TOIGC 98

Chapter 98 …

Shake Things Up (4)

For the first time in nearly twenty years, Masao heard the sound of his father speaking directly to him.

“You’re claiming you can pull off a deal with U.S. Forces Japan?”

It was purely a business matter, but simply hearing his father address him directly brought tears to Masao’s eyes. Even so, he was far too smart to abruptly change the subject or ruin the moment. He knew better than anyone that doing so would instantly cut the conversation short.

“That’s right. Today, that kid came to see us again. He laid down conditions regarding Genji’s return to Hermès Japan, mentioning that an acquaintance of his is struggling to get a business off the ground here.”

Yasuda listened in absolute silence.

“If we help his associate expand, it seemed likely we could secure not only Genji’s reinstatement with Hermès, but additional leverage as well. That’s why I’ll do whatever it takes to land a weapons deal through a U.S. military broker.”

“How?”

Yasuda was already well aware that Yoongi had ties to former General Gerster. Still, the notion of leveraging that connection to score an illicit weapons deal with U.S. military brokers sounded, at first glance, like a pipe dream. It wasn’t entirely outside the realm of possibility, but it felt remarkably close to searching for a needle in a sandstorm.

“I’ll make it happen and report back to you once it’s done. So please, give me just this one chance.”

To be fair, Masao had zero concrete ideas on how he was actually going to pull it off, but he figured he had to shoot for the moon if he wanted to prove his worth.

“If you fail, not only you, but Genji as well will be dead to me. Are you prepared to gamble your own son’s future?”

Masao hesitated for a brief second before giving a firm nod.

“Given that I’ve already let you down, Genji wouldn’t have much of a future here anyway. So… I’ll put my life on the line to see this through. Please—just this once, trust me. I’m begging you, Father…”

“You do realize how impossibly difficult this is, don’t you?”

“Of course. If I fail, you can have my head.”

For a split second, Yasuda thought about retorting, As if your pathetic head is worth anything…, but he bit his tongue. After all, evaluations were best left for after the job was done. Besides, a tiny, buried fragment of his emotion—dulled with age, yet still tethered to the roles of father and grandfather—was nudged ever so slightly.

If, by some miracle, this fool actually pulls it off…

With escalating turf wars against rival syndicates across neighboring regions, getting his hands on high-grade U.S. military weaponry would be an enormous tactical boon. Keeping his thoughts carefully masked, Yasuda began turning it over in his mind.

“Is there anything you need from my end?”

Hearing that rare note of paternal engagement, Masao broke into a bright, hopeful smile and nodded.

“Once I deliver results, I’d like you to personally assist with the business venture that kid’s associate is running.”

“If you manage to hook a pipeline to U.S. military brokers, we should certainly do that much. We can go beyond a simple favor and consider a much deeper, more permanent alliance.”

Masao instantly sensed that his father’s interest in this venture far exceeded anything he had anticipated.

I have to pull this off, no matter what!

Clenching his fists tight, Masao caught a rare, fleeting look of paternal expectation flickering in Yasuda’s eyes.

“As you can tell from my age, I don’t drink.”

Yoongi politely declined Masao’s offer to pour a drink, casually picking up a slice of raw fish with his chopsticks.

“Ah, my apologies. Please forgive my oversight.”

“Not at all. Cultural differences between Japan and Korea make these kinds of minor mismatches completely natural.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

Seeing Yoongi chew his sashimi with a look of genuine contentment, Masao smiled warmly.

“That’s red seabream, a specialty of the Akaishi region. Today’s meal isn’t prepared by our household staff, but by chefs specially handpicked and brought in from our main estate. I hope you enjoy it.”

“It’s genuinely exceptional.”

Praise from Yoongi was a rare commodity.

Hmm, maybe I should hire a private chef for myself later on down the line.

While his household back home currently relied on a regular housekeeper, the thought of bringing in a professional culinary specialist crossed Yoongi’s mind.

If I hire two or three dedicated chefs for the residence, Grandfather and my parents could enjoy top-tier dining every day.

(What about me?)

Amused by Choi Deok-bae’s internal grumbling, Yoongi let out a soft huff of laughter and picked up another piece of fish.

“Would you mind if we talked business while we eat?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

At Yoongi’s go-ahead, Masao cautiously broached the topic.

“To be frank, I’ve secured my father’s tacit approval regarding the proposal we discussed.”

“I see.”

Yoongi’s unexpectedly lukewarm reaction caught Masao slightly off guard.

“Is something amiss…?”

“Not at all. I just didn’t realize you were finished with your point.”

Yoongi intentionally kept his formidable insight concealed, and because Masao still viewed him as nothing more than a “remarkably bright teenager,” he felt safe diving right into his real agenda.

“Well, actually, there’s more. Committing our family to assisting another party’s business can’t simply be treated as a one-off favor.”

“Are you implying that helping Genji isn’t a big enough deal to warrant a full partnership?”

“No, no! Not at all!”

Masao waved both hands frantically, shaking his head in a panic.

“Then what is it?”

“Suppose Genji successfully returns to modeling for Hermès, and afterward we fail to uphold our end of the bargain—what do you plan to do then?”

“Are you telling me you’re already planning to renege?”

Masao waved his hands again, rushing to clarify.

“That’s not what I mean. Naturally, nothing like that would happen, but we want to ensure we establish a steady, long-term relationship going forward.”

“What kind of relationship are we talking about?”

“Before we get to that, let me put it this way. Even if we agree to back a business, the scale matters immensely, doesn’t it? Helping someone open a neighborhood mom-and-pop convenience store versus opening a massive hypermarket in the heart of Tokyo are two entirely different universes.”

“Hmm… true enough.”

Seeing Yoongi concede the point, Masao felt a surge of optimism and pushed forward with his true demand.

“That’s why I’m emphasizing a lasting partnership. If you agree to what I’m about to propose, our family will throw its absolute, unreserved weight behind your associate’s enterprise.”

“When you say ‘unreserved weight,’ what kind of scale are we talking about?”

“We will back it as if it were our own core syndicate business. If formal guarantees are required, we’re even open to sealing the bond through a marital alliance between our houses.”

While his father hadn’t explicitly authorized that specific leap, Masao calculated the odds and decided to sweeten the pot on his own authority.

“And in return, what do you expect from our side?”

“That would be…”

Masao swallowed hard before speaking.

“Please help us broker a weapons deal with contacts tied to U.S. Forces Japan.”

“Do you really think someone my age has that kind pull?”

Yoongi feigned ignorance, but Masao zeroed in on the reality.

“Based on your ability to deploy U.S. servicemen as a personal security detail, I’ve concluded you possess more than enough influence. The scale of our backing for your associate will scale directly with whether or not that weapons deal goes through.”

“Is that a threat?”

Masao immediately flinched and started waving his hands defensively.

“No! Absolutely not! I only bring it up because if I’m going to ask my father for major resources, I need to bring results of equal magnitude to the table.”

Desperate beyond measure to secure this win, Masao practically looked ready to drop to his knees right there at the table.

“I’m begging you.”

Even in the face of Masao’s desperate plea, Yoongi remained silent. Instead, he picked up a small ceramic tokkuri—a traditional flask used for serving sake—alongside a matching ceramic cup.

(Is he going to pour a drink and give me his answer?)

Contrary to Masao’s assumption, Yoongi wasn’t planning on drinking; he was about to make a point.

“Arranging a weapons deal with U.S. military brokers is, metaphorically speaking, like the sake inside this flask.”

Wondering what on earth Yoongi was getting at, Masao hung on his every word.

“And what the Watanabe family is offering in return amounts to roughly this tiny cup’s worth of effort.”

Without missing a beat, Yoongi tilted the full sake flask directly over the tiny ceramic cup.

“Gah!”

Mitsuko gasped as the sake instantly flooded the tiny cup, spilling over the brim and splashing across the table. Yet Yoongi didn’t stop, casually continuing to pour until the flask ran completely dry, leaving only a puddle of wasted liquor pooled on the wood.

“Does that metaphor make things clear?”

Faced with the striking visual, Masao let out a heavy groan and bowed his head.

(How do I crack this? Is there really no other way?)

Just as Masao was sinking into despair, Yoongi tossed him a lifeline—though it was entirely calculated.

“If you want to make the math work, you have to adjust the proportions.”

Yoongi picked up a second, full sake flask, gripped the neck tightly, and deliberately snapped the top right off. In the process, a sharp edge grazed his finger, drawing a tiny bead of blood, but he ignored it completely as he smiled warmly at Masao.

“There. Now the capacity of the flask roughly matches the size of the cup, doesn’t it?”

The message finally clicked in Masao’s head.

[Cut your demands down.]

“What must we do to…”

Yoongi held up two fingers.

“First, Genji’s reinstatement as an Hermès model is completely off the table.”

Genji, who had been sitting quietly nearby listening in, instantly erupted.

“No way! You can’t do that! That’s the whole reason you came here in the first place!”

“Genji!”

Masao barked, his face turning beet red as he tried to silence him. But Genji kept screaming, prompting Masao to summon his bodyguards, who hauled the thrashing boy out of the room under a flurry of physical force.

“Gaaaaah!”

As Genji’s fading shrieks echoed down the hall, Yoongi flashed an inward smile and delivered his second condition.

“Second, you won’t be able to pick and choose individual firearms. Furthermore, the pricing will be significantly higher.”

A forced bundle package.

Masao began frantically crunching the numbers in his head once more.

Hmm… the markup is going to sting, but simply possessing high-end military hardware that rival syndicates can’t touch will give us an overwhelming competitive edge. Father will approve. And as for Genji… well, Genji’s modeling career is small change compared to the survival and dominance of our entire clan. We can force him to give it up.

Having weighed the options, Masao nodded heavily.

“We… accept those terms.”

“I’ll have word sent to you shortly.”

As Yoongi stood up and headed for the door, Masao scrambled excitedly toward the nearest telephone, his heart racing.

Father, I did it. I actually pulled it off…!

“Masao actually asked you to smuggle weapons from U.S. Forces Japan? Has the man completely lost his mind?”

Back in Yoongi’s private suite, Choi Chul-gyu clicked his tongue in sheer disbelief.

“To be fair, it’s the kind of request you’d never dream of making in South Korea.”

“Exactly. If military firearms leaked through smuggling channels in Korea, everyone involved would be rotting in a military prison.”

“They’ll go to prison in Japan too if they get caught. The only difference is that in Japan, they simply don’t get caught.”

Hearing Yoongi’s blunt assessment, Chul-gyu winced, recognizing the harsh structural blind spot of Japanese society, and nodded.

“Ah, I suppose you can handle it that way. But what are you actually going to do? That isn’t exactly a low-risk favor. In fact, it’s massive. He’s definitely not asking for a pistol or two—extracting that volume of hardware takes serious maneuvering.”

“Naturally, I’ll have to ask General Gerster.”

“Do you really think he’ll go for it…?”

“Won’t know unless we ask.”

“So, you’re actually planning to follow through?”

When Yoongi nodded, Chul-gyu pressed further.

“Won’t flooding Japanese society with illegal firearms just ramp up the chaos?”

“That’s none of my concern.”

“Huh?”

Yoongi offered a faint, unbothered smile.

“If something like that happened in South Korea, I’d step in to stop it. But the chaos unfolding in Japan has zero to do with me.”

“Is this because you hate Japan? Some kind of patriotic streak?”

Yoongi shook his head.

“Well, that’s not entirely untrue, but primarily, I have zero intention of expanding into the Japanese consumer market anyway. Because of that, whatever adverse ripple effects my actions cause here don’t keep me up at night. Though if people end up calling me a patriot as a bonus, I suppose that’s not a bad thing.”

“From where I’m standing, I love the sound of it. In fact, it’s a stellar decision.”

Clearly approving of the pragmatic ruthlessness behind the move, Chul-gyu nodded in agreement.

“For now, keep this entire matter strictly between us, Secretary Ryu, and Uncle. Nobody else can find out.”

“Because we need the core leadership on the same page regarding strategic direction?”

“Exactly.”

“Understood. My lips are sealed.”

A short while later, Chul-gyu left the suite. Left alone, Yoongi dialed the secure line Gerster had provided, requesting an in-person meeting. Because the operational details were far too sensitive for standard communications, a face-to-face sit-down was non-negotiable. As luck would have it, Gerster was currently staying in Japan to meet with an old military contact, and their meeting was promptly arranged for that same evening.

“Well, well. Never expected you to be hanging around Japan. Developing a sudden interest in the local scene?”

Gerster greeted him with a hearty, grandfatherly laugh, his expression beaming with visible affection for the boy.

“Not really. I’m just wrapping up some business here so things will run smoother back home in Korea.”

“Hard work pays off, always a good thing. That said, if you’re calling me out for a direct, private audience, it must be something heavy. What do you need from me, kid?”

“Are you familiar with the Umiguchi-gumi out in the Tohoku region?”

“Of course I am.”

Confirming that Gerster possessed a working knowledge of Japan’s underworld landscape, Yoongi laid out the details step by step.

“So, you’re telling me that weakening Seth and seizing dominance over luxury retail and distribution in Korea requires leaking U.S. military hardware to the Umiguchi-gumi?”

“Precisely.”

“Hmm. While it’s true there are rogue elements skimming weapons from U.S. bases here for profit, the volume the Umiguchi-gumi is demanding is on a completely different scale.”

“I understand. If it’s too difficult to arrange, I’ll look into alternative routes.”

“And what are the odds on those alternative routes?”

“It’ll take quite a bit longer.”

Listening to Yoongi’s steady reply, Gerster fell silent for a moment before speaking again.

“Yoon.”

“Yes, sir.”

“This isn’t the kind of favor I can pull off as a casual acquaintance. If this operation blows up, I’ll be stripped of every military honor I’ve earned in the States, and worse, my own kids could face administrative discharges.”

“I’m well aware, which is why I wouldn’t dream of coercing you.”

Gerster continued, his tone shifting.

“However, if our relationship were to become a bit closer… I might be willing to take that kind of calculated risk.”

“When you say a closer relationship…?”

As Yoongi looked on with a puzzled expression, Gerster finally laid his cards on the table.

“Where do things stand between you and Merrill right now?”