Chapter 57: Shunobu Aoyama Is Truly Japan’s Good Fortune

In the early hours of that day, three division heads of the Noguchi-kai, accompanied by more than a dozen core members and over a hundred associates, all armed, headed straight for Kanagawa Prefecture. Naturally, the Yamakawa family would never stage the confrontation within the city, so they intercepted them on the highway. The two groups clashed on a stretch of road at the border between Tokyo and Kanagawa Prefecture. Because the Noguchi-kai was leaderless, divided, and each with their own agenda, they were ultimately routed by the Yamakawa family, who had been waiting in ambush, and fled in disarray.

The next morning, Yamakawa Kazuki led his people to affix the family crest of the Yamakawa on the signs of two entertainment venues in Kabukicho that had been acquired in advance. Every gang has its own emblem, typically displayed at their headquarters, branches, and businesses; some even wear it pinned to their chests, as they are officially registered organizations—legitimate businesses, after all.

This street had originally belonged to the Noguchi-kai, and this move signaled that the Yamakawa family was openly laying claim to their territory. That morning, a young man turned himself in at the Shinjuku police station, confessing to kidnapping and murdering the new head of Noguchi-kai, Matsushita Yukiyuki, over a debt owed to loan sharks.

With a living person gone missing, the police were bound to investigate. So, whether to minimize trouble for themselves or for the authorities, the Yamakawa family had to hand over a volunteer to confess, giving society an answer. The scapegoat was almost always a peripheral member of the organization. After serving a few years in prison, they would become a core member with a monthly salary, which is why many aspiring gangsters preferred this shortcut.

Thus, the syndicates never lacked for fall guys. After all, while the legitimate economy was struggling, the shadow economy was thriving, and the gangs’ core members earned high wages—quite an attractive prospect. Especially for those delinquent kids in the bosozoku, who dreamt of nothing more than becoming full-fledged gangsters.

Aoi’s face darkened when he heard the news. He hadn’t expected that Matsushita Yukiyuki, with whom he’d been drinking just the night before, would be dead and decapitated the very next day. He was not only furious but deeply unsettled. Even with the looming bank robbery case, Aoi couldn’t concentrate on work and decided to go out for some quiet.

But in the corridor, he ran into Aoyama Hidenobu. At once, his expression grew uncomfortable.

“Section Chief Aoi,” Aoyama Hidenobu bowed respectfully and said apologetically, “My behavior the other night was rather excessive. Not only did I offend you, but I also hurt Matsushita-kun. I hope you can mediate between us and arrange a meeting, so I can apologize to him in person.”

Aoi’s face grew thunderous. Aoyama Hidenobu was clearly threatening and intimidating him; Matsushita Yukiyuki’s death was likely on his orders. After all, this was the same madman who had shot the previous chief of the criminal division without a hint of remorse.

Aoi had thought Aoyama’s harsh words that night were just posturing, but had never imagined that he would actually kill the dog Aoi had just raised—truly insane!

“Section Chief Aoi?” Aoyama called.

Aoi snapped back to himself, his throat dry and a twitch at his lip. “I’ve just received some unfortunate news. Matsushita-kun was murdered, so there’s no need for you to apologize.”

He decided not to lower himself to the level of such a madman. After all, he was a reasonable man.

“What?” Aoyama Hidenobu feigned shock and disbelief. “How could that be? We were drinking together just the other night, and now… Ah, life is so unpredictable. Section Chief Aoi, you are always so impartial in your work, surely you have offended many unsavory characters. Please take care when you’re out and about.”

He always seemed so concerned for his superior.

“Thank you for your concern, Aoyama-kun.” Aoi felt a mixture of fear, anger, and indignation. He forced a strained smile, glanced at his watch, and said, “I have an appointment soon, so I’ll be going now.”

With that, he hurried off, head down.

“Take care, Section Chief Aoi.” Aoyama Hidenobu bowed, watching Aoi’s retreating back, then slowly straightened, a sneer curling on his lips.

Not even brave enough to kill.

And you want to snatch food from my mouth?

In the days that followed, although there were still frequent skirmishes between the Yamakawa family and the Noguchi-kai, no more large-scale clashes erupted. Even so, the ongoing conflict cast a dark shadow over Kabukicho’s public order. The police received frequent emergency calls.

Warned by the Metropolitan Police Department, the Sumiyoshi-kai and Inagawa-kai finally intervened, each sending representatives to facilitate negotiations and temporarily end the dispute.

The moment the two groups sat down at the negotiating table, the Yamakawa family had already won, no matter what concessions they might need to make. Of course, this also meant a blood feud with the Noguchi-kai. But who in the underworld is afraid of making enemies? It’s the same everywhere: resources are limited—if you take more, others get less. Conflict and grudges are perpetual; only the methods differ.

That afternoon, the investigation into the bank robbery finally made progress. Thanks to a hefty reward, the owner of a restaurant opposite the bank came forward with a lead. According to his account, four suspicious customers had been eating there that morning. When he went into the kitchen, they were still there; when he returned, they were gone, and the bank robbery took place.

Based on his description, police drew up sketches of the four individuals. But with no way to identify them, they couldn’t issue wanted notices and had to rely on door-to-door inquiries or ask underworld contacts for information.

It was a labor-intensive and clumsy method, but many cases were solved that way—technology wasn’t as advanced as it would be decades later.

Aoyama Hidenobu handed a copy of the sketches to Yamakawa Kazuki, instructing him to have his men look into it as well.

As for himself, he headed to the Nohara family’s home, ready to steal a moment of pleasure from his busy life.

Nohara Iri was not at home but hurried back from the office after receiving Aoyama’s call.

“Mr. Aoyama, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting.” She rushed into the living room, not even bothering to remove her heels, slightly out of breath as she stood before him, her suit jacket tightly straining, as if the buttons might burst at any moment.

It was hard not to want to reach out and support her.

Aoyama gestured. “Sit.”

“Yes!” Nohara Iri bowed, then knelt beside him, having slipped off her heels, her small feet in flesh-toned stockings padding softly across the floor.

Breathing in her faint perfume, Aoyama ran his hand along her leg, savoring the silky texture—a moment of pure contentment. “Do you know about automated teller machines?” he asked.

“Yes,” Nohara Iri replied softly, lowering her head.

Though still a relatively new invention, those in business were no strangers to them. Aoyama explained, “Find a factory as soon as possible to develop a machine similar to an ATM. The main function is for customers to handle loan applications by themselves, with a built-in camera for monitoring—ideally, it should support remote communication as well. Discuss the details with the technical team, but confidentiality is crucial. Once you find a suitable factory, bring the owner and technicians to meet me.”

In his memory, this machine would debut next year, which meant the technology already existed.

Currently, all loans were processed face-to-face. Many Japanese, too proud to ask for help, would rather eat plain rice than borrow money, so the lending market still had vast untapped potential.

In his previous life, when this machine appeared, it propelled Takefuji’s loan business to new heights. Now, in early 1992, if he didn’t act first, the opportunity would be lost.

Of course, the profits this device would bring were astronomical, and Aoyama knew he couldn’t monopolize it alone. He would have to share the spoils and find a powerful backer.

Developing the machine would take time, so that could proceed in parallel with seeking protection. Civil servants in Japan were barred from engaging in business, but not from inventing things. When the patent was registered, the licensing fees alone would be a goldmine.

No, he thought, he wasn’t exploiting the Japanese—he was doing them a service, bringing them blessings.

“Yes! Mr. Aoyama, you truly have great wisdom!” Nohara Iri’s eyes lit up as she realized how lucrative the machine could be, gazing at Aoyama with admiration.

Aoyama laughed heartily, pulling her into a fierce embrace and kissing her. “The economy is in such dire straits; so many families are suffering. I have a simple wish: to help everyone borrow and afford loans, to help them through these dark times!”

As for those who couldn’t repay? Well, then, Mr. Aoyama would show a different face.

When you were in trouble, only I lent you money and solved your problem. And now you claim you can’t pay me back? How shameless.

See you in court.

After all, Nohara Finance Corporation was a legitimate company; all interest rates were within the legal limits.

And of course, they could sue anyone who refused to pay their debts.

“Truly, Mr. Aoyama, you are a great man—not only have you helped me, but now you’re helping so many citizens weather this time of economic hardship,” Nohara Iri breathed, her words fragrant and gentle.

A woman’s praise is the best aphrodisiac for a man. Amid her cries of surprise, he pressed her to the floor, for one must seize the joys of life whenever possible.

“Ah! Mr. Aoyama, wait… mmph…”

Nohara Iri tried to say something in panic, but he silenced her.

To avoid any unfortunate mishaps, Aoyama patiently worked to rouse her desire—a gentleman bides his time, waiting for the right moment.

Suddenly, his expression froze.

He had touched a family register booklet.

“I’m so sorry,” Nohara Iri quickly got up and knelt on the floor, full of apology. “I meant to say something earlier. Of course, if you don’t mind…”

“No need. Since it’s inconvenient, you should rest.” Aoyama cut her off.

He had no interest in experiencing the taste of blood.

Nohara Iri, feeling guilty for ruining the mood, remained kneeling with her head bowed.

Aoyama straightened his clothes, picked up his phone from the table, and walked out without looking back. “Take care of the task I gave you as soon as possible.”

“Yes!” Nohara Iri called after him.

Just as he stepped out, Aoyama’s phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Aoyama, this is Yamakawa Kazuki. I’ve found a lead on the bank robbers.”

“What?” Aoyama quickened his pace and got into his car. “Give me the address.”

Twenty minutes later, Aoyama met Yamakawa, who was already waiting in a private room at a teahouse.

“Mr. Aoyama,” Yamakawa rose to greet him.

Aoyama gestured for him to sit and got straight to the point. “Tell me what happened.”

“Yes,” Yamakawa responded, turning to pick up several photographs, which he offered respectfully with both hands.

“Mr. Aoyama, please take a look at this person.”