eurekapd Chapter 103 Termites and Gold
Chapter 103 Termites and Gold
July 1, 1988, 9:00 AM.
Marunouchi, Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo.
The rain is still falling outside the window.
SA Group headquarters building, fourteenth floor, financial settlement center.
The place was somewhat chaotic, with all the employees working frantically. The air was thick with the acrid smell of cheap cigarettes, instant coffee, and overheated electronic components. Dozens of NEC-made wide-format dot-matrix printers were running simultaneously.
"Sizzle—sizzle—"
The sound of printing needles striking the ribbon rose and fell, sounding like thousands of cicadas screaming in this enclosed space. A continuous stream of perforated printing paper gushed from the machine's mouth, piling up in white waves on the floor.
Executive Director Endo stood in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, his hands behind his back, as if waiting for something.
He didn't look out the window at the cars crawling in the rain, but instead glanced every now and then at the Seiko watch on his wrist. Each tick of the second hand felt like a tap on his temple.
"hurry up."
He turned around, his voice hoarse.
"There's still half an hour before the bank's first batch of settlement windows closes. We need to enter all those documents."
"Executive, this payment to the 'New Policy Research Association' is ostensibly for 'Summer Academic Seminar Sponsorship.'" A section chief of accounting, his hair a mess, sweating profusely, his glasses fogged up, rushed over carrying a stack of documents. "But the amount is too large; the tax office's automatic warning system might..."
"Splitting".
Endo didn't even glance at it before interrupting him. He walked to a long table piled high with account books and casually picked up a seal.
"Break this sum into fifty parts. Change the names to 'market research fees,' 'GG consulting fees,' and 'employee summer welfare ticket purchases.' Distribute the payments to those dozen or so shell political groups under Osawa's name."
He exhaled and slammed his hand down on the expenditure slip.
"Smack."
The bright red ink spread across the paper.
"Remember, we are doing business, not making political donations."
Endo raised his head, his bloodshot eyes revealing a fierce determination.
"Every transaction must have a contract, an invoice, and proof of actual business. Even if it's just buying air, we need Saionji Construction to provide me with an air composition analysis report."
"yes!"
The accounting section chief ran off with the documents in his hand.
Endo let out a long sigh, took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and tried to take one out. But his hand was shaking so badly that the cigarette fell onto the carpet.
Last night, the cash promissory note for 300 million yen and banquet tickets were delivered to Ichiro Osawa.
That's "gold".
Now, what he needs to do is to turn this outflowing gold into legitimate "dust" on the books and scatter it into SA Group's vast ocean of cash flow, so that no one can get a piece of it.
This is what the young lady meant by "compliance".
In this country, as long as the procedures are perfect, black can be turned into white.
Just then.
"bite--"
The elevator arrival announcement sounded outside the lobby.
Then came a series of chaotic and heavy footsteps. Unlike the light, airy steps of ordinary employees, these footsteps were the sound of leather shoes slamming hard on the floor, carrying a suffocating sense of oppression.
The glass door to the finance department was violently pushed open.
The once noisy office fell silent instantly. Even the dozens of printers seemed to sense something, their sounds becoming shrill.
A group of men walked in.
They were all dressed in matching dark blue trench coats, carrying heavy silver Duralumin cases. They weren't using umbrellas, and water was still dripping from the shoulders of their coats, but this did nothing to diminish the chilling, menacing aura emanating from them.
The man at the head of the group took off his wet hat, revealing a face devoid of any expression.
He took a black leather wallet out of his jacket pocket and unfolded it.
The golden badge gleamed coldly under the fluorescent lights.
Tokyo National Tax Bureau, Inspection Department.
Commonly known as "Maru-sa".
The air in the entire office seemed to freeze instantly. The young female accountant covered her mouth, and the ballpoint pen in her hand fell to the ground, rolling to the feet of the group of people.
In the Japanese business world, this is synonymous with death. Companies targeted by them will suffer greatly, if not die.
"Everyone, get out of your seats."
The leading commander's voice wasn't loud, but it was extremely penetrating.
"Place both hands on the desktop, do not touch any documents, and do not turn off the computer."
"We suspect that SA Group is involved in massive tax evasion and illegal political donations. We are now conducting a compulsory search in accordance with the National Tax Offenders Control Act."
This is the retribution of power.
To quell external threats, one must first secure internal stability. Although external events have already overwhelmed the Takeshita faction, they still have the capacity to find time to deal with the "traitor."
Prime Minister Takeshita Noboru's counterattack has arrived. Since he can't stop the money from flowing to Ichiro Osawa through politics, he will use the state apparatus to freeze the treasury and seize the account books.
If the ledgers are taken away today, SA's financial chain will break. Without money, Osawa Ichiro's "rebellion" is a joke.
Executive Director Endo stood there, looking at the ballpoint pen that was being trampled underfoot.
His hands were still trembling. It was physiological fear.
But he remembered the word that Master Xiuyi had said to him in the study that day:
"stable."
Endo took a deep breath, slowly bent down, picked up the cigarette from the ground, and put it back in the cigarette case. Then, he straightened his slightly crooked tie and stepped out from behind the mountain of documents.
He stood like a not-so-tall, but hard enough reef, blocking the commander's path.
"I am Endo, the financial executive."
His voice was steady, even carrying a hint of the authority he usually displayed when reprimanding his subordinates.
"This is SA Group's financial headquarters. Isn't it extremely rude of you all to barge in without an appointment?"
The commander squinted and looked the balding middle-aged man up and down.
"The search warrant is here."
He slammed a piece of paper stamped with the bright red seal of the Tokyo District Court onto the nearest desk, making the calculator on the desk jump.
"Mr. Endo, I urge you to cooperate. If your obstruction leads to the loss of evidence, you cannot afford the consequences."
"Please go ahead."
Endo glanced at it, then turned to the side, made a "please" gesture, and even revealed a mocking smile on his face.
"However, sir, I must remind you of something."
He pointed to the densely packed filing cabinets behind him.
"Every single sheet of paper here represents the reputation of the Saionji family. If you mess it up or lose it, leading to complaints from our overseas clients..."
Endo paused, his gaze behind his glasses sharpening.
"Then it's probably not a problem that can be solved by paying back taxes."
The commander gave Endo a cold look, ignored his threat, and waved his hand.
"search!"
Dozens of investigators, like a swarm of black locusts, scattered instantly, rushing towards every corner of the office.
"Splash—"
The drawer was pulled open, and the documents were spilled onto the floor.
The computer tower was forcibly unplugged, emitting a mournful "buzzing" sound.
The silver Dura aluminum case was opened, like a monster with its mouth wide open, devouring the heavy ledgers.
The entire finance department became a battlefield.
Papers flew everywhere, footsteps clattered. The accountants, who were usually highly respected in this country, now huddled in a corner, trembling like lambs to the slaughter.
The commander pulled up a chair and sat imposingly in the center of his office. He casually picked up a general ledger that had just been retrieved from the safe and opened it.
His rough fingers flipped quickly through the thin pages of the ledger.
He's looking for that vulnerability.
If he finds a discrepancy, even just a few million yen, he can use that as grounds to apply for freezing all of SA's bank accounts.
One page.
Two pages.
Ten minutes have passed.
Half an hour has passed.
The commander's brow furrowed deeper and deeper. Rainwater streamed down his forehead and dripped onto the account books.
No.
There was nothing there.
This ledger is shockingly clean.
Every expenditure, even the cost of buying a few rolls of toilet paper, is accompanied by a complete invoice, approval form, and tax declaration receipt.
All the funds that flowed to the Osawa faction were disguised as legitimate business transactions.
SA Construction paid "engineering consulting fees" to the construction company affiliated with Osawa, along with a thick stack of drawing review reports.
SA Entertainment donated "cultural sponsorship funds" to the local festival in the Osawa constituency, and even provided a certificate of appreciation and photos from the event.
S-Farm hired several members of the Osawa faction as "agricultural policy advisors," and the monthly advisory fees paid to them were covered by legal employment contracts.
Each "banquet voucher" corresponds to an "entertainment expense" reimbursement form from a subsidiary of SA, with the amount strictly controlled below the 200,000 yen limit allowed by the Political Funds Control Law.
The political donations totaling 300 million yen were packaged as a large-scale, seamless, and completely legal business collaboration.
"This is impossible..."
The official slammed the ledger shut, his fingers turning white from the force.
He worked as an investigator for twenty years, arresting real estate tycoons who evaded taxes and prosecuting corrupt politicians. In those people's ledgers, there were always some gray areas called "temporary payments" and "unexplained funds."
But here, it's like a sterile operating room.
It was so clean it was despair-inducing.
"Sir, what are you looking for?"
Endo stood to the side, holding a cup of tea. He didn't sit down; he just stood there quietly, like a shadow.
"Is this what you're looking for?"
Endo took a key from his jacket pocket and opened the smallest safe behind him.
He took out a document and gently placed it in front of the commander.
"This is SA Group's tax payment certificate for the previous year. They were the number one taxpayer in Chiyoda Ward."
Endo's voice was soft, but it was exceptionally clear amidst the noisy rummaging.
"If you're here to learn advanced financial management practices, I welcome you. But if you're here at someone's behest, looking for something to use against them..."
Endo lowered his head, looked at the commander whose face was ashen, and a cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth.
"Then you may be disappointed."
"Two years ago, the eldest daughter of the Saionji family hired a partner from one of the Big Four accounting firms to design this financial system for us."
"This system was not designed for tax evasion."
"It was designed to deter thieves."
The commander suddenly raised his head, staring fiercely at Endo.
Are you threatening a public official?
No, I am stating the facts.
Endo pointed out the window.
The rain was still falling, and the sky was overcast.
"You made the laws of this country. But we strictly abide by every single word you wrote."
"If obeying the law is a crime, then please take me with you."
The commander's chest heaved violently.
He looked at his busy subordinates filling the room.
An investigator rushed over, holding a disk, his face grim: "Boss, we checked their overseas remittance records. All the funds flowed to several offshore companies in the Cayman Islands and Luxembourg. The shareholder structures of those companies have been traced through several layers, ultimately pointing to... anonymous trust funds."
"We don't have permission to check their accounts."
Another subordinate ran over: "Boss, there's only petty cash in the safe, no hidden accounts found. And no names of politicians were found either."
Lost.
The commander knew that the operation had been a complete failure.
Prime Minister Takeshita Noboru wanted to find leverage over the Saionji family and cut off Osawa's financial chain.
But he underestimated his opponent.
This is no longer the old China that could be manipulated at will. This is a capital behemoth armed to the teeth and well-versed in modern financial rules.
The bureaucratic methods of the old era appear so clumsy and powerless in the face of the rules of Wall Street.
"Fall back!"
The commander abruptly stood up, his chair scraping against the floor with a harsh screech.
He grabbed the search warrant from the table and shoved it into his trench coat pocket.
"Take these copies of the ledgers! We'll examine them carefully when we get back! I refuse to believe there's any cat in this world that won't eat fish!"
This is just a polite way of saying things.
It's also a lament of a defeated dog.
The group of men in dark blue trench coats came quickly and left quickly.
All that remained were a mess of documents, an overturned chair, and the lingering dampness in the air.
The office was deathly silent.
Only when the elevator doors closed did the accountants huddled in the corner dare to breathe heavily. Several female employees had already collapsed to the ground, sobbing softly.
Endo remained standing in the same spot.
His back was already soaked through, and his shirt clung tightly to his body, chilling him to the bone.
He slowly took off his glasses, took out a handkerchief from his pocket, and carefully wiped the fog off the lenses.
Then, he put his glasses back on.
He walked to his desk and picked up the red internal phone.
I dialed a number.
That was a dedicated line leading directly to the family study.
"master."
Endo's voice trembled slightly, but it was filled with the exhilaration of surviving a disaster.
"The 'guest' has left."
"They searched every corner, but took nothing."
On the other end of the phone came Shuichi's calm and gentle voice, and in the background, there seemed to be the snip of scissors trimming potted plants.
"Thank you for your hard work, Endo."
"Spread the word."
"Let everyone in Nagata-cho know that even Maru-satsu of the National Tax Bureau can't touch the Saionji family."
"Yes."
Endo hung up the phone.
He looked out the window.
The rain seemed to have lessened somewhat. Through gaps in the dark clouds, a faint sliver of light pierced through the darkness, illuminating the streets of Marunouchi.
Even in this steel jungle, money still flows smoothly.
Those unseen numbers, like termites, are relentlessly and silently eroding the foundations of the old era, following telephone lines and bank networks.
A black crow landed on the windowsill, shook the water droplets off its feathers, tilted its head, and looked at the people in the office who were silently cleaning up the mess.
It let out a hoarse cry, then flapped its wings and flew away, disappearing into the gray Tokyo skyline.
All that remained on the ground were puddles of water that had not yet dried, reflecting the huge neon sign of SA Group at the top of the building.
In the gloomy rain, the signboard shimmered with a red light, like a bloodshot eye.
......
......
......
The techniques used in the article mainly exploited two loopholes at the time:
1. According to the Political Funds Control Law at the time, if an individual or company purchases banquet tickets for a single political fundraising banquet for no more than 20 yen, the purchaser's name is not required to be disclosed in the political funds income and expenditure report.
Therefore, by breaking down 3 million yen into countless small purchases of "less than 20 yen," the Saionji family can remain legally invisible.
2. Political donations are disguised as business expenses to achieve financial compliance, packaged as entertainment expenses (i.e., banquet tickets mentioned earlier), investigation fees, or consulting fees. When faced with an audit, all accounts consist of complete business invoices and event ticket stubs. Since there are legitimate business names and the amounts are dispersed across various subsidiaries, it is difficult to determine whether this is tax evasion or non-F-related asset transfer.