Reborn in Tokyo: From Heiress to Global Tycoon

Chapter 123 The Web of the Void

Half an hour later.

Shinagawa Ward, Osaki.

The night rain poured down, the rainwater meandering down the glass curtain wall of the Lawson headquarters building, distorting the neon lights of Tokyo outside the window into a bizarre patchwork of colors.

The twelfth meeting room on the top floor was filled with smoke.

The central air conditioning emitted a low-frequency humming sound, barely able to dispel the restless smell of tobacco that filled the room.

A group of middle-aged men in white shirts, their ties long since loosened, sat around a long table. Their eyes were bloodshot, their gazes fixed on the fax machine in the center of the table, which had just stopped working.

The air was filled with the burnt smell of thermal paper.

"Sizzle—"

The final, crisp sound of the paper cutter rang out.

The purchasing manager's hand trembled, and cigarette ash fell onto the cuff of his shirt, which was soaked with sweat from nervousness. He didn't wipe it away, but instead reached out and grabbed the thin paper that still held the warmth of the roller.

That's the final copy of the contract that was just faxed over from President Nakauchi.

His gaze swept rapidly across the paper, and the purchasing manager's pupils suddenly contracted, as if he had seen some terrifying scene.

"This...this is suicide! How could the company president sign something like this?"

His voice was dry and filled with disbelief.

The executive officer, seated at the head of the table, did not answer immediately. He slowly removed his glasses, took out a piece of deerskin cloth from his suit pocket, and gently wiped the fog off the lenses.

"This is life-saving medicine." The executive director's voice was icy. "Just ten minutes ago, at the Akasaka ryotei (traditional Japanese restaurant), President Nakauchi's personal seal was already affixed."

"Help? This is poison!"

The purchasing manager jumped to his feet, his chair scraping against the floor with a piercing screeching sound. He waved the fax paper in his hand, his fingers digging into Clause 4.

"'Fully integrating with S-Food's supply chain and gradually shutting down Lawson's own Saitama distribution center'... Executive Director, do you understand what this means?"

He looked around at his silent colleagues, his voice trembling with fear.

"The fresh food in our convenience stores is our heart. If we dismantle our own factories, lay off our contracted farmers, and hand this heart over to the Saionji family... what if they cut off our supply one day? What if they suddenly raise prices next year?"

"We don't even have any bargaining chips! Because we've already crippled ourselves, there's no going back! What will Rosen sell then? Air?"

A deathly silence fell over the meeting room. Everyone understood this principle: distribution channels are king. Whoever controls the supply controls the pricing power. Giving up the supply is like putting your neck in someone else's noose.

"And this too! 'Data sharing protocol'!"

The purchasing manager pointed almost hysterically to another page.

"We're going to install that black box system developed by Shimomura Tsutomu? That way, the Saionji family will know better than us what to sell tomorrow. We'll no longer be the business owners; we'll just be puppets standing at their counters!"

"Bang!"

A loud bang.

The executive slammed his hand on the table, causing the coffee cup next to him to jump and splash black liquid onto the snow-white documents.

"Shut up!"

The executive stood up, casting a long shadow on the wall behind him.

He pulled another fax sheet from his briefcase—a copy of a bank draft—and slammed it hard into the purchasing manager's face.

"You know it's poison? But do you know how thirsty the Da Rong Group is right now?"

Paper scraps drifted down.

The long string of zeros above looked particularly menacing under the fluorescent lights.

One billion yen.

"This is just an advance payment. There are still three months until the payment is due."

The executive officer's voice was low, carrying a hint of desperate clarity.

"If we don't pay for the goods for three months, it means that Lawson will suddenly have billions of dollars in cash flow. This money will be immediately withdrawn by Darong Group to fill the hole in the real estate business."

He walked up to the purchasing manager and stared intently into his eyes.

"Don't you understand? Once we get used to this 'blood' provided by the Saionji family to sustain our lives, we can never quit."

"If we want to rebuild the supply chain, it will require tens of billions. If we want to break off the partnership, Saionji can simply demand payment immediately, and Lawson's cash flow will break on the spot."

The purchasing manager looked at the check, his throat felt like it was blocked, and his raised hand fell limply to his side.

He finally understood.

This is not a collaboration. This is a merger and acquisition.

Although the Saionji family did not take a single share of Lawson stock, they have completely undermined the company by controlling the supply of goods (stomach), monopolizing data (brain), and hijacking cash flow (blood).

"With this money, we can survive."

The executive officer leaned forward, his body resting on the table, his gaze sweeping across the room, his tone revealing a melancholic pragmatism.

"We can take over more street corners and open more new stores. We can even pull that damn 7-Eleven down from its pedestal... although, not with our own bullets."

He turned around and walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window.

Outside the window, Tokyo Tower shimmered red in the rain and mist. Further away, countless blue and white Lawson signs lit up the streets late at night, like stars scattered across the city.

He looked at the signs, his voice low and complex, almost sighing.

"From today onwards, forget about President Nakauchi's 'distribution philosophy.' As long as the Saionji family continues to sign off on this supply order, we have to listen to them."

In the reflection of the glass window, he saw his own eyes, filled with desire yet also with servility.

"From tonight onwards, this company will no longer belong to Nakauchi or Daiei."

"It's now surnamed Saionji."

……

The next morning, at eight o'clock.

Capital Expressway.

The torrential rain of last night has stopped, but the sky over Tokyo remains overcast, with low-hanging gray-white clouds pressing down on this steel jungle. The roads are still wet, and the puddles make a monotonous "sizzling" sound as they are crushed by car wheels.

A black Nissan Presidential Sedan merged into the morning rush hour traffic.

In the back seat, Satsuki held a cup of hot black tea in her hand, her gaze fixed on the in-car TV behind the front seat.

Although the screen is only five inches and the picture flickers with the signal, the live broadcast of the morning financial news is still clearly visible.

"...Breaking news from this station: Lawson, a convenience store chain under the Daiei Group, issued a joint announcement early this morning, announcing a strategic partnership with S-Food, a subsidiary of Saionji Industrial..."

The scene changes. Zhong Neigong's extremely aggressive face appears on the screen; even in a static news photo, the ambition in his eyes is evident.

The announcer's voice continued to come through:

"Following this significant positive news, shares of Daiei Group and Saionji-related companies performed actively in pre-market trading. Analysts believe this is a milestone in the integration of the Japanese retail industry's supply chain..."

"Smack."

Satsuki pressed the remote control.

The screen went black instantly, revealing only her calm, somewhat indifferent face.

"It seems the market really likes this story."

She put down the remote control and turned her head to look at the fleeting street scene outside the window.

Fujita, sitting in the front, glanced at the rearview mirror and said in a low voice:

"Miss, now FamilyMart and Lawson have both been acquired. In the entire Kanto region, only 7-Eleven is still holding on."

As the car emerged from the tunnel, the light flickered inside.

"Mr. Toshifumi Suzuki... will he back down?"

Satsuki turned to look out the window.

Rainwater left streaks on the glass.

This city is weeping.

He had no choice.

Satsuki said softly, her fingers unconsciously sliding across the fogged car window.

In fact, in this huge game that covers the entire Tokyo convenience store industry, the only person truly standing behind her from beginning to end is that arrogant "Emperor Seibu".

FamilyMart believed she had Lawson's backing, while Lawson believed she had the full support of the Seibu Distribution Group.

She only had this one thread called "Tsutsumi Yoshiaki" in her hand, yet she used the information vacuum caused by the distrust between these giants to weave an impenetrable giant net in the void.

Now, the network is complete.

"When the air becomes thin, even a god will kneel down from suffocation."

She reached out and drew a circle on the fogged-up car window.

That circle perfectly encompassed the direction of Chiyoda Ward in the distance.

That's where 7-Eleven's headquarters are located.

"Fujita."

"exist."

"It's time to close the net."

The car entered the tunnel.

The dim yellow light flashed across the car roof, and in the interplay of light and shadow, it reflected the cold yet joyful curve of the girl's lips.

Having eaten its fill, the spider silently slithered toward its last prey.