wavenovel Chapter 46 The Okura Family's Last Straw
Chapter 46 The Okura Family's Last Straw
In June 1987, Tokyo entered the rainy season.
The rain wasn't a torrential downpour, but rather a thick, endless drizzle, enveloping the entire Ginza in a damp atmosphere.
3 PM. Intersection of Ginza 4-chome.
This is the most expensive place in all of Japan. A plot of land the size of a postcard is worth over 300,000 yen.
In the windows of Mitsukoshi and Wako department stores, the golden lights still shone brightly, showcasing the latest summer styles flown in from Paris. Pedestrians wearing designer raincoats and carrying expensive long-handled umbrellas strolled lightly between the shopping malls and upscale cafes.
However, two figures stood out from the crowd at the entrance of the Sumitomo Bank Ginza branch.
"Let me in! I'm Okura! I'm your VIP customer!"
Masao Okura clutched a cheap, transparent plastic umbrella, one of its ribs broken, drooping limply to one side. His voice was hoarse, carrying a sense of despair born of desperation.
The real estate tycoon who used to always wear bespoke Italian suits and have his hair neatly combed now looks like a stray dog that has fallen into the water.
His suit was soaked through; it was an old model from last year, with frayed cuffs. His tie was askew, stained a deep purple by the rain.
"Excuse me, sir."
The bank security guard standing at the door, wearing white gloves, stretched out his arm expressionlessly, like an iron gate.
"The branch manager is in a meeting and cannot see guests without an appointment."
"A meeting? He's clearly avoiding me!"
Masao Okura reached out to push the heavy glass revolving door.
"I want to see Yamashita! What did that bastard say when he begged me for a loan? He said if I bought land in Chiba, he'd give me any loan amount I wanted! Now that the project has just stopped, he's frozen my account? I want him out!"
"Please have some self-respect."
The guard frowned, increased the pressure on his hand, and shoved Okura Masao so hard that he stumbled.
"If you cause any more trouble, I'll call the police."
Masao Okura slipped and almost fell on the wet marble steps.
"dad!"
Masami Okura, who had been standing nearby, rushed over and helped her father up.
She was wearing a beige suit today, a Chanel spring collection from last year. This outfit used to be something she could show off at school, but now, the hem was splattered with mud, and her shoulders were soaked through with rain.
Her hair was plastered messily to her face, her exquisite makeup was ruined by the rain, and her mascara ran down her cheeks, leaving two black tear streaks on her pale face.
"Don't beg them anymore... Dad, let's go..."
Yamei's voice was choked with sobs, and her body trembled in the wind.
"Go? Where to?"
Masao Okura shook off his daughter's hand, his eyes red.
"The house is sealed off, and the car has been towed away. If we don't get the unfreezing order today, we won't even be able to pay your tuition at Sheng Hua!"
He turned around and stared intently at the bank's tightly closed door.
Through the glass, you can see the warm lights in the lobby and the people queuing at the counter. They hold their passbooks and their faces are filled with hope for the future.
Just a door away.
Inside is heaven, outside is hell.
Just then.
The garage door on the side of the bank slowly rose.
A black Toyota Crown sedan drove out.
Masao Okura's eyes lit up instantly, like a drowning person grasping at a straw.
He recognized the car. It was the branch manager's official car from the foot of the mountain.
"Yamashita! Yamashita-kun!"
Masao Okura threw away his umbrella and rushed into the rain like a madman. Ignoring the puddles on the ground, he spread his arms and tried to stop the car.
"squeak--"
The driver slammed on the brakes.
The car stopped for a moment.
The rear window was rolled down a crack.
Masao Okura lunged forward, pounding on the glass with both hands, his fingernails scraping against it with a teeth-grinding sound.
"Yamashita-kun! Please! Give me another month! Just one month! I've already found a buyer! That piece of land in Chiba will definitely sell..."
A pair of indifferent eyes were visible through the car window.
That's the branch manager at the foot of the mountain.
Six months ago, in a high-end club in Ginza, he put his arm around Okura's shoulder and called him "Big Brother," confidently stating that Okura Real Estate was the bank's best partner.
Now, looking out the window at the old man, soaking wet and with a ferocious expression, he felt only disgust.
It's like watching a fly stuck on a windowpane.
"Okura-san".
Through the glass, the sounds from down the mountain sounded muffled and distant.
"The head office has already issued an enforcement order. There's nothing I can do."
"Don't come again. It looks terrible."
After saying that, he pressed the window up button.
The glass rose mercilessly, silencing the last sound.
"drive."
The driver stepped on the gas.
The Crown's engine roared, its tires kicking up a puddle of muddy water that splashed all over Masao Okura.
"Don't go! Down the mountain! You liar!!"
Masao Okura is still pursuing it.
He staggered a couple of steps, his leather shoes sinking into a deep puddle.
Sudden.
He stopped in his tracks.
The hand that had been waving as if trying to grab something suddenly clutched its left side against its chest.
His face instantly went from flushed to ashen, his lips turned purple, his eyes bulged, and a hoarse sound like a broken bellows came from his throat.
The intense pain felt like an invisible hand, instantly crushing his heart.
"Well……"
Masao Okura's knees buckled, and he fell straight forward.
"Thump."
He fell heavily into the puddle on the sidewalk, splashing water everywhere.
"dad!!!"
Yamei let out a piercing scream.
She threw away her umbrella, knelt down in the mud, and desperately tried to help her father up.
"Daddy! What's wrong? Don't scare me! Daddy, wake up!"
Masao Okura's eyes rolled back, his body convulsed violently, and his hands gripped his shirt tightly, tearing the buttons off the soaked fabric.
"Help! Someone please help me! Help!"
Yamei raised her head and cried out to the surroundings.
This is during the busy afternoon hours.
People come and go on the streets of Ginza.
A man in a trench coat walked by. He glanced at the large warehouse on the ground, paused for a moment, but then quickened his pace, as if afraid of being tainted by some bad luck.
Two young white-collar workers who were waiting at the traffic light turned their heads.
"Oh no, someone's fallen."
"Are you drunk?"
"Mind your own business. Look at that big screen over there, the Nikkei index has risen another fifty points!"
"Really? My stocks have made a killing!"
They excitedly pointed at the electronic display screen on the department store, discussing the trend of the candlestick chart, completely ignoring the life struggling to survive at their feet.
In this crazy bubble era.
All compassion has been diluted by money.
People only care about the rising numbers, not the people falling.
Yami stared in despair at those indifferent figures. Rain mixed with tears, blurring her vision.
She finally understood.
In this city, without money, even dying on the roadside is just an eyesore of trash.
……
St. Luke's International Hospital.
Even during the day, the corridors here are lit by stark white fluorescent lights, and the air is filled with the smell of disinfectant and alcohol.
The red light was on in the emergency operating room.
"Ms. Okura Masami, is that right?"
The head nurse held a stack of receipts in her hand, her tone curt.
"The patient's condition is critical; it's an acute myocardial infarction, and they need immediate bypass surgery. Also, please pay the previous emergency room and examination fees first."
"The total is... 1.5 million yen."
Yamei sat on the cold bench, soaking wet, looking like a drowned rat.
She was clutching several bank cards tightly in her hand.
That's what she tried at the payment window just now.
Every single one.
Each ticket handed in was returned by the expressionless cashier a few seconds later.
"Sorry, this card has been frozen."
"This one too."
"Insufficient balance".
These gold and platinum cards were once symbols of her status, allowing her to spend lavishly in shopping malls.
Now, they are just a pile of useless plastic sheets.
"I...I don't have that much cash right now..."
Yamei raised her head, her eyes swollen like peaches, her voice trembling.
"Can we have the surgery first? I'll definitely find a way... Please..."
"I'm sorry," the head nurse said, her expression unwavering. "This is hospital policy. Without a deposit, the surgery cannot be scheduled. Please contact your family or raise the money as soon as possible."
After saying that, the head nurse turned and left, leaving behind a trail of cold footsteps.
Yamei slumped in the chair.
Raising money?
Who should we ask for the money?
Her relatives had long since distanced themselves, fearing they would be implicated in the Okura family's debts. As for her "friends" at school, she couldn't even get through on the phone since dropping out.
She went through her entire contact list.
Finally, her finger stopped on a name.
Saionji Temple...
"bite--"
The elevator doors opened.
A man wearing a dark gray suit and carrying a briefcase came out.
He wore silver-rimmed glasses, and his leather shoes made a crisp sound on the floor. He glanced around the chaotic emergency room and his gaze precisely locked onto Yami in the corner.
Lawyer Sasaki.
Chief legal counsel for Saionji Corporation.
He walked straight up to Yamei, but instead of sitting down, he looked down at the disheveled girl.
"Ms. Okura."
Sasaki's voice was calm, devoid of any emotion.
"I heard your father is seriously ill and needs money urgently?"
Yamei looked up at the man who had suddenly appeared. She wasn't stupid; she knew this was definitely not a coincidence.
"Are you... here to see a joke?"
Yamei bit her lip and tasted a rusty, bloody flavor.
"No."
Sasaki took a document out of his briefcase.
"I'm here to do business."
He sat down in the empty seat next to Yami and opened the file.
"Although Okura Realty has gone bankrupt, you still have one last asset: that three-story building on the edge of Shinjuku's Kabukicho district, and the land beneath it."
That was the first piece of land that Masao Okura owned when he made his fortune, and it was also his "ancestral property" that he was always reluctant to sell.
"The market price is 500 million yen." Yami looked at him warily. "You want to buy it?"
"That was the market price back then."
Sasaki pushed up his glasses.
"The Okura family's assets have all been seized by the court. Although this land is still under your name, it will soon be put up for auction. Whether it can be sold and for how much will depend on the bank's decision."
He took a check out of his jacket pocket.
"My client is willing to invest in the acquisition now."
"cash."
Yamei looked at the check.
The number above is not 500 million.
It's not even 100 million.
1,000,000 yen.
Fifty million.
One fold.
"This...this is robbery!" Yami jumped up, her voice shrill. "That piece of land is right next to Shinjuku Station! Even if the market isn't good right now, it can't be worth only fifty million!"
"It was indeed a robbery."
Sasaki did not deny it; he even nodded slightly.
"But this is a robbery that could save lives."
He pointed to the closed doors of the operating room.
"The surgery cost 1.5 million. Post-operative ICU stay is 100,000 per day. Add to that your father's long-term recovery needs, and..."
Sasaki looked Masami up and down, scrutinizing her dirty designer suit.
"And Ms. Okura's future living expenses."
"Fifty million is enough for you and your daughter to eke out a living in this city."
"If you don't sign."
Sasaki made a move to take back the check.
"Then you'll have to wait for the court to auction it off. The process will take about three months. I think your father's heart might not be able to wait that long."
Yamei's body swayed.
Three months.
Let alone three months, I can't even wait thirty minutes.
She turned her head and looked at the red light above the operating room door. The red light seemed to be counting down, tick-tock, tick-tock.
That was my father's fate.
"Your client..."
Yami turned her head and stared intently at Sasaki.
"It's Saionji Satsuki, right?"
Sasaki did not answer, but simply handed over a pen.
"Sign it, Ms. Okura."
"In this world, some things are not negotiable. Like life."
Yamei took the pen with trembling hands.
The penholder was very cold, like a piece of ice.
She stared at the contract. It was a contract that sold off the Ōkura family's last shred of dignity and their last hope of turning things around for scrap metal prices.
Her hands were shaking.
Large tears fell onto the paper, blurring the black ink.
"I hate her."
Yamei gritted her teeth and forced out a sound from deep in her throat.
Tell Saionji Satsuki that I hate her.
"I will pass it on," Sasaki said expressionlessly.
Yami closed her eyes.
The pen tip glides across the paper.
"Shh shh shh".
The name is signed.
Sasaki quickly took the contract, and after confirming that everything was correct, placed the check for fifty million yen in Aya's hand.
"Deal reached."
He stood up and straightened his suit, which was free of wrinkles.
"Also, my client asked me to pass on a message to you."
Sasaki looked at this once arrogant young lady who had now fallen from grace.
She said: "Hate is a very useful force. Keep it. Maybe one day, this hatred will help you climb back up."
"But let's go pay the bill first."
Sasaki turned and left.
The sound of leather shoes faded into the distance and disappeared at the elevator entrance.
Yami stood alone in the corridor.
He held the thin check in his hand.
It was a piece of paper.
It was as heavy as a mountain.
Five hundred million became fifty million.
This is the price of being a loser.
She turned around and dragged her heavy steps toward the payment window. With each step, she left a wet footprint on the ground.
Outside the window, the rain is still falling.
The torrential rain washed over Tokyo, cleansing away all the filth and bloodstains, and also silencing all the cries.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, in that warm pink building, Saionji Satsuki might be sipping red tea, watching the rain outside the window, and calculating how many billions she could mortgage for the land she bought for fifty million tomorrow.
This was 1987.
In this crazy age, people eat people without spitting out the bones.