. Beside the envelope was a square, black 3.5-inch floppy disk.
"A small, insignificant gift."
Williams pointed to the floppy disk.
"Last night, your company initiated the first round of options liquidation and settlement. At the routing node for fund remittance in the New York Clearing House, our company's quantitative department's supercomputer accidentally captured some... extremely sophisticated algorithmic links."
The old man's voice remained gentle.
"Our actuaries did a little reverse engineering and accidentally discovered something... interesting."
He paused, his smile deepening.
"Mr. Frank, you and your master have taken the fattest piece of meat from this feast."
Frank's eye muscles twitched very slightly. He didn't look at the floppy disk; his gaze was fixed on the old man's eyes.
Williams withdrew his hand and placed his hands back on the umbrella handle.
"Given the excessively high frequency of these liquidation funds and their origin from multiple offshore accounts, Salomon Brothers, as one of the market makers responsible for settlement, submitted a routine risk warning to the clearinghouse based on its industry compliance obligations."
The old man looked at Frank, his voice filled with regret.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Frank. The clearinghouse has officially initiated its Anti-Money Laundering (AML) and unusual transaction verification procedures. Within the compliance framework, the remittance channel for your first batch of liquidated cash is currently temporarily frozen."
Frank remained standing, his breath catching for a moment. He stared intently at the old man's gentle, smiling face, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty.
He frantically searched his mind for legal grounds to refute the claim.
But it can't be found.
The other party played Wall Street's most impeccable compliance card. As long as this procedure remains in place, not a single cent of the $35 billion in profits will leave the clearinghouse.
Williams extended his white-gloved right hand and tapped the envelope with the sealing wax stamp.
"However, misunderstandings can always be cleared up. President Gutfred very much hopes to have a frank and friendly exchange with the person truly in charge behind your company."
He bowed slightly.
"This weekend, at a private cigar club in Lower Manhattan, President Gutfred has prepared the finest dinner and awaits your arrival."
"Excuse me, Mr. Frank. Have a nice morning."
The old man turned around, his leather shoes clicking on the carpet, and walked steadily out of the office.
Frank stood behind his desk. His breathing remained steady, but a fine layer of cold sweat had broken out on his back.
He lowered his head, his gaze falling on the black floppy disk and the wax-sealed letter.
The office was eerily quiet; there were no sirens blaring, nor the sound of SEC agents breaking down the door. A bead of cold sweat slid down his chin and landed on the walnut wood table with a barely audible thud.
He was acutely aware of the destructive power of that floppy disk. If it had appeared on Arthur Vance's fax machine, SA Investment's underlying holdings would have been frozen immediately. But Gutfred chose to send someone in private. The other party used the privileges of anti-money laundering procedures to tightly block the physical exit for fund transfers, and then handed him a napkin.
Frank closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the cold air.
These Wall Street oligarchs wanted to use this as leverage to force him to sit at the poker table.
Frank opened his eyes, reached out his right hand, and grabbed the red encrypted private line receiver from the corner of the table. His fingers spun rapidly on the dial pad.
……
Marunouchi, Tokyo. Saionji Corporation headquarters, underground core strategy room.
Satsuki's light blue kimono skirt swayed slightly with her steps as she descended the metal stairs into the strategy room.
She walked to the control panel, extended her fair fingers, and pressed the hands-free button.
"Boss."
Frank's voice came through the speaker.
"Several core market makers on Wall Street, together with the clearinghouse, temporarily froze the outflow of our first batch of liquidated cash, citing that 'high-frequency trading orders triggered anti-money laundering and abnormal transaction verification procedures.'"
Frank then recounted in great detail the entire process of Salomon Brothers' chief risk officer's solo visit to the Manhattan office an hour earlier, as well as the floppy disk and dinner invitation left behind by the officer.
"The other side likely knows more than we realize."
Frank paused for a moment on the other end.
"Gutfred is blackmailing us into giving up profits. If we refuse to go, a copy of that floppy disk will most likely end up on Arthur Vance's desk."
Satsuki listened quietly to Frank's report.
Faced with the multinational financial giant's strategy of first imposing a "compliance-based chokehold" and then a "polite invitation," her face showed no sign of panic. On the contrary, she lowered her eyes slightly, and a hint of pleasure at meeting a worthy opponent slowly emerged deep within them.
Gutfred, in my past life, was someone I could hardly even meet...
She picked up the bone china teacup placed on the edge of the counter and took a sip of tea.
This is simply the perfect opportunity to break the deadlock.
After the market crash, the Saionji family returned to Japan with a massive amount of capital, intending to acquire bankrupt, high-quality businesses and core banks from the ruins. The biggest obstacle was never the money, but rather the Ministry of Finance's anti-monopoly review and the xenophobic defenses of the local zaibatsu. She needed a Wall Street oligarch large enough to withstand Washington's administrative intervention as cover.
The impending wave of bankruptcies in Japan presents a prime opportunity for those mountains of "non-performing loans (NPLs)."
The Solomon brothers want the 35 billion li of bridge toll. Then give it to them.
Using the corpses of Japanese entities as bait, the greedy Wall Street wolf was completely ensnared on the Saionji family's chariot. They were then allowed to utilize their vast financial channels to assist the SPV matrix in harvesting core Japanese assets.
With a slight flick of her wrist, Satsuki gently placed the teacup back onto the sandalwood saucer.
"Frank, return the courtesy to Mr. Gutfred with the same level of courtesy."
Satsuki spoke softly into the phone. Her tone was calm and unhurried, even carrying a hint of pre-banquet relaxation.
"Tell him I'm really looking forward to my trip to Manhattan this weekend. I hope the red wine he's prepared is worthy of this $35 billion appetizer."
"Understood, Boss."
Frank's voice responded steadily on the other end of the radio.
Satsuki extended her index finger and pressed the cut-off button. The faint hum of electricity from the speaker vanished instantly, and the strategy room returned to a deathly silence filled only with the hum of machinery.
She turned around and looked at the butler who had been standing like a shadow in the shadows of the control panel.
"Fujita."
"Yes, young lady."
Fujita immediately stepped forward and bowed slightly.
"Prepare the flight path."
"Go to New York."