In early June, Tokyo's rainy season arrived right on schedule.
The gloomy sky hung heavily overhead like a sodden, filthy rag.
Relentless rain washed over the streets, and the air was thick with a suffocating, humid heat.
The weather was so oppressive that even breathing felt like inhaling mildew.
But for some inside the Bandai Headquarters, the impending storm was far more suffocating than the weather.
Outside the first-floor lobby, several black Mercedes-Benz sedans splashed through the water and came to a halt.
The doors opened, and Richard strode inside, leading a joint team from PricewaterhouseCoopers and McKinsey.
More than thirty people, all clad in dark, high-end custom suits, carried heavy, password-protected briefcases. Their faces were expressionless, their gazes as cold as executioners about to carry out a death sentence.
Dozens of polished leather shoes struck the glossy marble floor in a synchronized clack, clack, clack. Each step felt like a hammer blow to the hearts of the Bandai employees.
Makoto Yamashina had been waiting by the elevators long before they arrived.
The once-imperious President of Bandai now stood with his back slightly hunched, his face plastered with a nearly fawning smile. Like a lowly greeter, he respectfully ushered Richard and his team inside.
Once the joint task force entered the top-floor executive offices, they bypassed all superficial pleasantries. With thunderous efficiency, they seized control of the finance department and the core archives.
A dual-track audit was launched immediately.
Bandai's remaining conservative executives cowered at their desks, their faces ashen, barely daring to breathe. The slightest hesitation or attempt to argue was met with a sharp thwack as Richard's elite lawyers slammed pre-prepared, officially sealed legal notices onto their desks.
Makoto Yamashina's performance was even more alarmingly eager. To prove his absolute loyalty to Sega, he personally led Richard to several veteran directors' private safes, prying them open to reveal deeply hidden internal ledgers that documented countless illicit transfers of wealth. He handed them directly to Richard.
At this sight, the veteran executives collapsed into their chairs, their eyes vacant, their spirits completely broken.
Bandai's internal restructuring and asset valuation were proceeding with a brutal, almost terrifying efficiency, driven by Sega's unyielding and forceful intervention.
Meanwhile, thousands of kilometers away on the Indochina Peninsula, a bloodless financial slaughter had reached a fever pitch.
Inside the Investment Department's exclusive trading room at Sega Headquarters, the air conditioning was cranked to the maximum, completely shutting out the stifling heat and humidity from outside.
Whoosh— The automatic doors slid open.
Takuya Nakayama walked in, clutching a freshly printed Reuters cable.
Hoshino was standing at the central console, his eyes glued to the spot exchange rate trends in the Singapore offshore market. Hearing the commotion, he whipped his head around.
"Managing Director," Hoshino said, hurrying forward, his voice trembling with barely contained excitement.
"The Bank of Thailand has made a new move. It seems they've been backed into a corner," Takuya Nakayama said, tossing the cable onto the desk.
Hoshino grabbed it and scanned the text.
The bolded headline was a stark warning: [ Bank of Thailand Urgently Announces: Effective Immediately, All New Account Openings for Bangkok International Banking Facilities are Suspended; All Financial Institutions in Thailand Are Required to Report Daily Foreign Exchange Positions! ]
"They're absolutely desperate," Hoshino said, setting down the telex and taking a sharp breath. "They've welded the front door shut. They're preparing to trap the dogs inside."
"Those old foxes on Wall Street are going to get flayed alive in Bangkok this time," Takuya Nakayama said, pulling out a large leather swivel chair and sitting down. He crossed his legs and leaned back, finding a comfortable position. "Did we sweep our tails clean?"
Hoshino walked to the whiteboard, took a notebook, and flipped it open.
"Our last remaining funds in the local market were fully settled before the close on the afternoon of May 28th," Hoshino reported, citing the precise timestamp. "We didn't leave them a single cent! Now the Bank of Thailand is frantically hiking overnight lending rates in the local market, practically forcing the shorts into liquidation. Soros and his crew are holding massive spot short positions—the daily interest costs alone are astronomical. If we'd stayed just a few days longer, more than half of our 30% profit would have been eaten away, or we might have even ended up paying out of pocket!"
"A clean getaway," Takuya Nakayama nodded approvingly. "Greed is what gets you killed. Have all our positions been moved out now?"
"It's all in Singapore and Hong Kong." Hoshino pointed to the largest screen on the wall. "Non-Deliverable Forwards, NDFs. We've cranked the leverage to the absolute maximum. The offshore market is beyond the Bank of Thailand's reach. No matter how drastic their policies, no matter how sharp their knives, they can't touch us in Singapore. We're sitting in a safe zone, sipping coffee while they fight it out with the Wall Street crowd."
Takuya Nakayama watched the lines on the screen plummet like a cliff.
"Halting new accounts and mandating position reporting... It looks like a decisive move, but it's just drinking poison to quench thirst." Takuya tapped his fingers lightly on the table. "Thailand's domestic companies are all surviving on foreign loans. Now that new accounts are blocked, liquidity is completely frozen. Their capital chains will snap any moment. Within two weeks, Bangkok will be flooded with bankruptcies, and unemployed workers will be taking to the streets. The Ministry of Finance must be panicking. The Japanese banking sector has so much exposure in Thailand—all of it is about to become unrecoverable bad debt."
"They have no other choice," Hoshino said, pulling up a chair and sitting across from Takuya. He lowered his voice. "The foreign exchange reserves in the national treasury were already drained by Soros's wave after wave of attacks. Now they can only hold on through administrative measures. I just got off the phone with a trader in Singapore—the selling pressure on the Baht in the offshore market shows no sign of weakening. In fact, it's getting fiercer. Speculators from all over the world have seen they're bluffing, and they're all ready to jump in and take a piece of the action."
"Did Director Takahashi's money go in too?" Takuya asked casually.
"All of it," Hoshino said with a grin. "A hundred million dollars, split across a dozen or so discreet offshore accounts to build the position without making a ripple. Director Takahashi called last night, sounding nervous and asking for an update. I told him straight: 'Put your heart in your stomach, sleep soundly, and just wait for the payout next month.'"
Just then, in the trading room, a sweat-drenched trader suddenly shot to his feet.
"Director Hoshino! Managing Director! Moody's just issued an emergency report! They've downgraded the credit ratings of several major Thai commercial banks again—two notches down!"
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