SWDnovel Chapter 29 The Art of Membership
Chapter 29 The Art of Membership
In July, the wind in Karuizawa is green.
Unlike the sweltering heat of Tokyo, where it feels like even the asphalt could melt, the air here at an altitude of 1,000 meters is cool and clear. Sunlight filters through the dense larch forest, turning into dappled spots of light that dance on the moss-covered stone path.
"Tingsong Villa".
This 60-year-old wooden villa nestles quietly in the embrace of the forest. The dark brown wooden walls exude a faint scent of pine resin, and the spacious terrace extends over the valley, with a babbling brook flowing below.
On the terrace, there is a white rattan round table.
Shuichi was wearing a loose linen shirt with the cuffs casually rolled up, holding a glass of lemonade with ice in his hand. The ice cubes clinked against the glass.
In front of him were several "mountains of paper".
Those were membership applications and recommendation letters for "The Club" sent from Tokyo, after initial screening.
Although the clubhouse in Azabu-Juban is still under renovation and the scaffolding has not yet been removed, thanks to Shuichi's careful marketing, the news that "Duke Saionji is going to build a top-notch club" has spread throughout Nagata-cho and Marunouchi through his connections.
He has already invited several high-profile figures to The Club, and through a deal of mutual benefit, they have agreed to cooperate with Shuichi in promotion.
In this year of rampant money, people's anxiety about "class" is stronger than ever before. The more mysterious, expensive, and unapproachable something is, the more eager those with hot money in their hands will flock to it.
So, whether they just wanted to join in the fun or genuinely wanted to join, they all submitted their membership applications to Shuichi.
"Too many."
Xiu put down a document in his hand and rubbed his temples.
"Yesterday alone, the firm received twenty applications. There were presidents of construction companies, owners of chain supermarkets, and several individual investors who had just made a lot of money in the stock market."
He picked up the top one.
"This guy named Yamada started out in the pachinko parlor business. He said he's willing to pay 200 million yen just to get a membership card."
"Two hundred million?"
Satsuki, sitting opposite her, let out a soft laugh.
Today she was wearing a simple white dress and a wide-brimmed straw hat, with a few strands of black hair hanging down beside her face, gently swaying in the wind.
She held a red fountain pen in her hand, the cap of which she held to her lip, appearing somewhat nonchalant.
"reject."
Satsuki reached out and snatched the document from her father's hand. Without even glancing at the contents, she drew a huge red X on the cover.
"Why?" Shuichi asked with some regret. "That's two hundred million in cash. And the pachinko parlor has plenty of cash flow..."
"Father."
Satsuki put down her pen and picked up a slice of watermelon from the fruit plate.
"Have you ever seen a Michelin-starred restaurant squeeze in customers reeking of smoke in the main dining area just to make more money?"
She took a bite of the watermelon, and the red juice stained her lips.
"Pinball parlors? That kind of business that makes money off ordinary people's coins, while extremely profitable, is too low-class. If we let people like that in, would the Vice Minister of Finance still be willing to come for tea? Would the President of Mitsubishi Bank still be willing to discuss business here?"
Satsuki threw the watermelon rind into a plate and wiped her hands with a damp towel.
"The Club doesn't sell drinks, or even services."
"What we're selling is the 'next-door seat.' Your status as a councilor is just a starting point; the club's core selling point is its members."
"When a member walks into our lounge, he sees the director of the Ministry of Construction sitting on his left and a partner from Goldman Sachs sitting on his right. Even if he doesn't say a word, just sitting here and breathing in the air, he'll feel that his 100 million yen membership fee is well worth it. What we do is provide these people with an opportunity to come together."
"But once impurities are mixed in, this aura is broken."
Xiu nodded, seemingly lost in thought.
Indeed, this is the logic of the old-fashioned aristocracy. Connections are always more important than money.
"What about this one?"
Shuichi pulled out another document. The cover of this document was very elegant, with gold lettering indicating the applicant's identity.
"Okura Real Estate, Masao Okura. This is a legitimate real estate developer, currently making waves with their land reclamation project in Chiba. And..."
Xiu paused, then glanced at his daughter.
"His daughter, Masami Okura, seems to be your classmate at Seiwa?"
Satsuki's gaze fell on the three large, gilded characters.
Okura.
Masami Okura, who always had a follower at school, liked to show off her father's new yacht, and mocked the Saionji family as "outdated aristocrats".
Satsuki's lips curled into a playful smile.
"The Okura family..."
She picked up the pen, the nib hovering above the name.
"Very rich. Extremely rich. I heard they recently borrowed 30 billion yen from Sumitomo Bank to build a new resort in Makuhari."
"Then you should be qualified, right?" Xiu asked.
"If it were six months ago, maybe that would have been enough."
Satsuki's pen fell to the ground.
"Whoosh—"
Another glaring red cross.
"But not now."
Xiu was stunned: "Why? Their family doesn't have any bad records, and they're not nouveau riche..."
"Because they are 'pigs'."
Satsuki's voice was soft, yet it carried a chilling undertone.
The wind rustled through the treetops, masking the calls of unknown birds deep in the forest.
"Pig?" Shuichi didn't understand.
"Father, have you seen the recent financial statements? The Okura family's debt ratio has exceeded 400%. They've put all their money into that land reclamation project in Chiba."
Satsuki tapped the table lightly with the pen handle.
"It's 1986 now. The yen is still appreciating, and the export slump continues. Although land prices are rising, that's in the heart of Tokyo. In the desolate countryside of Chiba, it's still a muddy wasteland that nobody wants."
"Their cash flow is already stretched to the limit. If the banks tighten credit even slightly, or if the project is delayed..."
Satsuki made an explosion gesture.
"Bang."
"They'll be blown to pieces."
She looked up.
"The Club is a hunters' lounge. We only welcome people with hunting rifles or maps of the hunting grounds."
"As for 'prey' like the Okura family, who have been fed until they're plump and ready to be served on the dinner table..."
"Hunters don't invite food to the table to eat together."
As Shuichi looked at the red cross, a chill inexplicably rose up down his spine.
"Understood."
Shuichi threw the document into the wastepaper basket.
"So, who should we invite?"
Satsuki pulled out several seemingly insignificant documents from the bottom of that pile of materials; some of them didn't even have covers.
"These people."
She spread out the first one.
"Chief Kijima, Accounting Bureau, Ministry of Finance."
"He has no money. He can't possibly come up with that 100 million yen membership fee in his lifetime." Shuichi frowned.
"Give it to him."
Satsuki said without hesitation.
"Give him an honorary membership card. Waive all fees. Tell him that this is the Saionji family's way of showing respect to the pillars of the nation."
"And this one, the deputy director of the Industrial Policy Bureau of the Ministry of International Trade and Industry. Also, a gift."
"This is Section Chief Ogawa from the Tokyo Metropolitan Government's Urban Development Bureau. He's the one who helped us get the Akasaka permit last time. Give him a 90% discount."
Xiuyi understood.
This is paving the road.
Use the club's top-tier resources to support these bureaucrats who wield real power but receive meager salaries. Let them enjoy privileges they can't experience elsewhere, and let them build their own cliques here.
Moreover, even if these bureaucrats were to enter, the real bigwigs wouldn't be offended. They all know that in this country, there are plenty of people who wield real power but hold low social status.
Normally, they need to maintain their status. While it's not impossible to get these bureaucrats to do things, orders inevitably become distorted as they are passed down through layers of bureaucracy, and the resistance and costs of execution are often enormous. But in the club, it's much easier for them to get things done. Perhaps in the time it takes to open a bottle of red wine, something that would normally take several days to complete according to formal procedures can be done in a flash.
With status and power, why would they be afraid that businessmen seeking their favors would sell their possessions to squeeze in? In some ways, money is actually the easiest thing to deal with.
"Besides bureaucrats, there's this other type."
Satsuki took out another stack of documents.
"Head of Goldman Sachs' Tokyo office. Chief representative of Morgan Stanley. Bond trader at Salomon Brothers."
"But they're foreigners..." Shuichi hesitated. "Although Rokumeikan is Western-style, its core is still..."
"Father, times have changed."
Satsuki interrupted him.
"The wolves of Wall Street have already smelled blood. They know more about finance and how to manipulate capital than we do."
"Let them in. We want to hear what they're talking about, what they're buying, and what they're selling."
Satsuki's red pen flew across the paper, marking things up quickly.
Every name included in the circle wields significant influence in a particular field.
A director of Mitsubishi, a board member of Sumitomo, the editor-in-chief of Yomiuri Shimbun, a high-ranking official in the Metropolitan Police Department...
The list is getting longer and heavier.
It is no longer a simple list of clients, but a huge spider web covering the political, business, media, and police sectors.
Half an hour later.
The "mountain of paper" on the table disappeared.
All that remained was a thin sheet of paper, on which forty-eight names were neatly listed.
"Forty-eight people."
Satsuki capped the pen and threw the red pen back into the pen holder.
"This is the only number of members we'll accept for the first batch."
"Scarcity drives up value. The rest of you, get in line. Tell them the council is conducting rigorous background checks, which will likely take... six months."
Shuichi picked up the list.
Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the leaves onto the paper, making the names seem to glow.
He knew that some of these people were coming in out of respect for him, while others were there to gain practical benefits. However, none of this could form a real force; it was at best a loose "club of enthusiasts." It was far from being able to make this "club of enthusiasts" work for the Saionji family.
Do you have any other plans?
Shuichi watched his daughter's retreating figure, lost in thought.
He didn't believe his daughter hadn't made any arrangements for this; her previous achievements had proven that his young daughter was far more capable than him.
Since Satsuki didn't say anything, she must have her reasons.
Xiu Yi nodded slightly and put down the list in his hand.
Satsuki stood up, walked to the edge of the terrace, held onto the railing, and gazed at Mount Asama in the distance.
The mountaintop was shrouded in mist, obscuring its true appearance.
"Father, can you feel it?"
"What?"
"The wind has changed."
Satsuki stretched out her hand, feeling the wind blowing from the valley.
"At this time last year, the air was thick with anxiety and despair. Everyone was worried about bankruptcy and unemployment."
"But this year, there's a... restless sweetness in the wind."
"That's the smell of greed."
She turned around, raised her hand to brush away the strands of hair that were being blown by the wind, and smiled at her father, her skirt fluttering in the wind.
"People started to get carried away. Banks started begging people to lend money, the stock market started hitting new highs every day, and even taxi drivers were talking about where land prices had gone up again."
"The party is about to begin."
Xiuyi walked to his daughter's side and looked at the clouds as well.
"So, we built this club."
"Yes."
Satsuki nodded.
"When the flood came, this was the first-class cabin of Noah's Ark."
"We select passengers not based on how well-dressed they are, but on whether they have a ticket."
"The Okura family doesn't have boat tickets. They're too heavy; they'll sink the ship."
Shuichi was silent for a moment, then smiled.
He reached out and ruffled his daughter's hair.
"It seems these forty-eight people have a lot to thank you for, little captain."
"Father, do you still have some doubts about what I've done?"
Satsuki let Shuichi stroke her head and said softly.
Upon hearing this, Xiu paused for a moment, and stopped what he was doing.
His silence answered for him.
"Don't worry, Father. When we successfully predict the flood time and time again, they will beg to stay."
"You mean something like the Plaza Accord? But... can these things really be predicted?"
Shuichi looked at Satsuki and then became solemn.
"Satsuki, you're not really a messenger sent by the gods, are you? Have you reached the point where you can predict the future?"
puff.
Hearing Shuichi say this so seriously, Satsuki couldn't help but cover her mouth and chuckle.
"Haha... Father, you're quite the joker..." She picked up a cup of tea from the table. "I can't say I'm divinely appointed; I'm just... taking advantage of this turbulent era."
Satsuki took a sip of tea and looked at Shuichi.
"Besides, those who exploit disasters...wouldn't it be more accurate to call them demons?"
She flipped through the calendar on the table, her finger lightly touching a date—
1987 year 10 month 19 day
"Fine, I, the devil, have made my decision. Let disaster befall us on this day!"
The girl smiled, seemingly deciding which delicious cake she would eat tomorrow.