Lady Joker, Volume 1, Kaoru Takamura [best affordable ebook reader TXT] 📗

Perhaps this was because day after day in the financial world, Koh was exposed to situations that came perilously close to extortion, or perhaps because, when it concerned his family business, that air he had talked about breathing was shared by those in the shadowy underworld—but in any case, the enigma that was the true Katsumi Koh was peeking out from beneath his veneer of an ordinary salaryman.

And yet, the person who occasionally stopped by the factory, setting his rice crackers on the desk alongside a can of beer, teaching Yo-chan how to use a computer, and laughing as they played TV games together—he was also Katsumi Koh. Even now, his eyes seemed far from wicked. In fact, he seemed as defenseless as a child with no ulterior motives, his legs sprawled out lazily, having let his guard down somewhat.

One side was dangerous, the other was harmless. Put both sides together and, when it came down to it, Monoi did not know what kind of man Koh would be. But Monoi’s plan to extort money from a corporation itself was so far outside of ordinary—in that sense he and Koh were equally menacing.

“Say, Koh. How would you feel about coming up with a plan that ensures we’ll get the money?”

“Drawing up a plan is the same thing as executing it,” Koh said, laughing. His expression turned serious once again. “Before we get to that, I’d like to know your true motive, Monoi-san.”

A reasonable request, Monoi thought. “You may laugh, but this old man just wants to see those who made a fortune suffer. Lately, I’ve been thinking about this more and more. I was born into a family of tenant farmers in Aomori, and the memories have come flooding back . . .”

Koh, listening quietly, stared straight into Monoi’s eyes for the first time that evening. Then he said, “I wouldn’t laugh. I’m a Zainichi, after all.”

Yo-chan returned, and set out the beer and sake he had brought back on the work desk. He had said he wanted to listen, and he feigned ignorance as he sat at the end of the work desk and returned to the task of sharpening his cutting tool. Koh merely glanced at him without saying anything.

Monoi was in no hurry to force a decision from Koh, so instead he went off on a tangent. “By the way, Koh. What would you like to do if you had money?”

“Me?”

Koh stopped, the new can of beer in his hand frozen in midair, and once again he glanced briefly at Monoi. Up close, Monoi stared back at Koh’s single-lidded eyes, the whites showing beneath the iris, and realized that, over these last three and a half years, he had never looked carefully into his face. But there was no distinguishable expression in Koh’s eyes as he returned Monoi’s gaze, and like the sliding fusuma door to an inner drawing room that opens briefly only to close again immediately, he looked away.

“My family operates the kind of business where money comes rolling in everyday, ten or twenty million yen at a time, you know? I’ve never had to wonder what I would do if I had money. Why would I, when money is the only thing I’ve got enough to rot.”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never experienced anything like that.”

“But my folks are different. After the war, they worked twenty hours a day making moonshine and working in the black market until they saved up enough money to start their own business.”

“I see . . .”

“For some reason I don’t see eye to eye with them, so I’ve always worked outside the family. I guess I don’t really know myself.”

Koh stopped speaking abruptly, even though he had been the one to bring his family up—either he wasn’t sure how to explain it concisely or he had lost interest in talking about it. Monoi wasn’t quite sure what Koh was trying to say, but that night he could feel it in his bones, that ill will he had sensed Koh harbored for his people and that he was unable to distance himself from.

“Actually, my grandma is about to die,” Koh said, his tone changing suddenly. He gave a belch that transformed into a big yawn. When he opened his mouth wide, he revealed his beautifully set teeth—a mark of his parents’ thorough attention since he was young. Monoi took notice of such a thing because when he himself had been in the prime of his working life, he had not had the means to fuss over such details, and as a result his daughter Mitsuko’s teeth were riddled with cavities, for which she had held a deep grudge ever since.

“Yes, so I’ve heard. Yo-chan told me.”

“My grandma is the one who controls the bulk of our real estate. The family business uses it and pays rent, but when my grandma dies, her estate will be divided among six brothers, including my dad. All of his brothers are gunning for the right to control the company, so it’s a hell of a situation. True story.”

“Huh.”

“I’m in the finance world, after all. I can’t just cut ties with the family business, but it’s not as if I’m in the Chongryon—you know, the General Association of Korean Residents—and I don’t have any Zainichi relationships either. So it’s getting to be a crucial stage for me too . . . which brings me back to Monoi-san’s plan.”

After a long detour, the conversation had returned to its starting point. Monoi could not immediately grasp how the “crucial stage” that Koh mentioned tied into squeezing money out of a corporation.

“You mean about my plan to extort money from Hinode Beer?”

“Let’s make a deal,” Koh said, leaning forward a bit. His gaze was languid, as if he were still feeling the effects of his recent yawn, but the words that came out of his mouth next were far from languid—they were purely business. “If you’re serious, Monoi-san, I will take on the responsibility of coming up