mesbooks Chapter 150 The Backstab of Justice
Chapter 150 The Backstab of Justice
(This chapter has 4800 words, consider it compensation for not updating yesterday~)
February 3, 1989.
Nagata-cho, Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo.
The shadow cast behind the Liberal Democratic Party headquarters building was long in the winter sun, almost covering half a block.
The Takeshita cabinet is in turmoil. The repercussions of the Recruit scandal have not yet subsided, and the push for a consumption tax has caused the cabinet's approval rating to plummet. Behind every closed window, anxious breathing can be heard.
A black Nissan Presidential Sedan slowly pulled up in front of the House of Representatives First Members' Building.
Shuichi Saionji opened the car door. He was wearing a dark gray cashmere coat with a barely noticeable family crest brooch pinned to the collar. A cold wind whipped up fallen leaves, whizzing past his leather shoes.
He was not accompanied by any attendants, but carried a black briefcase and walked steadily toward the elevator.
Fifth floor, room 508.
The nameplate on the door reads "Ichiro Osawa, Member of the House of Representatives".
This is the office of Ichiro Osawa, one of the "Seven Commissioners of the Takeshita Faction" and a powerful figure within the party. People come and go in the corridor, secretaries carrying documents hurry about, and telephones ring incessantly, conveying a sense of tension as a major battle is about to begin.
"Mr. Saionji, Representative Osawa is waiting for you."
The secretary seemed to have been prepared, and led Shuichi directly into the innermost office.
The heavy soundproof door closed, completely shutting out the noise from outside.
"The public needs a large number of small-denomination coins to pay this tax or to make change."
Xiuyi pointed to the report.
"However, the elite bureaucrats in the Ministry of Finance seem to be only concerned with calculating how much tax they can collect, but have forgotten to calculate whether there are enough coins in the market to make the people pay taxes."
Ichiro Osawa quickly flipped through the documents. The more he read, the more his brows furrowed, but the light in his eyes grew stronger.
As a master of power politics, he instantly sensed the immense destructive power hidden behind the report.
Attacking the consumption tax itself? That's political suicide. It's D's decision, a bill he himself voted for.
Attacking Rikuro? That would be digging his own grave. Although the Saionji family cleared his name, no one wants to step into this quagmire again.
However, attacking the "coin shortage"...
This is different.
This has nothing to do with political stance or left/right wing; it is pure "administrative incompetence."
"They can't even prepare change properly, yet they want to forcibly take money from the people's pockets," Osawa muttered to himself, a sinister smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "It's like a robber robbing someone and then making the victim buy rope to tie themselves up."
"Not only that."
Xiuichi delivered the finishing blow at just the right moment.
"According to our calculations, if there is a shortage of coins on April 1st, the checkout speed of convenience stores and supermarkets in Tokyo will drop by 40%. Housewives will not be able to buy ingredients for dinner, and office workers will be late because of the long queues."
"This will cause chaos throughout society."
"And all of this is because of the Takeshita Cabinet's lack of preparation."
Ichiro Osawa slammed the file shut.
"Smack."
A crisp sound.
"Good stuff." Osawa looked up, staring intently at Shuichi. "Shuichi-kun, is this data reliable?"
"Absolutely reliable." Shuichi smiled. "This conclusion is based on the Osaka Mint's internal production logs and our on-site sampling at two thousand retail outlets throughout Tokyo."
"in addition……"
Shuichi took another piece of paper out of his bag.
"This is a draft announcement that will be released by Saionji Industrial's 'S-Mart' and 'S-Food'."
Daze took it and glanced at it.
To alleviate the coin shortage, S-Mart promises: change will be rounded down at checkout, no 1 yen coins required.
"Are you going to do a promotion at this time?" Osawa asked.
"No, we're helping the government maintain stability," Xiu Yi corrected. "Since the country can't produce coins, we'll save the people the trouble of using them. Of course, this also highlights the incompetence of some people."
Ichiro Osawa looked at the two documents in his hand.
One is a spear to attack the government, and the other is a shield to win people's hearts.
The Saionji family delivered both items to him.
"Ha ha ha ha……"
Osawa suddenly laughed, the sound echoing in the smoke-filled room.
"Shuichi-kun, your Saionji family is truly a born bad breed."
He stood up, walked to his desk, and pressed the internal phone button.
"Inform the members of the Budget Committee that the order of questions tomorrow will be adjusted. I want to speak first."
"Also, summon the director of the Ministry of Finance's Bank Bureau and the director of the Mint. I want to ask them if they can actually do math."
Shuichi also stood up and straightened his clothes.
"Then, I won't disturb Mr. Osawa's preparations any longer."
"Shuichi-kun."
Osawa called out to Shuichi, who was about to leave.
"I'll remember this favor."
Xiu turned around and bowed slightly.
"We were just doing our duty as citizens. After all, it's heartbreaking to see people queuing in the cold for a few coins."
The door closed.
Ichiro Osawa sat back down on the sofa and lit a new cigarette.
The firelight illuminated his ambitious face.
Since Takeshita Noboru was already teetering on the brink of collapse, he wouldn't mind giving him another push.
Using a single aluminum coin weighing only 1 gram to pry open that heavy prime minister's throne.
……
February 4th, 9:00 AM.
House of Representatives Chambers, First Committee Room.
The air here was even colder than outside. A huge crystal chandelier cast a solemn glow, illuminating the rows of deep red velvet chairs below.
The budget committee is currently in session.
Finance Minister Tatsuo Murayama sat on the podium, holding a white handkerchief in his hand, constantly wiping his forehead.
These days have been tough. The opposition is relentlessly pursuing the Recruit case like mad dogs, and every response feels like walking a tightrope.
"The next questioner is Ichiro Osawa from the Liberal Democratic Party."
The Chairman's voice rang out.
Murayama breathed a sigh of relief. They were on his side. Although Osawa was a militant, he was also a major force in promoting the consumption tax, so he shouldn't make things too difficult for him. At most, he'd ask a few formal questions about the budget, giving him a chance to explain the necessity of the policy.
Ichiro Osawa stood up.
He had specially changed to a bright red tie today, which stood out conspicuously in the sea of dark gray suits.
He wasn't holding any prepared remarks, just a thin document clipped to his finger with a paperclip.
"Minister of Finance."
Daze's voice, transmitted through the microphone, resonated throughout the venue, sounding calm and powerful.
"We've discussed the necessity of a consumption tax many times within the party. I don't want to talk about that today."
Murayama nodded, preparing to recite his prepared standard answer on "financial resources for an aging society".
"I want to ask a more specific question."
Osawa held up the document in his hand.
"There are less than two months until the new tax law takes effect on April 1st. I would like to ask the Minister, has the Ministry of Finance made physical preparations for the impending surge in demand for coins in the market?"
Murayama was stunned for a moment.
coin?
Such trivial matters are usually handled by administrative staff and are not even worthy of the attention of ministers.
"Uh... the mint is producing according to plan..." Murayama replied vaguely.
"As planned?"
Daze sneered.
"According to the data I have, the Osaka Mint is currently producing 40 million coins per day. Market estimates indicate that the shortage on April 1st will be 400 million coins."
"Four hundred million."
Daze repeated the number, his voice suddenly rising in pitch.
"Minister, how do you plan to fill this shortfall of 400 million coins? Will you fold paper? Or will you have citizens borrow money from each other at the cash registers?"
The entire audience erupted in uproar.
The press box was instantly flooded with flashes.
Murayama's expression changed. He turned to look at the Vice-Minister behind him, who also looked blank, clearly having never paid attention to this detail before.
"This...this data might be..." Murayama tried to explain.
"This is the mint's internal production log!"
Daze slammed the document on the table.
"Bang!"
A loud bang reverberated through the microphone, making everyone's ears ring.
"In order to extract that 3% tax from the people's pockets, you haven't even prepared the most basic tools for collecting money! Is this the Ministry of Finance's 'perfect plan'? Is this the Takeshita Cabinet's 'administrative ability'?"
Osawa pointed at Murayama's nose, spittle flying under the light.
"You're treating the people like monkeys!"
"When housewives go to the supermarket with their wallets, they can't pay because they don't have a single yen; when office workers queue for half an hour at the checkout just to buy a bento box."
"Who will take responsibility for this chaos, this enormous trouble it has brought to the lives of the people? Is it you? Or Prime Minister Takeshita?"
"Whoosh—"
The entire committee room erupted in cheers.
Opposition lawmakers slammed their fists on the table and cheered loudly. They hadn't expected that, at this critical juncture, it would be a senior figure within the ruling party who would deliver the most devastating blow to the government.
Moreover, that stab was incredibly precise.
It avoids complex tax system theories and directly addresses the pain points in people's lives that they care about most.
"No change", "Queue", "Trouble".
These words are more effective at stirring public opinion than any corruption accusation.
Murayama was speechless, sweating profusely. He looked at Osawa Ichiro, who usually called him his brother, but now seemed like a strange executioner.
He was betrayed.
He was betrayed by his own people.
……
February 5th.
The storm of public opinion was even more intense than expected.
The Yomiuri Shimbun's front page headline reads: "Coin Crisis! Japan to Face 'Cash Panic' on April 1st."
Asahi Shimbun editorial: "Does a government that can't even manage a single coin have the right to talk about the future?"
Under the cover of these mainstream newspapers, the tabloids and gossip magazines controlled by SA Group went all out.
The magazine "Weekly Bunshun" published a simulated report titled "What if there hadn't been a 1 yen that day," which vividly described the sensational story of supermarkets collapsing, vending machines stopping, and even people delaying ambulances because they were trying to collect coins.
"Have you heard? From now on, you'll have to pay extra if you don't have a 1-yen coin!"
"Really? Does that mean the price will go up again?"
"Those government officials are really useless. All they think about is collecting taxes; they can't even manufacture a single coin."
On the streets and alleys, in izakayas, on the tram.
The discussion quickly shifted from "Who took the money from Recruit?" to "How much 1 yen is left in my piggy bank?"
An anxiety called "trouble" began to spread in Tokyo.
A small bookstore in Shinjuku.
The shop owner looked at the coin compartment in the cash register with a worried expression.
"How can we do business if we really don't have any change..."
He sighed and took out a glass jar full of coins from under the counter. It was his son's pocket money that he had saved up for several years.
"I was originally planning to save up to buy Taro a bicycle..."
The shop owner poured all the coins out of the glass jar and counted them one by one.
Behind him, on the television screen, news footage of congressional questioning was playing.
Ichiro Osawa was waving his fist, denouncing the government's incompetence.
"We need a government that gets things done, not a bunch of bureaucrats who just sit in their offices drinking tea!"
The shop owner watched TV and nodded.
"That's right."
……
late at night.
Bunkyo District, Saionji Headquarters.
In the living room, the firelight flickered in the fireplace.
Shuichi sat on the sofa, holding a glass of Bordeaux red wine in his hand.
On the television screen, NHK's evening news was rebroadcasting footage of the daytime parliamentary proceedings.
The camera gave Finance Minister Murayama a close-up.
The minister, who was usually high and mighty, was now awkwardly wiping his sweat with a handkerchief, his eyes darting around, his lips trembling, like a rabbit cornered against a wall.
Opposite him, Ichiro Osawa exuded an imposing aura, as if he were the embodiment of justice.
"You acted so well."
Xiu said softly.
He picked up the remote control and pressed the mute button.
The world is quiet.
The images continued to flicker, the swamp continued to roar, and the mountains continued to tremble.
It was like a silent farce.
Shuichi gently swirled the wine glass in his hand. The deep red liquid dripped onto the glass like streaks of tears, shimmering alluringly in the firelight.
"A coin."
He looked at the wine in his glass.
"With just a small aluminum coin, these big shots can be made to look ridiculous."
"Is this what politics is?"
He recalled what his daughter had said to him in the study a year ago:
"Father, so-called politics is nothing more than the redistribution of resources. As long as you control the flow of resources, you can make water flow uphill."
Now, he has a grasp on where the coins are going.
And so, the water really did flow backward.
"Satsuki..."
Xiu Yi turned his head and looked at his daughter who was sitting on the other side of the sofa reading a book.
Satsuki was wearing pajamas, with a copy of "Das Kapital" on her lap.
She seemed oblivious to the farce on television, focusing intently on turning a page of her book.
"What's wrong, Father?"
"It's nothing."
Xiu smiled, raised his wine glass, and clinked it against the empty air.
"I just feel that the wine tonight is exceptionally fragrant and mellow."
Satsuki looked up and glanced at Osawa Ichiro, who was silently roaring on the TV screen.
A faint smile curved her lips.
"The real show is just beginning."
She closed the book.
"When those four hundred million coins really become air, that's when this country will truly begin to 'feel pain'."
"People only obediently pay for medicine when they are in pain."
She stood up and walked towards the bedroom.
Goodnight, Father.
"Good night."
Shuichi watched his daughter's departing figure.
The light and shadow from the television screen shifted across his face.
He took a sip of his drink.
Bitter, yet with a sweet aftertaste.
This is the taste of power.
Outside the window, the wind howled through the bare branches.
On this cold winter night, Tokyo remains brightly lit.