Lady Joker, Volume 1 by Kaoru Takamura (lightest ebook reader .txt) 📕

him felt that Hinode’s long-term course had already been set and that, no matter who assumed leadership, things would not change dramatically. On the other hand, he was hopeful and yet skeptical that if someone who possessed a more ingenious character—someone unlike him—were to take charge, he might be able to take control of the lumbering giant that was Hinode.

Shiroyama asked himself, when it came down to it, had he or had he not fulfilled his duty? With regard to his yearly responsibilities, his achievements clearly showed that he had met them, but what about the long-term obligation to stabilize and strengthen the management infrastructure of the company?

Shiroyama did not have confidence in this. He felt sure that Hinode Meister would meet their short-term goals, but who knew if it would really lay a solid foundation for the company in the coming century? Any mistakes he had made would become clear in half a year, but his success would only be evident half a century from now.

As he pondered such things, it seemed to Shiroyama that now, in this present moment, there wasn’t much left of himself as an individual. Though he did not feel especially regretful, he came to the conclusion that his corporate life had been far from satisfying. And if he were asked about his development as a person, the fact was that he had never broken free from the impertinent worldview he had held at twenty-two, and even now he had still not repented for the original sin of self-doubt that he had committed at the age of eight.

It’s all well and good for you to act blasé, but what are you going to do now that you’ve been kidnapped at your ripe old age? It seemed as if his life would be spared, but once the ransom was paid and he was released, how could he ever return to face the world again? As he quashed these reflections, which he had taken pains to collect in his mind, he came to the realization that, even if he were to survive, he would no longer have a place in society, and Shiroyama was again plunged into confusion.

Shiroyama was awakened abruptly. The quilt was torn away and he was made to sit directly on the tatami floor. The men made noises as they moved around him: the sound of the futon and blankets being shaken and patted down; the drone of a motor like that of a vacuum; footsteps back and forth on the tatami; and the sound of wastepaper being stuffed into a garbage bag. He figured that cleanup had begun.

After a while, with the vacuum still going in the background, one of the men sat back down in front of Shiroyama.

“Right now, it’s 2:16 a.m. on Monday, March twenty-seventh. You’ll be released soon.” The man spoke slowly, as if he were reading something aloud. “I will now go over what you need to know. Listen carefully, and keep it all in mind. First, our demand is two billion. Hear that? Two billion in old, ten-thousand-yen notes. Cash.”

The amount—two billion—did not immediately register. Reciting the number over and over in his mind, Shiroyama told himself that this, at last, was their ransom.

“Come up with a slush fund within one month, and wait for further instructions,” the man’s voice continued. “You will be released, so you take the lead in coming up with the money. You have one month to get the board to agree to it.”

Shiroyama, weighed down by grave doubts, was jounced ever so slightly—both mentally and physically—by the word “released.” He could not immediately grasp the motive of a captor who demands money after promising to release his hostage.

“Listen carefully. Our demand is two billion, but give the police a different story. Tell them that we demanded six hundred million, and that we will communicate the method of delivery to you later. Got it? You’ll understand soon why you’re telling them six hundred million instead of two billion. You’re going to convince the police that first we demanded six hundred million, then we abandoned you and disappeared. It’s for your own good.”

The man paused as if to give Shiroyama time to reflect on this. Shiroyama was nothing if not confused after being told two billion, then six hundred million, then to lie to the police, but of one thing he was sure—that what was happening to him now was not a reckless unplanned crime. This just made the situation all the more eerie.

The man’s voice droned on. “After all, you are the president, so you had better think carefully about whether to cooperate with the police investigation and destroy the company, or to pay us with the slush fund and save the company. Once we have the two billion, we promise not to make any further demands whatsoever. Our hostage is three point five million kiloliters of beer. If the money is not paid, the hostage will die. Got it? We’ll be in touch before Golden Week. That’s all.”

The reason he had been kidnapped slowly became clear to Shiroyama. This was done in order to force the company to pay the kind of money that would have been impossible for an individual to pay. The kidnapping victim was not Shiroyama the president, but Hinode the beer itself. Shiroyama had only been detained so that he could reliably communicate their demands. These criminals were taking as their hostage beer that could be purchased anywhere, anytime, by anyone, and if their demands were not met, they intended to launch an attack on the product. As soon as he realized this, he envisioned a sinister shadow blotting out the azure phoenix of Hinode Meister, which was just about to line store shelves. His eyes and mouth were still covered, and without his being aware of it Shiroyama’s teeth began to chatter, and he almost fainted in agony.

It took a while longer for Shiroyama to notice that the bonds around his ankles had been removed. His wrists