In October 1987, Tokyo had only just seen the back of a powerful typhoon.
Late at night in Chiyoda Ward, the rain continued to fall.
Torrents washed over the ancient black tiles of the Saionji main residence. In the courtyard, the bamboo grove groaned and rasped in the gale, the sound like countless ghosts wailing beyond the windows.
Inside the study, the warm yellow glow of the desk lamp dispelled the damp chill.
Shuichi sat at the mahogany desk, studying the freshly delivered quarterly financial report. A gold-stamped logo adorned the cover:
S.A. Group (Saionji Group)
Below it stretched a dense list of subsidiaries: S.A. Entertainment, S.A. Logistics, S.A. Investment, S-Collection (Retail)…
"Satsuki."
Shuichi set the report down, removed his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Half a year ago you insisted that the name 'S.A.' remain absolutely secret. Except for a handful of core personnel, no one outside was to know of its connection to the Saionji family."
He tapped the elegantly printed document. "Yet now S-Collection advertisements blanket the streets, the S.A. logo appears on containers in Shimokitazawa, and even Yoshiaki Tsutsumi knows we are behind it. Is this truly wise? If someone should uncover the overseas operations of S.A. Investment…"
Shuichi's voice carried genuine concern. After all, the Cayman Islands accounts of S.A. Investment held a staggering sum in US dollars—enough to send the Japanese National Tax Agency into a frenzy. It was the fruit of their aggressive harvesting in the American stock market.
"Father, have you heard the story of hiding a leaf in the forest?" Satsuki sat opposite him in a high-backed chair, idly turning a Rubik's Cube.
"Half a year ago we were a small mouse. If we had dashed through the streets clutching a fortune, we would have been devoured by cats. So we hid in a burrow—what you called secrecy. But the situation has changed."
*Click.*
The cube rotated once.
"We have grown. An elephant cannot be concealed. Since concealment is impossible, we may as well dress it in circus colors."
She gestured at the report. "To outsiders, what is S.A. today? A trendy new business group that sells fashionable T-shirts, operates karaoke venues, and signs underground singers. It is merely a 'fashion toy' created by the Saionji family to appeal to young people. This identity provides the perfect camouflage."
A cunning smile touched the corner of her mouth. "While everyone stares at a thirty-thousand-yen T-shirt in a Shibuya boutique and debates the quality of its cotton, who will bother to ask how many Microsoft shares a Cayman Islands-registered subsidiary under S.A. Group has quietly acquired? This is true seclusion—found in the very heart of the city."
Shuichi paused, then suddenly grasped the strategy. A highly visible physical business served as cover for discreet financial operations. The brighter the S-Collection sign shone, the deeper the shadow beneath the lamp.
"Of course, I have remained vigilant against the capital on Wall Street. Their methods… happen to be quite familiar to me."
"You child…" Shuichi shook his head, choosing not to question how a teenage girl had become so acquainted with Wall Street.
*Ring—!!!*
At that moment the red secure telephone in the corner of the desk erupted.
The shrill ring cut sharply through the thunderous rainy night. This line connected directly to New York across the ocean. Only one person would call.
Shuichi's expression turned grave. He glanced at the wall clock: Tokyo time, 11:00 p.m.; New York time, 10:00 a.m. The US stock market had been open for only half an hour.
Satsuki set down the Rubik's Cube, slid from her chair, and lifted the receiver. She pressed the speakerphone button.
"Satsuki."
"Frank."
The voice on the other end was chaotic. In the background roared the shouts of traders, the insistent beeping of quotation machines, and the constant clamor of ringing telephones.
Frank sounded urgent, a faint tremor threading through his words.
"Boss, something is wrong."
He wasted no time. "Today's opening was far too weak. The Dow Jones has been drifting lower. And have you seen the news? The Bundesbank just hinted at raising interest rates. Those Germans have lost their minds! If they raise rates, the dollar will plunge and capital will flood back to Europe. Meanwhile, US long-term bond yields have broken ten percent! Damn it—that is supposed to be the risk-free rate. If you can earn ten percent simply by buying Treasury bonds, who will touch risky stocks?"
Frank's heavy breathing filled the line.
"Boss, my gut tells me a storm is coming. Our profit margins on tech stocks are enormous. Microsoft, Oracle, Cisco… these names have already tripled this year. The market is saturated with profit-taking pressure. I strongly recommend we reduce positions. Sell half—no, sell seventy percent. Lock in the gains. We have made more than enough; there is no need to gamble for the last penny."
The study fell quiet, disturbed only by the rain outside and Frank's labored breathing.
Shuichi looked at his daughter. Though he did not grasp the technical indicators of the US market, he could hear the raw fear in Frank's voice—the instinctive alarm of an old hunter sensing a forest fire.
Satsuki did not reply at once. She tapped the tabletop lightly with one finger.
*Tap. Tap. Tap.*
The rhythm remained steady, untouched by Frank's agitation.
"Frank," she said at last, her voice cold as ice. "I am not selling."
"What?!" Frank's shocked cry crackled through the speaker. "Boss! Did you not hear me? Long-term bond yields have broken ten percent! This is the prelude to a crash. If we do not run now, we will not escape when the elevator cable snaps!"
"I am not selling the core assets," Satsuki repeated, her tone allowing no argument. "Microsoft, Cisco, Oracle—not a single share of these three is to be touched."
"But—"
"Let me finish."
She cut him off. "Not selling does not mean doing nothing. Frank, I want you to take action. Liquidate all the junk bonds and second-tier blue-chip stocks you purchased while following the crowd. Convert everything to cash."
"And then," Satsuki paused, a flash of fierce light in her eyes, "take our core tech holdings to the bank and secure a mortgage loan."
"Mortgage?!" Frank's voice nearly cracked. "Adding leverage at a moment like this? Boss, if the stock price falls below the liquidation line, we will be wiped out—left without even our underwear!"
"Based on current prices, what is the maximum loan-to-value ratio?" Satsuki ignored his protest.
"…Approximately fifty percent," Frank answered automatically.
"Do it. Mortgage the stocks and convert them into US dollar cash. Combined with the proceeds from liquidating the secondary holdings, I want S.A. Investment's accounts overflowing with liquid demand deposits."
A long silence stretched across the line. Frank was clearly stunned. He could not fathom why, sensing danger, she would choose the high-risk path of mortgaging rather than simply selling.
It was like watching a house about to catch fire and, instead of fleeing, mortgaging the property to buy fire extinguishers.
"Boss…" Frank's voice grew hoarse. "What exactly are you planning?"
"I am waiting for an opportunity."
Satsuki gazed out at the pitch-black rainy night. Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating her youthful face.
"Frank, do you know what matters most in hunting? Patience. This is indeed the eve of a storm. Most people will panic and flee, or lose their heads trying to avoid risk. But after the storm passes, the beach will be littered with fish washed ashore by the waves—high-quality assets panic-sold at a discount, crown jewels forced onto the market by liquidity squeezes. At that moment, only the one holding cash will rule the shore."
Satsuki's finger struck the desk with finality. "Execute the order. Prepare the money. The moment will arrive around mid-October. It is coming soon."
"…Yes, Boss."
Frank yielded at last. Though reason warned him this was a gamble, in the past year the mysterious Eastern figure known as Satsuki had never been wrong. Every judgment had proven prophetic.
"I will see to it. Wish us luck."
*Click—*
The line went dead.
Silence reclaimed the study.
Shuichi stared at his daughter, the hair on his neck rising. "Satsuki… are you saying the US stock market is about to crash?"
"Crash?" Satsuki turned, picked up the Rubik's Cube, and gave it a few casual twists. "No. That is not a crash. That is a gift from heaven."
She glanced at the calendar on the wall. Today was October 7th. Twelve days remained until the "Black Monday" that would terrify the global financial world. On that day the Dow Jones would plunge 22.6 percent in a single session. Countless Wall Street elites would line up to leap from rooftops. Assets worldwide would go on clearance sale.
And S.A.—this behemoth cloaked in the bright garments of fashion—would open its jaws wide while everyone else scrambled for safety.
"Go to sleep, Father."
Satsuki placed the perfectly solved Rubik's Cube on the table—all six faces now the same color.
"The wind and rain outside will continue for a while longer. What we must do is keep our guns polished and wait for the gunshot."
Shuichi watched his daughter's small silhouette leave the study. Outside, the rain intensified and thunder rolled. Yet he knew that compared with the financial tsunami gathering strength across the ocean, this typhoon was nothing more than a gentle breeze.
In twelve days, S.A. Investment—the "bastard son" wrapped in the gorgeous outer clothing of S-Collection—would finally bare its true fangs to the world.