wavenovel Chapter 249 The Victory of Reform
Chapter 249 The Victory of Reform
Late April.
The sky over Tokyo cleared up after days of gloom.
The bright spring sunlight poured down on the gray-white buildings of Nagatacho. The dazzling sunlight shone on the huge domed glass of the House of Representatives building, refracting a dazzling white halo.
In the VIP lounge at the rear of the council chamber, the slats of the blinds were adjusted to a very small tilt angle.
Ichiro Osawa stood next to the leather sofa.
His eyes were bloodshot and extremely prominent. He had heavy eye bags, and a layer of bluish-black stubble had sprouted on his chin. His expensive custom-made suit jacket even still had a strong smell of stale cigars and lingering sweat.
To ensure the success of today's vote, he has been working late into the night for four consecutive nights at the faction headquarters to finalize the division of interests and coordinate the votes.
Toshiki Kaifu, dressed in a dark black suit, stood quietly opposite Ichiro Osawa.
His hands hung naturally at his sides, his gaze slightly lowered as he looked at the pattern on the carpet.
Ichiro Osawa took a deep breath, stretched out his thick right hand, and patted Toshiki Kaifu heavily on the shoulder.
"Smack."
His fingers tightened on the fabric of Kaibu's suit, the weight of his hand pressing down on Kaibu's shoulder slightly.
"Kaibu-kun."
Ichiro Osawa lowered his voice, his tone revealing a forced gentleness.
"The insults outside will be very unpleasant later. Some of them will even be quite offensive."
Osawa stared at Kaibu's expressionless face and brought his lips closer.
"But as long as you withstand the pressure today, stand up, and read that draft word for word, you can weather this storm..."
"I've already arranged your escape route. I've reserved the position of senior advisor to the Japan-U.S. Friendship Committee for you. I guarantee you'll continue to enjoy top-tier political treatment for the rest of your life."
Toshiki Kaifu's eyelids were slightly lowered.
He didn't raise his head to meet Daze's gaze, nor did he make any move to refute it.
"Yes."
Haibu's voice was calm and dry, as if he had completely resigned himself to his fate.
Looking at Kaifu's submissive posture, Osawa Ichiro's tense jawline finally relaxed slightly. He released his grip and patted Kaifu's neatly trimmed suit shoulder twice, as if soothing an obedient hunting dog.
"Go."
The heavy wooden door to the lounge was pulled open from the outside by staff.
A deafening roar instantly surged in from the end of the corridor.
Toshiki Kaifu strode forward, his leather shoes clicking on the thick carpet of the corridor.
He walked through the long corridor and pushed open the entrance door on the side of the council chamber.
The blinding spotlight shone instantly on Kaibu's face.
Inside the spacious House chamber, the stifling air felt like it could set people ablaze. The exhaust system was running at full capacity, yet it still couldn't absorb the immense body heat emanating from the more than five hundred adult men in their extreme excitement and anger.
As soon as Kaibu appeared at the edge of the steps, the already noisy meeting room below erupted into chaos.
"Get out! You traitor to this country!"
"You've ruined the livelihoods of merchants and artisans! You cabinet lackey!"
"Resign! Resign immediately!"
Conservative lawmakers seated on the left and in the back rows, along with businessmen representing the interests of local small and medium-sized retailers, rose from their wooden seats, their eyes bloodshot. They waved their arms, pointing and hurling insults in the direction of Haibu. A torrent of highly offensive language echoed beneath the massive dome of the council chamber.
Toshiki Kaifu continued walking without stopping.
He climbed the steps and walked step by step toward the prime minister's podium located in the very center.
A heavy, crumpled document flew out from the side seat and soared through the air.
"Bang."
The crumpled paper hit Kaibu hard on the left shoulder, then bounced to the ground and scattered into several sheets of white paper printed with protest clauses. Immediately afterwards, more crumpled paper, and even broken pencils, flew towards the podium like raindrops.
The speaker stood on the high platform, sweating profusely as he frantically pounded the solid wooden gavel.
"Silence! Please maintain order in the venue! TV! Maintain order!" (Note: Some readers thought the word "TV" was misspelled earlier, but it is not. Here, "TV" specifically refers to the staff responsible for maintaining order, security, and reception within the Japanese Diet (House of Representatives and House of Councillors), not some kind of broadcasting service in the common sense.)
The sharp sound of the mallet echoed through the loudspeaker, but it couldn't drown out the roar below that was threatening to lift the roof off.
Toshiki Kaifu walked to the microphone.
He stretched out his hands and placed the "Speech Proposal for the Repeal of the Big Store Law" flat on the wooden podium.
Another crumpled piece of paper hit his chest.
Kaibu didn't even blink.
His fingers rested steadily on the edges of the podium, his breathing remained at a remarkably constant pace, and his gaze pierced through the blinding spotlight as he calmly observed the members of parliament below, their faces contorted with extreme anger.
"Fellow members of parliament."
Toshiki Kaifu leaned closer to the microphone.
"Faced with the sweeping trend of international free trade, my country's outdated distribution system has become a heavy shackle hindering the vitality of the macroeconomy."
An even louder chorus of boos erupted from below.
Ignoring all the noise, Kaibu's gaze fell on the first line of his speech.
"After careful consideration, the Cabinet has formally submitted a draft bill to Parliament to completely repeal and amend the Large Retail Stores Land Act."
Ichiro Osawa sat in the secretary-general's seat in the back row.
He leaned forward dramatically, his back completely off the comfortable leather chair, his eyes fixed on Toshiki Kaifu on the podium in front of him.
Okay, keep reading like that. Don't stop.
If Kaibu turns against him at this crucial moment, all of his subsequent plans will fall through.
A layer of oily sweat seeped from Osawa Ichiro's forehead.
But he didn't dare to wipe it.
His domestic base has been wiped out by the Ministry of Finance's withdrawal of loans. His only remaining leverage is the political endorsement from Washington. If this bill fails today, he will be torn to shreds by all of Japan's old zaibatsu tomorrow.
Hirano stood in the shadows behind and to the side of Ichiro Osawa.
He dared not look at Kaibu on the platform, nor at Osawa in front of him.
The Saionji family... should have arrived by now, right?
His gaze, uncontrollably and nervously, frequently drifted toward the huge circular clock on the side wall of the council chamber.
The black second hand on the white dial ticked forward, one tick at a time.
"Click."
"Click."
……
At the same time.
Minato Ward, Tokyo.
The bright spring sunshine poured down on the quiet slope of this upscale residential area.
Ichiro Osawa's private residence is a spacious two-story house in a traditional and Western eclectic style. Ivy climbs the surrounding walls.
As the residence of the ruling party's secretary-general, the physical security system here should be extremely robust. On weekdays, in addition to the alarm lines on the ground floor connecting to the Metropolitan Police Department, four certified professional security personnel are stationed in the courtyard and surrounding areas, patrolling in two shifts around the clock.
But today, this human defense network has been dismantled from within.
As Osawa's most trusted chief secretary, Hirano had the authority to deploy all security forces around the secretary-general. This morning, citing the "surge in protesters at the Diet building and the urgent need to strengthen the secretary-general's evacuation security," he reassigned all four security personnel to the underground parking garage of the House of Representatives in Nagata-cho to stand by.
The only middle-aged part-time worker who remained was granted paid leave ahead of schedule under the pretext of "complete overhaul of the main water pipes in the residence".
This coincides with Ichiro Osawa's personal appearance on a national television broadcast at the Diet.
The Saionji family successfully obtained a perfect window of opportunity for infiltration: the mansion was completely empty, and no one would turn back midway.
At this moment, there is no living person inside the mansion except for an electronic defense system.
A white light van with the words "Tokyo Metropolitan Water Supply Inspection" printed on it was parked at the alley entrance next to the small villa.
The car door opened.
Dojima Iwao got out of the driver's seat.
He was wearing an unremarkable light gray jumpsuit, a work cap pulled low over his head, and an old canvas tool bag slung over his shoulder.
He walked alone to the small cast-iron door on the side of the private house.
He glanced around at the empty streets. Dojima Iwao pulled a brass key from his work clothes pocket. It was a replica that Hirano had made overnight in his office yesterday after using ink to make a mold of Osawa's spare key.
Insert the key into the lock.
"Click".
The lock spring smoothly opened.
Dojima Yan pushed open the iron gate and closed it behind him.
Several precious Podocarpus macrophyllus trees were planted in the courtyard. Although they were not large, the dry landscape garden and white sand on the ground were meticulously maintained.
He stepped on the edge of the bluestone slab, crossed the courtyard, and walked directly to the equipment wall at the side and rear of the small villa.
A gray, square metal electrical box was hanging on the wall.
Dojima Yan opened his canvas tool bag and took out insulated wire cutters. He pried open the metal casing of the electrical box, his eyes quickly scanning through the dense network of communication cables.
Security systems at politicians' private residences are not as complex as those at bank vaults. Burglar detectors and door/window sensors all converge on a single alarm loop on the ground floor that connects directly to the Metropolitan Police Department.
The blades of the wire cutters precisely gripped one of the copper wires marked in red.
"Click."
A very faint metallic cutting sound rang out.
The physical circuit was cut off. Even if the door was opened later and the magnetic sensor was triggered, the alarm signal would never reach the Metropolitan Police Department terminal two kilometers away.
Dojima Yan put away the wire cutters, walked to the back door's entryway, and opened the wooden door with the same key.
The room was extremely quiet. Tiny dust particles floated in the air.
He put on the shoe covers he had brought and stepped into the corridor.
Dojima Yan walked straight up the solid wood staircase covered with wool carpet to the second floor.
The room at the deepest part of the second floor.
Dojima Iwao walked to the large mahogany desk in the center of the study, took down a huge Japanese landscape oil painting that was hanging on the wall, and placed it on the desk next to him.
Behind the oil painting, a silver-gray heavy machinery safe is embedded inside the wall.
Dojima Ichiro stood still in front of the safe.
He took out a pair of very thin white cotton gloves from his pocket and put them on.
With a slight movement of his wrist, he grasped the cold metal knob and began to turn it to the right.
...
"For large stores with a retail area of more than 500 square meters."
Toshiki Kaifu stood on the podium.
The crumpled papers below continued to fly in, hitting the wooden podium partition with a dull thud.
"The Cabinet proposes to completely abolish the veto power of local chambers of commerce and industry in the approval process, and to centralize the review authority directly to the Ministry of International Trade and Industry."
"That concludes the presentation of this draft."
Kaibu closed the black folder.
He calmly watched the group of red-faced politicians below.
The speaker stood on the high platform and slammed the table heavily with his gavel.
"The presentation is over! Now, let's vote!"
The speaker's voice was amplified throughout the hall.
Ichiro Osawa sat in the back row.
The moment I heard the words "stand up and vote".
Osawa Ichiro slammed his hands on the armrests of the leather seat, using his back muscles to straighten his massive body.
The members of his faction behind him also pushed back their chairs and stood up in unison.
The simultaneous standing of hundreds of people produced a dull screech on the solid wood floor.
Hirano, who was standing to the side and behind Osawa, froze.
He clutched the soaking wet cotton handkerchief in his pocket, his eyes fixed on the watch face on his left wrist.
The second hand ticked at a steady pace.
Tick.
Tick.
Dojima Yan's fingers gripped the metal knob.
Turn left two full circles.
Click.
The micro-vibrations from the meshing of the internal gears are transmitted along the metal panel to the fabric of the pure cotton gloves.
Rotate to the right to mark seven.
Click.
Inside the council chamber, the numbers on the electronic vote counter jumped rapidly.
The green numbers representing the votes in favor ultimately outweighed the red numbers representing the votes against.
The vote is over.
"More than half of the votes are in favor! The draft has passed!"
The speaker announced loudly.
Two extremely explosive sounds erupted instantly inside the council chamber.
The businessman-industrialist representative on the left had bloodshot eyes. Someone slammed a heavy document to the ground, while another kicked over a wooden partition in front of him, pointing at Haibu on the stage and cursing loudly.
"Traitors! You will be punished!"
The members of the Osawa faction raised their arms and slammed them on the table, trying to suppress the insults from the other side with the loud noise they were making.
Paper scraps and broken pencils flew everywhere under the spotlight.
Ichiro Osawa stood in front of his seat, looking at the final number displayed on the vote counter.
He ignored the deafening noise around him that seemed to threaten to lift the dome off the sky. His stiff shoulders slumped, and he exhaled a long breath of stale air that had been building up deep in his chest.
After being on edge for half a month, I can finally relax a little.
He turned his head and looked at his secretary standing to his side and behind him.
He stretched out his thick right hand.
"Hirano. Handkerchief."
Hirano felt a jolt run through his body.
"Ah...yes!"
He abruptly pulled his right hand out of his coat pocket. Struggling to suppress the violent trembling of his wrist, he pulled a pure white handkerchief from another clean pocket.
He handed the handkerchief over with both hands.
Ichiro Osawa took the handkerchief and vigorously wiped away the thick layer of cold sweat from his forehead and temples. He glared at the flustered Hirano.
Honestly, how can you be so unsteady?
...
Dojima Yan's finger rested steadily on the last mark.
Click.
The last digit of the password is engaged.
A metallic click came from inside the safe.
Dojima gripped the handle and exerted force outwards. The heavy metal cabinet door made a dull scraping sound and slowly sprang open.
A ray of sunlight shone into the dark interior of the safe.
He pulled out a thick stack of documents from the innermost layer. At the top of the documents was the elegant English signature of William, the U.S. Economic Minister to Japan. Below the documents were two black miniature communication tapes.
...
Inside the National Assembly building.
The speaker gripped the solid wooden mallet with both hands. Using his waist and back muscles, he swung his arms in a semi-circle in mid-air.
boom!
The solid wooden mallet slammed heavily onto the brass pad. The crisp sound signaled that this bill, which would completely reshape the Japanese retail landscape, had officially taken legal effect.
Toshiki Kaifu picked up the black folder containing his speech notes, turned around, and walked off the prime minister's podium.
Amidst the throng of people, Ichiro Osawa strode forward. He extended his right hand and grabbed Toshiki Kaifu's right hand, giving it a firm squeeze.
"Thank you for your hard work, Kaibu-kun."
Osawa Ichiro wore an extremely satisfied smile and spoke in a very low voice that only the two of them could hear.
"Your performance today was perfect. I will definitely keep my promise about the backup plan."
Toshiki Kaifu maintained his expressionless face.
He lowered his head slightly, his gaze fixed on their clasped hands, maintaining a submissive posture as if he were being manipulated.
Ichiro Osawa released his grip, turned around, and straightened his suit collar. He strode out of the council chamber.
There were countless media outlets with their long lenses and microphones, waiting for him to announce the victory of the reforms.
Toshiki Kaifu stood still.
The spotlights on both sides of the passageway shone on the passing legislators, casting large shadows on Kaibu's face.
Aside from the members of parliament who wanted to pounce on him and kill him, not many people paid any attention to him as prime minister.
He watched as Ichiro Osawa strode out of the main entrance of the council hall, and countless media flashes lit up instantly outside, turning into a dazzling sea of light.
After confirming that the spirited figure had been completely swallowed by the light.
In the shadows, Kaibu slowly raised his eyelids. A cold glint, as if he were looking at a dead man, flashed deep within his eyes.
...
In the dimly lit study.
Dojima carefully placed the original document bearing the signature of the American minister and the miniature audio tape into a black waterproof sealed bag inside the canvas bag.
He pinched the zipper on the edge of the sealed bag, his gloved fingers sliding hard across it.
"Sizzle—"
...
At the same time, the flashing of the spotlights outside the council chamber reached its peak, illuminating Ichiro Osawa's smiling face as a ghastly white.
In this faint sound, the barriers to distribution that had protected millions of low-level merchants in Japan for decades, along with Ichiro Osawa's brief and illusory political peak, were completely sealed in darkness.