Chapter 14
1141words
Shin sat in front of the floor-to-ceiling window with a ballpoint pen in his hand. Outside was the night view of Tokyo Bay, brilliantly lit. Behind this beautiful night scenery, a massive conspiracy was brewing.
"72 hours left." He wrote down this number on the paper.
Footsteps came from outside the door. Shin quickly stuffed the note into his pocket, pretending to admire the night view.
"Mr. Nakayama, do you need any service?" A man in a suit peeked in.
"No, I don't."
"Then I'll be outside. Please call me anytime if you need anything."
The door closed again. Shin continued his thinking.
Kokonogi was clever. Choosing to place him under house arrest three days before the typhoon's landfall both avoided direct conflict and allowed things to end quietly under the cover of a natural disaster. Once the typhoon passed, everything would be too late.
But Shin wasn't without a chance.
He drew a timeline on the paper:
● T-72 hours: Now, under house arrest
● T-24 hours: Eve of typhoon landfall
● T-0 hours: Typhoon direct hit, civic center collapse
● T+12 hours: Emergency board meeting, Kokonogi seizes the opportunity to rise to power
The key lies in the board meeting at T-12 hours.
If he could appear at that meeting with a complete chain of evidence...
Xin stood up and walked to the landline phone in the corner of the room. There were definitely listening devices, but not all calls would be monitored in real time. Especially some calls that seemed unimportant.
He dialed a number.
"Hello, this is the reservation department of the Seaside Hotel restaurant."
"I want to book dinner for tomorrow night at eight o'clock, for two people," Xin said. "Please tell the chef that I want to taste braised pork like my mother used to make. Especially that... feeling of home."
There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds.
"Certainly, sir. We understand. Two people, tomorrow night at eight o'clock."
Xin hung up the phone. This was the code he had arranged with Sawamura. "Mother's braised pork" meant "operation begins," and "feeling of home" meant "execute according to plan."
The next afternoon, Sawamura sat in a café with his phone on the table.
She had received the new signal. The next 24 hours would determine everything.
"Miss Sawamura?"
She looked up and saw Moriyama walking over.
"Moriyama-kun."
"Did you receive it?" Moriyama sat down, speaking in a low voice.
"I did. How are things on your end?"
"I've obtained the internal layout of the Civic Center." Moriyama took a blueprint from his bag, "There's an electrical control room on the third floor in the southeast corner. If we create a little 'accident' there..."
Sawamura looked at the blueprint: "A power outage?"
"Not a power outage. A fire alarm." Moriyama pointed to a spot on the blueprint, "There are smoke detectors and sprinkler systems here. If the alarm is triggered, according to fire regulations, everyone must be evacuated."
"But during a typhoon, where would they evacuate to?"
"Temporary shelters. Though rudimentary, it's better than being trapped under rubble."
Sawamura nodded: "Here's my situation. The financial evidence has been completely organized, all fund flows have been documented in detail." She lowered her voice, "Including the suspicious transfers from Kokonogi's personal account."
"What about the media?"
"I contacted reporter Tanabe from the Tokyo Business Weekly. He agreed to publish the report simultaneously with the board meeting." Sawamura took a deep breath, "But you know what this means. Once the information goes public, I'll never be able to establish myself in the construction industry again."
Moriyama held her hand: "Sawamura, you don't have to..."
"No." Sawamura interrupted him, "Three years ago, I didn't have the courage to speak up for Uncle Nakayama. This time, I can't be a coward again."
She took out a USB drive: "All the evidence is in here. After the typhoon makes landfall tomorrow, no matter what happens, make sure this information becomes public."
Moriyama took the USB drive, feeling its weight: "The lives of 580 people..."
"And more innocent lives in the future." Sawamura stood up, "If we don't stop Kokonogi, similar tragedies will continue to happen."
That night, Sawamura returned to her apartment and began her final preparations.
She opened her computer, which displayed all of Amami Construction's financial statements from the past three years. Every unusual expenditure, every suspicious account had been marked in red pen by her.
The phone rang.
"Reporter Tanabe? This is Sawamura."
"Miss Sawamura, I have the article ready. But are you sure you want to do this? Once published, the entire construction industry will know you were the one who provided the internal documents."
Sawamura looked at herself in the mirror; that once timid accountant had disappeared: "I'm certain. Mr. Tanabe, some things are more important than one's personal career."
"I understand. Tomorrow at 2 PM, right when the board meeting begins after the typhoon makes landfall, we'll publish the report simultaneously."
After hanging up, Sawamura continued her work. Each document, each number could be crucial to saving lives.
Meanwhile, Moriyama was studying the fire prevention system of the Civic Center.
He found a critical point: the smoke detectors on the third floor were directly connected to the building's central alarm system. As long as enough smoke was created there, the alarm for the entire building would go off.
"Fire Code Article 12," Moriyama muttered to himself, "when a fire alarm is triggered, all personnel must evacuate the building within fifteen minutes."
He looked at the weather forecast. The typhoon would directly hit Tokyo at 1:00 PM tomorrow. If he could trigger the alarm around 12:30...
His phone vibrated once. It was a new message:
"Everything is proceeding according to plan. Remember, no matter what happens, the lives of 580 people come first."
Moriyama replied: "Understood. We will succeed."
In the seaside hotel, Shin leaned against the headboard, holding the "Principles of Structural Mechanics" book his father had left behind.
Three years. From the moment his father died, he knew that someday he would come to this point.
He turned to the photo tucked in the book: the groundbreaking ceremony of the civic center. Father stood among the crowd, his face beaming with pride. Back then, Father believed that the building he designed would protect countless families.
"Dad," Arata said softly, "tomorrow, I will reveal the truth."
Outside the window, the vanguard of the typhoon had arrived. Trees began to sway, and raindrops hit the glass.
The 72-hour countdown had only 24 hours remaining.
Tomorrow would either be a victory for justice or the loss of 580 innocent lives.
Arata closed the book and shut his eyes. Before the final battle, he needed to conserve his energy.
Because in tomorrow's chess game, he had staked everything.
