88: Chapter 88 The Tycoons Being Manipulated

In an auxiliary conference room on the east side of the Imperial Palace in Tokyo, the carved wooden windows were tightly shut, sealing out both the sunlight and the clamor from outside.

Inside, over a dozen Cabinet Ministers sat around a long rosewood table; the air was permeated with a faint scent of washi paper, yet it could not mask the anxiety and calculation in their words.

"That 1 billion USD security fee cannot possibly come entirely from the national treasury."

The Minister of Finance pushed up the glasses on the bridge of his nose, his tone clearly conveying his predicament.

"This year's budget has already been approved; national defense, education, healthcare... none of these can be touched. If we force a reallocation, next year's livelihood projects will have to be halted."

His words were like a stone thrown into stagnant water, instantly creating ripples.

The ministers nodded in agreement one after another, their brows locked in worry—

The emptiness of the national treasury was an open secret; they had already been living beyond their means to deal with the destruction caused by the Black Organization and the "protection fees" for the U.S. military. Now, having to come up with another 1 billion USD was tantamount to cutting off one's own flesh to patch a wound.

"But the U.S. military is pressing hard. General White said that if they don't see the money within a week, they will reassess the base's 'defense level'."

The Minister of Foreign Affairs pulled a long face. Everyone understood the subtext of these words—the so-called "reassessment" was merely an excuse to extort more money.

The conference room fell into a brief silence, with only the ticking of the clock echoing in the spacious room, making everyone feel tense.

Everyone was calculating, but no one was willing to speak up first—everyone knew that no matter where this money came from, it would touch someone's interests, and a slight misstep could bring disaster upon themselves.

Just then, the Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry, who had been silent all along, suddenly raised his head, a meaningful smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

He tapped his fingers gently on the table, making a rhythmic "tok-tok" sound, his gaze sweeping over everyone present: "Gentlemen, have we forgotten? The 'masters' of this country are not just us officials."

Everyone was stunned and looked at him with confusion.

The smile on the face of the Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry deepened, but his tone suddenly became serious:

"Who is our government working so hard for? It's those Zaibatsu hiding in high-rise buildings, those entrepreneurs who have made a fortune relying on national stability, and even more so, the citizens who enjoy the dividends of public security! Now that the country is in trouble, shouldn't they also 'contribute' a little?"

"Contribute?"

The Minister of Health, Labour and Welfare frowned, "Do you mean... to impose taxes on the public? But having just experienced suppression by the U.S. military, raising taxes again will likely trigger even greater chaos."

"Who said anything about the public?"

The Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry sneered, a flash of cunning in his eyes, "How much money could the public possibly have? The real fat meat is in the hands of those Zaibatsu. Suzuki, Ooka, Tanaka... which one of them isn't wealthier than the nation itself? They usually make a fortune relying on favorable government policies, so now that the country needs money, shouldn't they do their part?"

Once these words were spoken, the conference room fell silent, and the ministers' expressions changed.

Asking the Zaibatsu for money? This was a bold idea—those Zaibatsu had deeply entrenched roots; they not only controlled the country's economic lifeline but were also the "patrons" of many Cabinet Ministers. Touching their interests was tantamount to pulling teeth from a tiger's mouth.

"This... isn't that a bad idea?"

A minister from the faction supported by the Tanaka Zaibatsu spoke hesitantly, his tone filled with trepidation, "After all, everyone has... connections behind them. If we push them too hard, I'm afraid it will backfire."

His words voiced everyone's inner thoughts.

Among the ministers present, who hadn't received favors from the Zaibatsu? Some relied on Zaibatsu funding to ascend to high positions, and some had family businesses deeply tied to them. If they really tore off the mask, they would likely be the first to suffer.

"Connections?"

The Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry slammed the table, his voice rising sharply with an unquestionable aura, "What time is it now? It is a time when U.S. military tanks are blocking the entrance to the Imperial Palace! It is a time when the country might be further encroached upon! In the face of national survival, what do those so-called 'connections' amount to?"

He stood up and walked to the center of the conference room, his gaze sweeping over everyone like a torch: "I know the Zaibatsu have contributed to the country, and we usually respect them and give way to them. But now is a critical juncture, so we have to wrong them a little and get this money together first! After we weather this crisis, we can slowly compensate them later."

This speech sounded high-sounding, yet it hit everyone's weak spot—compared to offending the Zaibatsu, the consequences of offending the U.S. military and the Emperor were clearly more serious.

"The Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry is right."

The Prime Minister finally spoke, his tone carrying a trace of helplessness, but also showing determination, "Let's do it this way. Let the Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry take the lead, summon the heads of the major Zaibatsu to a meeting, and apportion this expense."

With the Prime Minister's final decision, the other ministers had no reason to object.

They nodded in agreement, putting on serious expressions of "sharing the country's burdens," while each had their own calculations in mind—being able to shift the blame to the Zaibatsu while protecting their own interests, why wouldn't they do it?

The Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry watched everyone's reaction, a subtle, imperceptible sneer curling at the corners of his mouth.

This was the result he wanted—it both completed the task assigned by Lin Long to "disrupt the relationship between the Zaibatsu and the government" and allowed him to extricate himself, which could be considered killing two birds with one stone.

...

Two hours later, the atmosphere in the conference room attached to the Imperial Palace had changed completely.

At the other end of the long rosewood table sat seven or eight elderly men, elegantly dressed and possessing a graceful demeanor.

They were Suzuki Shiro of the Suzuki Zaibatsu, Ooka Tadashi (the grandfather of Ooka Momiji) of the Ooka Zaibatsu, and Tanaka Masao of the Tanaka Zaibatsu... Every name carried significant weight on the economic map of the island nation.

At this moment, these Zaibatsu heads, who usually commanded great power, had faces that were grimmer than the next.

"You mean to ask us to pay? To pay 1 billion USD?"

Suzuki Shiro slammed his teacup onto the table, causing tea to splash out and soak the expensive sleeve of his kimono, "The government wants to pay the U.S. military a 'security fee,' so why should we, the Zaibatsu, foot the bill?"

"Chairman Suzuki, please calm down."

The Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry wore a hypocritical smile, but his tone was undeniably firm, "This is not 'footing the bill,' but 'contributing' to the country. Think about it, the U.S. military is stationed in Tokyo, who are they protecting? It's your shopping malls, your factories, and your shipping routes! Now that the country needs funds to appease them, shouldn't you, the enterprises that benefit the most, do your part?"

"Benefit?"

Ooka Tadashi sneered. His granddaughter, Ooka Momiji, had previously encountered an attack by the Black Organization on the Suzuki cruise ship, and he was already dissatisfied with the government's "protection." "Our cruise ship was bombed and destroyed, with losses amounting to billions, yet has the government compensated us a single cent? Now, it's even better; they turn around and want us to give 1 billion to the U.S. military. How can there be such logic in the world?"

"Mr. Ooka, that's not the right way to put it."

The smile on the face of the Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry remained unchanged, but his tone cooled, "The cruise ship incident was an accident, and the government is also making every effort to track down the culprits. But the situation now is different—the U.S. military has said that if the money is not in place, they will raise the 'alert level.' By then, if tanks roll into the commercial district and affect everyone's business, that won't be good."

This was almost a naked threat. The Zaibatsu were all sharp individuals; they instantly heard the subtext—if they didn't pay, the government would tacitly allow the U.S. military to "harass" their businesses.

Tanaka Masao's face was livid. His family mainly operated in electronics manufacturing, with most of their factories distributed around Tokyo. Once the U.S. military "raised the alert level," his business would be the first to be affected.

"Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry, that's not how it works. 1 billion USD is not a small amount. Even if we want to 'contribute,' we have to have the ability to do so, right?"

"Ability?"

The Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry seemed to have heard a joke, took a document out of his briefcase, and threw it on the table, "The Suzuki Zaibatsu just won a resort project in Southeast Asia last month, with profits of at least 5 billion. The Ooka Zaibatsu's shipping company saw a 30% increase in net profit in the first quarter of this year. Mr. Tanaka's electronics factory even received orders from the U.S. military... If you gentlemen don't have the ability, then I'm afraid no one in the island nation has the ability."

He had clearly done his homework and had figured out the financial standing of each major Zaibatsu clearly.

The faces of the Zaibatsu heads became even uglier. They hadn't expected the Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry to be so ruthless, stripping them bare right in front of everyone.

"I think there's no need to apportion the full 1 billion."

Seeing that the timing was right, the Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry softened his tone, "Suzuki Zaibatsu will pay 300 million, Ooka Zaibatsu will pay 200 million, Tanaka Zaibatsu will pay 150 million, and the rest will be shared by the other families. How about that? This will demonstrate your 'patriotic heart' without causing any serious damage to your foundations."

"Chairman Suzuki, don't complain about paying more. After all, the Suzuki Family's base is in Tokyo. You must know that if a riot breaks out in Tokyo, the Suzuki Family will suffer the greatest losses."

This figure had clearly been calculated in advance, making the Zaibatsu feel the pain without driving them to desperate measures.

Suzuki Shiro looked at the hypocritical face of the Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry, then at the silent Prime Minister and other ministers beside him, and knew that he had no choice but to pay the money today.

He gritted his teeth: "Fine! 300 million it is! But I'll say this upfront: this is the last time!"

With the Suzuki Zaibatsu taking the lead, the other Zaibatsu heads, though full of unwillingness, had no choice but to bite the bullet and accept it. Ooka Tadashi snorted coldly, which counted as tacit consent; Tanaka Masao closed his eyes and nodded...

In just half an hour, this 1 billion USD that had caused the Cabinet so much trouble was forcibly apportioned to the major Zaibatsu.

...

When sending the Zaibatsu heads off, the Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry specially escorted Suzuki Shiro and Ooka Tadashi to the door, putting on a "helpless" bitter expression.

"Chairman Suzuki, Mr. Ooka, I am truly sorry."

He sighed, lowering his voice extremely low, "Actually, I didn't want to do this either, but look at the Prime Minister and the other ministers... they are all scared to death, terrified that the U.S. military will be unhappy. I have no choice either; I can only wrong you all."

Suzuki Shiro was so shrewd that he instantly saw through his trick—this was shifting the blame! He was directing all the resentment toward the Prime Minister and other ministers, while playing the role of a "helpless executor" himself.

"The Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry is thoughtful, it's all for the country after all."

Suzuki Shiro said with a forced smile and turned to leave, but a cold glint flashed in the depths of his eyes. He knew clearly in his heart that this debt could not just be left at that.

Ooka Tadashi didn't even give him a glance and left with a flick of his sleeves.

Watching the backs of the Zaibatsu as they left, the bitter expression on the face of the Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry vanished instantly, replaced by a calculating, cold sneer.

He turned and looked in the direction of the conference room where the Cabinet Ministers were, a flash of mockery in his eyes—these idiots thought they had shifted the blame to the Zaibatsu, not knowing that they had long since become his chess pieces.

He took out his mobile phone and sent a message to Lin Long: "The fish has entered the net, the rift has deepened."

Soon, he received a reply, only two words: "Very good."

The Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry put away his phone, the smile on his lips becoming increasingly smug.

He knew that the Zaibatsu would never swallow this insult; the conflict between them and the Cabinet would be like a seed that would take root and sprout in the coming days, eventually growing into a great tree capable of overturning everything.

And he only needed to watch quietly from the sidelines and add fuel to the fire from time to time.

...

In the conference room, the ministers were still relieved that they had "solved" the security fee issue, complimenting each other, saying "The Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry has great resolve."

The Prime Minister also showed a rare smile, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

None of them realized that this forcibly apportioned 1 billion USD was not just money, but a double-edged sword—it temporarily appeased the U.S. military, but it had cut a deep rift between the government and the Zaibatsu.

And this rift would eventually become the grave that buried them.