Chapter 68: The Unrestrained Watanabe and the Sakai Father and Son

Ginza, Tokyo’s premier commercial heart, became all the more enchanting after nightfall, its dazzling lights casting a bewitching glow. Neon signs along the streets shifted colors incessantly, their hues reflecting off the slick pavement in a kaleidoscopic swirl that mingled with the passing crowds.

By late May, Tokyo was already growing warm.

The legs of women, sheathed in black or flesh-toned stockings beneath short skirts, created a stunning nocturnal panorama unique to Ginza.

A Corolla pulled up outside the House Bar.

The rear door opened, and Hideyuki Aoyama stepped out, dressed in a silver-grey suit. His companion, Shinichi Nakamura, drove off to park the car.

Entering the bar, Aoyama threaded through the boisterous throng to a private room and pushed open the door, his face instantly lighting up with a broad smile. “Hahaha, Watanabe, sorry to keep you waiting.”

Inside, Osamu Watanabe lounged in a white shirt, arms wrapped around two women, laughing licentiously as his hands wandered freely. Upon seeing Aoyama, he didn’t bother to get up, instead burying his face into one woman’s chest, wearing an expression of utter intoxication.

Four more women hovered around, vying for his favor.

“Ah!” Watanabe closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, then raised his head, grinning slyly at Aoyama. “Aoyama, this girl’s got the biggest rack—come, you have to try for yourself.”

“You’re the guest of honor tonight. How could I snatch away your pleasures?” Aoyama shook his head, casually slipped off his jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and took a seat.

Instantly, two women left Watanabe’s circle and sat on either side of Aoyama, one pouring him a drink, the other offering fruit.

Leaning back, Aoyama slipped his arms around the waists of both women, letting them tend to him. “If Watanabe likes her, take her with you later. Tonight, let’s have a good chat about life.”

He glanced at the woman in Watanabe’s arms. Her looks were average, but her figure was impressive—at least an E cup.

“I think this woman is probably involved in criminal activity. I’ll have to work overtime tonight and bring her in for questioning,” Watanabe replied, showing no restraint.

Aoyama chuckled as well, taking a glass from one of the women. “Watanabe, your dedication is truly a blessing for our nation. I admire you.”

With that, he downed the drink in one gulp.

“Of course, of course. We’re paid by the taxpayers. It’s our duty to work hard and toil away!” Watanabe declared, then abruptly tore off the woman’s skirt. As she cried out in protest, he stripped her bare. “Beautiful things shouldn’t be hidden—they should be admired by all.”

Aoyama thought the man was truly indecent.

But at least Watanabe knew his limits and refrained from going any further in front of him.

Watching Watanabe, blindfolded with the woman’s lingerie, playing a game of butterfly-catching in the middle of the room, Aoyama wished all Japanese officials were like him.

Then he could rest easy.

Unlike that meddlesome Hattori.

“Aoyama, from now on, we’re brothers. Come, a toast to you.”

“This’ll be my last one, Watanabe. I still have someone to meet tonight.”

At eleven, the two parted ways.

Watanabe, tipsy and laughing, had his arm around the ample-chested woman as they walked toward the parking lot. His confidant, acting as his driver, hurried over to help.

“Back off, I’m not… not drunk,” Watanabe slurred, shaking off his confidant’s hand and blinking drowsily. “How… how much?”

“One hundred million in financial bonds,” the confidant whispered, glancing at the woman in his arms.

These bonds had just been delivered to Watanabe’s car by Shinichi Nakamura, on Aoyama’s orders.

Upon hearing this, Watanabe grew even more excited.

Aoyama was a man worth dealing with—generous to a fault!

—

Elsewhere, after seeing Watanabe off, Hideyuki Aoyama exhaled and returned to the bar.

This time, he entered a different private room.

Inside, two men and a woman immediately stood up. The woman was Irina Nohara; the two men, one in his fifties, the other in his thirties.

“Mr. Aoyama,” Irina Nohara hurried over, noticing he’d had quite a bit to drink, and helped him to the sofa, pouring him a glass of water.

The two men remained bowing.

Aoyama gulped down half the water, waved Irina aside, and focused on the men. “Are these the ones?”

The men bowed even lower.

“Yes, sir!” Irina replied, then gestured to the older man. “This is President Sakai. His company is on the verge of bankruptcy due to the poor economy, but he has both staff and production lines ready. Their price is also the lowest.”

“Mr. Aoyama, please, I beg you—give me this chance to cooperate with you. Otherwise, my company will have no choice but to close down. I implore you!” President Sakai knelt, performing a formal bow.

Clearly, he saw this partnership with Nohara Financial as his company’s sole hope and cherished the opportunity.

“And him?” Aoyama ignored the bow and pointed to the younger man.

Irina explained, “He’s President Sakai’s son, technical director at Sakai Electronics. He graduated from the University of Tokyo’s Department of Electronic Engineering and has many insights regarding the loan machines.”

“Yes, sir!” Young Sakai immediately knelt beside his father, prostrating himself. “I can design and manufacture the automatic loan machines you want at the lowest cost. Please, sir, save our company!”

“Well, if that’s the case, Sakai, we’re alumni. I graduated from the University of Tokyo’s Law Faculty.” Aoyama’s attitude softened, giving young Sakai more credit. “Both of you, please stand.”

The Sakais hesitated before rising.

“President Sakai, your company is on the brink of bankruptcy. Do you still have the funds to start production?” Aoyama asked.

“Uh…” President Sakai looked troubled.

His son replied, “That’s why we hope you can pay part of the amount upfront, Mr. Aoyama.”

He hung his head, ashamed, knowing the request was excessive since they hadn’t even produced a prototype.

“For the sake of our shared alma mater, I’ll give you a chance,” Aoyama said, pretending to consider it for a moment before continuing, “I can give you an advance. Make a prototype first. If it’s up to standard, not only will I pay a portion in advance, I’ll also invest in Sakai Electronics. That way, you’ll have enough capital to restart your production lines. If the prototype fails, consider the money a gift.”

He believed the prototype would succeed; this was the Sakai family’s only hope, and they’d pour their hearts into it.

“Thank you, Mr. Aoyama! Thank you, President Nohara!” The Sakais were nearly moved to tears and bowed deeply once more.

Aoyama stood and personally helped them up, saying sincerely, “I look forward to a long-term partnership. I know you’re eager to go home and discuss, so I won’t keep you.”

“Yes, sir!”

After another bow, the Sakais took their leave.

“Madam, you chose well,” Aoyama said as he sat beside Irina Nohara, pulling her curvaceous figure into his arms.

Irina’s heart swelled with joy, though she replied modestly, “It was only a matter of luck.”

“We should find a starlet as a spokesperson. Once production starts, we’ll need a commercial so the public knows how easy it is to get a loan,” Aoyama said with a smile.

“Yes, sir!” Irina answered obediently.

Aoyama lowered his head, gazing at her lovely face just inches away. “You’ve handled everything so beautifully, Madam Nohara. Tell me—how should I reward you?”

—

Irina Nohara wore an ivory suit jacket over a white shirt, the neckline daringly open. Her white wide-legged pants hugged her hips, the hem riding up as she sat, revealing nylon-clad ankles—stockings hidden beneath her trousers, all the more alluring.

Seeing the teasing look in Aoyama’s eyes, Irina blushed, lifting her gaze with sultry eyes while biting her lip repeatedly.

She was already restless, her thoughts in disarray.

“Come on, tell me,” Aoyama prompted with a wicked grin.

“I want to…” Irina buried her face in his chest, too shy to finish.

Nohara Financial was about to pay Sakai Electronics to produce the loan machines, which would soon strain their funds. Anticipating this, Aoyama injected hundreds of millions in liquidity as her reward.

Irina was deeply grateful, overjoyed to the point of being nearly overwhelmed—even washing her face became difficult.

—

Meanwhile, in an izakaya, Heiji Kaneshiro was drowning his sorrows. His tie was askew, and between gulps of liquor, he cursed bitterly.

“That Hideyuki Aoyama is nothing but lucky—he only got in with Aya Asai. When it comes to ability, how is he better than me? Why should I be beneath him?”

“Enough, enough. What good does complaining do now?” his friend and colleague, Masahiro Takizawa, snatched his glass away, trying to console him. “The wheel turns—thirty years up, thirty years down. Don’t let yourself get dragged under.”

“Masahiro, I’m so wronged!” Kaneshiro wailed, clutching Takizawa and sobbing. “Everyone in our division—no, the entire department—thought I’d be promoted chief. I even booked the restaurant for the celebration. Who’d have guessed, not only did I lose the chief’s seat, but not even deputy chief! I’m a laughingstock!”

Thus, he hated both Aya Asai and Hideyuki Aoyama.

But it was impossible to take revenge on Asai, so he simply heaped all his resentment onto Aoyama.

“Everyone respects and trusts you, Heiji. When Aoyama takes office, make sure you put him in his place!” Takizawa suggested.

Kaneshiro slammed his glass onto the table. “Right!”

Time passed quickly, and May 25 arrived.

Today was the day Hideyuki Aoyama was to report to the Metropolitan Police Department. He woke up early, got ready, and went downstairs for breakfast, wearing the outfit his sister-in-law had prepared.

“Our Hideyuki really does look handsome in this tie,” said Haruko Aoyama, her eyes shining.

“That’s thanks to your taste, sister-in-law,” Hideyuki replied, fingering the new tie she’d given him, then looking at the table. “Wow, such a lavish breakfast?”

“Of course—it’s your first day back at the Metropolitan Police Department. We can’t be careless.” Haruko’s face was earnest as she ushered him to the table. “Sit down quickly before it gets cold.”

“Then, let’s start.”

“Wait, wait, let’s toast with milk first—to celebrate,” Haruko said, raising her glass.

Hideyuki raised his as well. “Alright.”

“Cheers! Wishing you success at work!”

Haruko’s smile was radiant, her lips curving as she drank. A few drops of milk slid down her lips.

At that moment, Hideyuki’s self-control was tested to its limits.

He hurried through breakfast and left in a rush.