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

As a sales machine, Shiroyama’s sole mission had been to sell as many cases of product as possible, and throughout those years of experience he himself had witnessed his fair share of the ins and outs of corporate activities, but it wasn’t until he was promoted that he became acutely aware of the tumor that was stealthily attached to such ordinary occurrences. A beer company couldn’t get by just making and selling beer. Not that Hinode was special—it was the same with any other corporation.

After revisions to the Commercial Code in 1982, there were generally two roads that corporations could take. One way was to sever all ties to corporate extortionists; the other was to maintain a relationship by subtly changing its form, and like so many other corporations, Hinode opted for the latter. The reason went far beyond the simple need to avoid trouble; the choice was made in the face of a reality that, even before the Commercial Code, corporations alone could not change the systematic customs of this country.

In Hinode’s case, however, the various expenditures to the Okada Association far exceeded an amount that could be approved by the manager of general affairs, and it was a dubious honor that the responsibility of dealing with Okada had been tacitly entrusted to Kurata. The fact was that, after all these years, nobody on the board could determine the limits of reasonable conduct—or just what that meant, anyway. Under such circumstances, when Shirai took his position as a board member six years ago, he asserted the need to settle their accounts as soon as possible, a hair-raising prospect for all the other members. At the time, Kurata had scoffed at the notion, indignation draining the color from his face. “I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t so easily insinuate yourself into a matter I’ve been taking responsibility for,” he had retorted.

The context for the argument’s turning so emotional was the corporate culture that supported such deep personal connections to political and business circles and ultranationalist groups, connections that had carried over from the zaibatsu era. Since a beer business couldn’t exist without distribution, in addition to its network of ten affiliated land transportation companies, Hinode controlled extensive real estate throughout the country. One might say that here was where the problem stemmed from, but every root was entwined with all of Japan’s economic activities and financial capital. Kurata could not be faulted for recognizing that it was not so simple as one corporation upholding a naïve sense of social justice on its own. Justice for a corporation was its ability to reap a profit.

And yet, Shirai was also correct that there was no long-term gain in Hinode’s continued entanglements with these subterranean roots. Shirai was not simply urging them to settle accounts. His argument was that they needed to make careful preparations and the necessary calculations in order to sever all ties. Shiroyama was well aware that over the last six years Shirai had been looking for an opportunity at every turn to lay the groundwork at board meetings to build consensus for his strategy.

Shiroyama also knew that the tide was about to turn. The economic boom would eventually end. Real estate and stock prices would readjust accordingly. If he were to predict what would succeed this gilded era of mass consumption, it would be, in a nutshell, “petit-bourgeois fastidiousness.” The mentality of citizens that could be summed up in such key words as thriftiness, downsizing, simplicity, and individualism would drive them to abandon material wealth in favor of emotional fulfillment, and to insist upon “fastidiousness” in society. In such a demanding era, the character of the political world, not just banks and corporations, would be challenged to follow suit. The age in which corporations would be scrutinized about their social responsibility and morals before their pursuit of profit was just around the corner.

If he were to examine his own company this way, Hinode’s management practices, which boasted an equity ratio of 47 percent, were clearly sound, but the reality was that Hinode’s overwhelming superiority did not align with an image of “fastidiousness.” From their ties to the National Tax Agency on down through various regulatory agencies, to their corporate keiretsu alliances throughout sales and distribution, and their designated shareholders comprised of major banks and insurance companies—every one of these factors would be considered out of step with everyday people’s lifestyle. And if their connection to a shadowy realm such as Okada became public, Hinode’s hundred-year-old brand image would collapse.

It was true that something had to be done about Okada. And just like that, Shiroyama had added another item of concern to his list—and it was still so early. But by the time he entered one of the executive conference rooms with Shirai, he wore an expression appropriate for the start of the day, presenting himself to the staff assembled there and repeating more morning greetings.

The executive breakfast meeting that took place the second Monday of every month had been a tradition at Hinode for more than twenty years. Those invited included the twenty executives at the main office as well as the presidents and vice presidents of each subsidiary company, but since they each had their own various affairs to tend to, attendance generally amounted to around twenty people. Since everyone sat down in the order they arrived, seatmates changed every time, so that they spoke with different people about different topics. Thus, while they ate their three-thousand-yen bento boxes delivered from Matsukado, they exchanged only generic news and information; there was a tacit agreement that serious subjects would not be discussed.

When Shiroyama took a seat, he found himself for the first time in quite a while next to the president of Hinode Beverage, who had already dangled the new health drink commercial that had gone on air last week as a conversation starter. “That monster that goes dancing by, it’s pretty weird, no?” “The monster’s supposed to be from Saturn.” “Oh, really?” “Now I get it, that’s why it’s