Tokyo Literary Masters: Starting from the Late 1980s

Chapter 185 Nobody knows whether tomorrow or an accident will come first.

Kentaro Matsui saw the program in his rented cheap apartment.

The heating in the room wasn't working well, and the cold wind seeping in through the cracks in the window made the old newspapers on the corner of the table tremble slightly.

On the television screen, Shunichi Takahashi, dressed in a sharp suit, sat in the center of a brightly lit studio.

He was surrounded by a host, an economist, and a real estate researcher.

A line of text appeared at the bottom of the screen.

Shunichi Takahashi, Deputy Director of the Market Strategy Office at Sumitomo Bank.

At this point, the host asked Shunichi Takahashi how he viewed the recent panic among readers about the real estate market caused by his novel "The Collapsing Tower".

Takahashi Shunichi first gave a restrained smile, as if he was very reluctant to say anything too harsh, and said, "Kitahara Iwao is my college classmate, everyone knows that."

"So I probably know better than many people how good he is at amplifying the shadows in reality."

Hearing Takahashi Shunichi's words, Matsui Kentaro frowned slightly.

However, on TV, Shunichi Takahashi continued calmly, "He was like this during his university years."

"He is very intelligent and observant. While others may see hesitation in an ordinary family, he can write about despair within it."

While others might see a market correction, he could write a funeral for an entire era.

"That's certainly a writer's talent."

At this point, Shunichi Takahashi chuckled softly.

The smile was faint, yet it carried an unsettling sense of superiority.

"The problem is that writers can gain applause through fear, but ordinary families have to pay a real price for fear."

Upon hearing this, the host's eyes lit up, and he quickly replied, "Mr. Takahashi, are you saying that 'The Collapsing Tower' exaggerates real-world risks?"

Shunichi Takahashi shook his head slightly and said, "I don't want to use the word 'exaggeration'."

"All I can say is that Kitahara is now a writer who is in a very high position. He has royalties, overseas rights, and publishers who bear the risks for him. If he writes a pessimistic story, at most it will only cause controversy."

"But what about ordinary families?"

"They gave up buying a house because of this book, and years later they realized they had missed a golden opportunity. Will Kitahara cover their losses?"

As the words fell, the studio fell silent for a moment.

The economist next to him immediately nodded, as if he had finally gotten a chance to elaborate.

However, Shunichi Takahashi continued, "What worries me even more is that Kitahara is all too aware of his influence."

"He knows that the public is emotionally sensitive right now, and he also knows that panic is the easiest thing to spread."

"At a time like this, portraying banking, real estate, and property financing as an impending disaster is no longer just a matter of literary expression."

"This is a very irresponsible incitement."

Upon hearing this, Kentaro Matsui sat up abruptly.

In the television broadcast, Shunichi Takahashi maintained that gentle yet deceptively sophisticated demeanor, but his words were like poisoned knives.

"I have never denied Kitahara's literary talent, but talent should never become a privilege to exploit social panic."

"A scholar hiding in the safety of his study can easily gain fame and fortune by simply tapping a few keys on his typewriter and casually announcing the end of an era."

"Those who truly dedicate themselves to maintaining the economic lifeline of this country and protecting the assets of ordinary families amidst daily market fluctuations are us financial professionals who have to struggle in the real world."

This scathing remark instantly aroused the host, who immediately pressed, "So you believe that Kitahara Iwao's new book is deliberately undermining public confidence?"

Upon hearing this, Shunichi Takahashi deliberately suppressed his smile.

Then, staring into the camera as if he had exercised great restraint, he delivered a shocking statement that could incite the entire society: "I just want to urge everyone watching on television to recognize a cruel truth."

"Novelists can earn huge royalties by fabricating a fictional disaster, and even if Japan's economy continues to boom tomorrow, they will still be winners who make a profit."

"But what about you? If you are scared back into the mire of poverty because of the intimidation of a novel, and miss out on the once-in-a-century feast of wealth of the Great Japanese Empire —"

Shunichi Takahashi twitched the corners of his mouth, revealing a condescending and hypocritical pity.

"While others are moving into new homes in the port area and enjoying the doubling of their assets, that lofty literary giant will never come to pay for your poverty."

Upon seeing this, Kentaro Matsui slammed the remote control on the table.

With a muffled thud, the teacup on the table trembled violently.

"asshole----"

Kentaro Matsui stared intently at the television screen, forcing out a suppressed curse through clenched teeth.

The pitying and compassionate face of Takahashi Shunichi on the screen made him feel a strong sense of nausea.

Since the Ginrin-sou gathering, Matsui Kentaro has been secretly keeping an eye on the so-called "prime location" properties that Takahashi is pushing so hard to promote.

The actual data is not as constantly fluctuating as touted on television. Recent trend charts have already shown strange fluctuations, and even hint at a downward trend.

Seeing this situation, an overwhelming sense of lingering fear welled up inside me.

If he hadn't heeded Kitahara Iwa's warning that night, if he had impulsively taken on that high-leverage loan that far exceeded his ability to pay, he would probably be a lamb to the slaughter on the eve of a market crash.

However, the very person who nearly pushed himself into the meat grinder is now sitting in the studio, brazenly distorting the truth and even using Kitahara Iwa's identity to continue pushing more unsuspecting families off the cliff.

This anger at being blatantly fooled by capital drove Kentaro Matsui to pull out his phone book and dial the news hotlines of major newspapers one by one.

He was eager to tear off Takahashi's disguise, to reveal the truth about the gathering to the public, and to prove that it was precisely these bank loan officers who talked about macroeconomics who were driving ordinary people to their deaths.

However, the reality was like a bucket of ice water.

The media's attitude was surprisingly consistent: the editors either dealt with the matter perfunctorily in a businesslike manner, or, after smelling these popular names, they were like bloodthirsty sharks, only concerned with digging up more exciting private gossip.

A veteran journalist interrupted him with a laugh, stating bluntly that the observations of a "regular classmate" at a dinner party were simply insufficient to shake the current financial discourse.

The words "ordinary classmate" struck Matsui like a heavy hammer, silencing him completely.

He sadly realized that between an ordinary, powerless office worker and the vast political, business, and media alliance, there stood an insurmountable class barrier.

The little bit of truth they hold in their hands is as light as a feather in the face of the media machine dominated by capital.

In this suffocating sense of powerlessness, late that night, Kentaro Matsui dialed Iwao Kitahara's number.

The phone rang a few times before being answered.

Kitahara Iwa's voice came through the receiver.

"Who is it?"

Kentaro Matsui gripped the microphone tightly, his dry throat making a labored sound: "Kitahara, it's me, Matsui."

Kentaro Matsui paused briefly, as if trying to suppress the pent-up frustration in his chest, before getting straight to the point: "I saw Takahashi on TV."

97

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

"What he said was really awful."

Kentaro Matsui poured his heart out into the microphone, as if trying to release all the pent-up frustration he had just experienced on television.

"He keeps using the fact that we were classmates to make a fuss, and he's spreading the idea that you don't understand finance and only know how to create panic."

"Kitahara, I want to speak up for you!"

"Even if I have to pick any third-rate tabloid, I'll expose Takahashi's true colors that day as he promoted high-leverage loans and the truth about how he deceived everyone!"

Before he could finish speaking, a laugh came from the receiver.

That calm, unwavering chuckle instantly choked Matsui Kentaro, leaving all the prepared remarks stuck in his throat.

Kitahara Iwao spoke up, "Don't go looking for reporters, Matsui."

"But----"

"Once you stand up, the media will never care about the truth. They will either portray you as a fanatical reader bewitched by the novel, or they will simply portray you as a shield that I pushed out to protect myself."

Kentaro Matsui opened his mouth, but couldn't find any words to refute it.

At this point, Kitahara Iwa continued, "What Takahashi desires most right now is to reduce this conflict over the fundamentals of the national economy to a personal grudge between university classmates."

"If you step in now, you'll be fulfilling his wish."

Hearing this, Kentaro Matsui gritted his teeth and asked, "Are we just going to let him distort the truth in front of a national audience?"

"It won't be long."

The faint rustling sound of papers turning over came from the other end of the receiver.

"I will respond in my own way over the next few days."

Kentaro Matsui was stunned: "You're going to be on that financial program? Or give an exclusive interview?"

"No need for that. Arguing with someone like that is giving him too much credit."

Kitahara Iwa said, "In this era, the stronger the words of rebuttal, the deeper the imprint they leave on people's hearts."

Upon hearing these words, the burning anger in Matsui Kentaro's heart miraculously subsided.

"Kitahara————"

Kentaro Matsui's Adam's apple bobbed, and he continued, "I really want to do something for you."

The background noise on the other end of the phone went silent for a moment.

"You've already helped."

"7

Kitahara Iwa's voice softened slightly: "You ultimately didn't sign that purchase agreement. That's enough."

Kentaro Matsui held the phone in a daze, his eyes inexplicably getting hot.

After a long silence, he solemnly replied into the receiver, "I understand."

After hanging up the phone, Kentaro Matsui sat alone in the dimly lit living room, looking up at the television that was still replaying financial news programs.

On the screen, Shunichi Takahashi still maintained his fake, confident smile, but at this moment, that face was no longer so glaring to Matsui.

Because Kitahara Iwa is about to make his move.

A few days later, as soon as the latest issue of "New Tide" hit the market, readers who opened the cover were immediately overwhelmed by an invisible sense of oppression.

The preface, which was originally printed with the editor's message, was left entirely blank by Shinchosha, an unprecedented move.

On this page, which resembles a cold, white, high wall, are three paragraphs of text without any preface or endorsement. The wide spacing between the paragraphs seems to force every reader to slow down their breathing: "When a bank needs to critique novels to prove the safety of its assets, what it truly fears is never the words themselves."

When a loan officer repeatedly emphasizes that he is the author's classmate and uses this relationship to persuade a customer to sign a loan, the customer should ask not who he knows, but what exactly he is selling to you.

Assets that appreciate in value are called assets; assets that can only be passed on to the next borrower are called bombs. Before you put pen to paper, please look down and see which kind you are holding.

The signature consists of only the last three characters: Kitahara Iwa.

After the opening note of "New Tide" circulated, the reaction in Xiaguan was faster than the outside world had expected.

Inside the grey granite building of the Ministry of Finance, Takeo Kishimoto spread a magazine on the conference table.

None of the bureaucrats and bank executives sitting at the table thought it was just literary criticism.

The first part stabbed the bank, the second part stabbed Shunichi Takahashi, and the third part stabbed the entire debt chain maintained by real estate mortgages and housing loan financing.

The most troublesome thing is that Kitahara Iwa didn't write down any names that could be easily used against him.

This article avoids mentioning the specific names of Sumitomo Bank, the Ministry of Finance, and even Takahashi himself, directly thwarting their attempt to use this as an opportunity to launch a defamation lawsuit.

However, it is precisely this cold-blooded blank space that transforms into an invisible slap, precisely striking the face of every madman deeply immersed in this bubble game.

Kishimoto Kenjiro remained silent for a long time before raising his hand to take off his glasses and saying, "Kitahara won't stop."

No one responded in the meeting room.

The National Tax Service can no longer continue down this path.

The search of the apartment in the port area was witnessed by British publishers and Sir Clarendon.

Using the same methods again will only push the issue directly to the diplomatic and international media.

The meeting room fell silent.

The bank executives at the table exchanged glances, none of them willing to let the beggar speak.

After a moment, a young employee asked in a low voice, "Section Chief Kishimoto, what about next—"

Kishimoto Kenjiro looked up and tapped him.

His gaze was calm, yet it made the young employee, Xi Shao, swallow his words.

"Bring the bow?"

Kishimoto Ken'o slowly took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with a handkerchief.

"There are many unexpected events in this country every day."

Kishimoto Kenjiro spoke in a low voice, and his tone could even be described as gentle.

Traffic accidents, gas leaks, drunken brawls, and sudden bathing behavior by mentally unstable individuals.

As Kishimoto Takeo finished speaking, the air in the conference room gradually grew colder.

The faces of several senior bank officials turned pale.

At this moment, Kishimoto Kenjiro put his glasses back on and his gaze fell back on the book "Shincho" on the table.

"Kitahara Iwa is too conspicuous now."

"The more conspicuous it is, the less you should let anything sound like Shih-an is getting better."

The young employee's Adam's apple bobbed, and he said in a low voice, "You mean—"

However, Kishimoto Kenjiro did not respond to him, but simply closed "Shincho" and lightly pressed his fingertip on the cover.

"I don't mean anything ugly."

"I just think that it's not surprising that someone who always likes to stand in the spotlight might occasionally get blown over by the wind."

At this moment, the conference room fell completely silent.

Everyone present understood Kishimoto Kenjiro's subtext.

Since all the overt methods have become ineffective, the only remaining options are to rely on those channels that will never be written into the meeting minutes.

After a long while, Kishimoto Kenjiro raised his head and said in his usual businesslike tone, "If there really is some kind of unfortunate accident, then it's just an accident."

"After all, nobody knows whether tomorrow or an accident will come first."

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