Chapter 988

North Kyushu Women's Prison sits on a gentle slope in Kokura Minami Ward, Kitakyushu City, Fukuoka Prefecture, surrounded by low hills and farmland; gray concrete walls loom dull and solid under the April sun.

Coiled razor wire runs along the walltop, and a watchtower stands at regular intervals, silhouettes occasionally moving inside.

This prison holds roughly four hundred female inmates, one-third of them serious offenders, including several serving life sentences and murderers awaiting death-penalty review.

In many people's imagination, a women's prison is some kind of paradise or harem Ooku.

Uesugi Muneyuki has even read a light novel titled "The Male Prison Guard of the Women's Prison."

You know what he wants to write just from the title.

But in reality, a women's prison is nothing like they imagine.

What a so-called women's prison is really like has been written earlier, so I won't elaborate here, but I must stress: opening an Ooku inside the Metropolitan Police Department is indeed feasible, but if someone actually wants to open an Ooku in a women's prison, you can only say their brain has something seriously wrong with it.

The people locked up in here are criminals, bro!

Japan is, in its bones, a country both conservative and progressive; conservative in that they still follow the tradition of "women sing, men die" — normal struggles generally don't involve women and children; progressive in that they also follow the international trend of women's rights and gender preferential treatment — feminism is carved into the bones of many an old geezer's existing legal system.

The famous German lawyer JK Luo Xiang once said: the law's protection is protection of women; sentencing standards for men cannot be applied to women.

Under such circumstances, what kind of people are the female inmates who still get sentenced and sent to prison — I don't need to spell it out, right?

The prison arranged Uesugi and Shirakawa's arrival very discreetly; the Metropolitan Police Department had already given a heads-up, and they slipped in quietly.

A female prison guard in a dark blue uniform waited inside the main gate; after verifying their IDs, she led them through three iron gates, across a neatly trimmed courtyard where a few early cherry trees stood, petals rustling down onto the stone path — the only soft color between these gray iron bars.

They were taken into a visitation room of about ten square meters; a metal chair bolted to the floor sat on each side of a long table. An explosion-proof glass window was set into one wall, through which the next room could be seen.

After about three minutes, the door next door opened and a female inmate was brought in. She looked around forty, slender, gaunt-faced, with deep-set eyes yet a calm gaze.

Her hair was cut very short, revealing a clean forehead and distinct brow ridges.

She wasn't particularly familiar with Uesugi Muneyuki — clearly she'd already been inside for several years; in fact, a women's prison is relatively relaxed compared to a men's prison — evenings after dinner there's plenty of free time and they can even watch TV.

But she was very familiar with Mai Xuejie.

Uesugi Muneyuki watched her through the glass; Mai Xuejie sat beside him, holding a thin file folder stamped "Metropolitan Police Department · Special Mission Division" on the cover.

The meeting was shorter than expected.

Uesugi Muneyuki briefly stated their purpose.

"No need to play dumb with me; I know what you're here to ask. That scroll — I found it in an old warehouse at Kochi Port, wrapped in dried-fish packaging paper; obviously someone left it there on purpose. After reading it I understood what the three people I killed were all about. They said I don't deserve to live in this world; actually I never felt I deserved to either. But that paper said: the Old Gods don't judge anyone. He merely watches."

"Old Gods — which Old God?" Mai Xuejie asked.

She lifted her gaze and glanced at Mai Xuejie: "At the time I knew someone outside was forging the path of the New Gods; I only heard — the Old Gods might not be dead, just asleep. Venuśka, that's what they call Him. God of Nature. The vicissitudes of nature put Him to sleep for a very, very long time, no longer of any use. But He's still there, like a ruin sunk at the bottom of the sea."

"Venuśka, in the North, in Russia, at the end of the wilderness, in the endless abyss —"

Mai Xuejie fell silent for a moment; she lowered her eyes to the file in the folder: "Your death-penalty review has been submitted; the Supreme Court shows no abnormalities so far, but because you're a woman, the Ministry of Justice most likely won't readily approve execution — if what you say is true —"

The female inmate smiled: "That's enough; I'm not afraid of death. Just felt that if this paper could reach the hands of someone who understands, maybe it could do some good — but the rest was taken away afterward, and I don't know where it went."

Uesugi Muneyuki watched her through the glass; after a long while he gave a slight nod: "It will reach the hands of someone who understands. Rest assured."

The visitation ended.

The prison guard took the female inmate back to the cell block.

As she turned, her posture was straight, her stride composed — not at all like someone awaiting death-penalty review, more like someone who'd finished a task and could finally rest.

True enough; these people act with impunity — the Japanese care about international opinion; if the Minister of Justice executes a female death-row inmate it'll likely cause huge controversy, so politicians generally won't go that far.

What can you do to me?

When Uesugi Muneyuki and Shirakawa Mai walked out the prison gate, April sunlight fell on the gray concrete walls; Uesugi Muneyuki fears the sun, shielding his eyes with one hand: "We can't stay passive like this; we'd better take the initiative!"

"Take the initiative?" Mai Xuejie blinked, then looked somewhat amused: "How exactly? People of the Inner World are all glass cannons — high offense, shatter on contact. We can't exactly drag the Special Mission Division to raid every cult hideout — or are you dropping the act and planning indiscriminate slaughter? You'd better worry — you're not afraid to die, but Sakura and Asuka and the others —"

"No need to raid hideouts. What we lack is intel. Where did that Bible of the Flesh the cultists use come from? Who's spreading it? How far has it spread? Is there a unified organization behind it? We don't know a single one of those. If Sakura hadn't infiltrated them last night, we wouldn't even know their true identities." Uesugi Muneyuki said: "Remember the Yonezawa City case? The one with Nishino Miki?"

Mai Xuejie was silent for a bit: "So where do you want to start?"

The corner of Uesugi Muneyuki's mouth curled up slightly: "The entertainment industry."

Mai Xuejie raised an eyebrow: "The entertainment industry? The flood washed away the Dragon King Temple? One family killing its own?"

"The entertainment industry is where human consciousness is most concentrated. Idols' concerts, variety shows' emotional manipulation, collective revelry on social media — that's the hottest breeding ground for the collective unconscious. If we're tracing who's exploiting this concept, starting from those places is the most logical." Uesugi Muneyuki grinned and nodded: "Why else would I have promoted Meng Shao Zhi? That guy — this is exactly when he gets used!"

"At the entertainment industry, declare war! At Soul Agency, declare war! At Kansai Johnny's Office, declare war! At Stardust, at Horipro, at Ken-on Office, declare war! At YKC48, Yoshimoto Kogyo, LDH, Amuse, Avex, Sony, declare war!" Uesugi Muneyuki said with boiling passion.

"——Soul Agency is MY agency, Junior Student; you say that again and tonight it's ten times for you, eight for me, one each for Asuka and Sakura, allocated as needed." Mai Xuejie crossed her arms, her radiant beautiful face smiling dangerously.

"Fine, listen to me — we — do this and that, such and such —"

Meanwhile, Tokyo · Nagatacho.

————

February's cold wave had long passed, but April in Tokyo still carried a hint of spring's fickle chill.

Inside the Prime Minister's Office on the third floor of the Prime Minister's Official Residence, heavy rosewood desks were piled with documents; Nagatacho's cherry blossoms were in bloom, petals fluttering down along both banks of the moat all the way to the seventh division, pale pink petals occasionally blown onto the windowsill by the wind.

Five people sat in the office.

In the central seat, Finance Minister Hanzawa leaned back, tall and lean, his angular face projecting an imposing aura.

He wore a dark gray suit, tie knotted impeccably; beneath his shirt collar his taut neck muscles were faintly visible — especially his eyes, forever brimming with fighting spirit.

Finance Minister Hanzawa is just over fifty; previously the youngest president in Tokyo Central Bank's history, known for toughness and decisiveness.

Just three days ago, incumbent Prime Minister Oowada formally resigned, taking responsibility for various major cases and scandals.

By Japanese political convention, before a formal party leadership election, a heavyweight from the ruling party temporarily assumes the acting Prime Minister post.

But the problem now is, nobody dares touch this hot potato for the moment.

After three rounds of closed-door negotiations among party factions, the post was finally handed to Finance Minister Hanzawa — because he "won't make too many moves before the year-end general election"; they'll wait until the year-end party president election, reshuffles, and various ryotei secret meetings, then put forward a new candidate.

Hanzawa was supposed to be just a transitional figure, a "caretaker" guarding the Prime Minister's seat for the various factions until the year-end election.

But Hanzawa clearly doesn't think so.

He had just assumed office as acting Prime Minister when he immediately summoned all the core figures.

"Our national debt has reached 260% of GDP!" Acting Prime Minister Hanzawa's voice was forceful, his expression stern — like a Draven player's older brother: "This is the worst level among all developed nations. Every year, interest payments alone consume one-fifth of the national budget. We're using one huge, ever-heavier bubble to replace another older, heavier bubble. If we don't make substantive changes in these two years, in ten or twenty years our national debt interest will exceed the sum of defense spending and education/culture spending."

He lifted his head, and light swept over the remaining four people in the office.

Foreign Minister Isayama sat at the side of the long table, he is about fifty years old this year, tall and thin, with a gaunt face, his hair combed meticulously, when Hanzawa was appointed as finance minister, he personally summoned him to assist in the work, at this moment his mouth slightly opened, the muscles at the corner of his eyes twitched slightly, he spent about five seconds digesting the meaning of Hanzawa's words, then asked in a dry tone: "You mean — actual reduction of national debt?"

"Actually, there is no need to reduce, our country has been experiencing mild, steady, and controllable inflation, the interest on national debt cannot outpace our inflation rate, our overseas assets exceed 5.5 trillion US dollars, immediately available cash exceeds 800 billion US dollars — we have no need to reduce." The foreign minister said slowly.

"Reduce? No." Hanzawa flipped a document to the third page: "Reduction is like cutting meat with a blunt knife, it takes twenty years to see results. What I want to do is use 'replacement' — through structural reform, shift the debt burden from the state to assets. Re-evaluation of state assets, local debt restructuring, adjustment of the asset side of the pension system, and reintroducing inflation targets, mild but firmly implemented."

"For example — divide pensions into three tiers, 65, 70, 75 years old, encourage all elderly to receive pensions only after 75!"

Cabinet Secretary Onoda Kimiaki sat at the end of the table, he is about fifty-six or fifty-seven years old, sturdy build, round face, wearing a pair of gold-rimmed half-frame glasses.

At this moment his body leaned back in a tactical manner, resting against the chair back, his gaze through the lenses fixed steadily on Hanzawa, inside there was no expression, only the vacant look that appears when one is extremely shocked.

Onoda Kanbocho's lips moved, but he did not immediately speak.

After several seconds, he spoke in a tone like something rising from deep below: "Onoda Kakaka — you said these, each item requires amending at least seven current laws, involving jurisdictional reorganization of three ministries, and no single cabinet can complete any two of them within its term. You mean, to push this plan before the year-end election? You're serious?"

Hanzawa leaned forward slightly, placing both hands on the desk surface, backlit, the light in his hawk-like sharp eyes was clearly discernible: "Onoda Minister, I ask you one question — if we do not start now, who will bear the responsibility when national debt exceeds 300%? Me, or someone who will sit in this position one day in the future? Since I have seen this, I will not pretend I did not see it. I do not need to complete the entire plan. I only need to dig the foundation, so that the next person cannot bypass this foundation and continue building upward. If the year-end election brings a new person, he must either continue digging downward, or admit he does not want to dig, but no matter what, everyone will see there is a pit here. This is the meaning of my acting as prime minister."

He paused, then straightened up again, his gaze sweeping over everyone present: "First day, send the core framework of the national debt replacement plan to the Ministry of Finance and the Cabinet Office for comments. Second day, contact the central bank, begin discussing adjustment of inflation targets."

Third day, also summon the media. I want all of Japan to know that the acting prime minister is not here to patch and repair, but to dig the foundation."

"I know this will cause voter dissatisfaction, I know this will provoke intervention from the United States or other countries, but — someone must do these things! We must take the initiative!"

"Who dares to stop me — eye for eye, tooth for tooth, tenfold repayment, no, hundredfold repayment!!!"

The office fell silent for about ten seconds.

The bigwigs of Nagatacho looked at each other, I looked at you, you looked at me.

Finished.

Finally, Foreign Minister Isayama was the first to speak, his voice still dry, but slightly recovered compared to before: " — I will arrange for liaison with the Economic Cooperation Bureau of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, to ensure international rating agencies do not experience excessive fluctuations because of this."

"Very good." Hanzawa said: "Onoda Minister, please prepare for media liaison at the official residence."

"Yes————————" Onoda Kimiaki suddenly began to miss Oowada.

"yesorNo?" Hanzawa said coldly.

"yes————andNo!" Onoda Kimiaki hastily said: "I will convene a media briefing, but I still suggest Hanzawa Kakaka you first consult internal party opinions — "

"That is my business, you are the Cabinet Secretary, you have your own duties!"

Onoda Kimiaki slowly sat upright, his gaze had recovered focus from the vacant state, but still carried a complex expression between reverence and apprehension — "this person might really go ahead and do it."

He adjusted his glasses, nodded: " — I will go arrange this now."

This guy Hanzawa is crazy!

Former Prime Minister Oowada — did his brain get stuffed with natto or fried tofu, to let this person become acting prime minister?

Onoda Kimiaki doesn't even know who to consult, how to stop him.

Suddenly, a thought popped into his mind.

Why not, go for a big case!