Reborn in Tokyo: From Heiress to Global Tycoon

Chapter 231. Billion Dollar Toll

February 28, 1990, at nightfall. (Note: This is Washington, D.C. local time.)

Washington, D.C.

The headquarters building of the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC).

Arthur Vance sat behind his walnut desk.

He clasped his hands together, his rough fingertips pressing hard against the layer of bluish stubble that had sprouted on his chin.

On the upper right corner of the desk, an encrypted private line phone with a red federal security rating suddenly started beeping without warning.

Arthur looked away from the mountain of offshore fund tracking files in front of him. He reached out his right hand, grabbed the heavy plastic receiver, and pressed it tightly to his ear.

"I am Arthur Vance."

On the other end of the phone, accompanied by extremely slight satellite signal delay and static noise, William, the economic minister of the U.S. Embassy in Japan, spoke clearly.

"Arthur," William's voice carried an undisguised hint of pleasure, "the door has been opened."

Arthur's back abruptly left the back of the leather swivel chair, and his body leaned forward.

"Ichiro Osawa made his move?" Arthur's voice was low, but his speech suddenly quickened.

"The plenary session of the House of Representatives in Tokyo is being broadcast live on television. Members of the Osawa faction have just publicly demanded from the questioning platform that the Cabinet repeal the Large Retailers Law." William took a sip of water, the sound of the glass hitting the table amplified by the microphone. "Ichiro Osawa has kept his promise. In exchange for our administrative support, he personally put the bill to abolish Japan's retail economic barriers on the table."

"The political leverage is in your hands, Arthur."

William's voice turned extremely cold and hard.

"Washington needs to immediately deliver on its promise of 'protection' to its allies. Go get your special approval documents. Lock up, with interest, all the funds the Saionji family has hidden overseas on American soil."

A monotonous dial tone came through the receiver.

Arthur Vance slowly put down the phone.

He opened the drawer on his right and took out a pre-prepared investigation report, dozens of pages long. The report detailed all the data characteristics of SA Investment's (SA Investment) covert accumulation of funds in the United States extreme ultraviolet light source laboratory and multi-axis machine tool companies over the past six months, using hundreds of Cayman Islands umbrella trust accounts.

Because the other party has perfectly implemented legal segregation of equity holdings, this report would not be able to obtain a legal freezing order in a regular federal court.

But that's irrelevant now.

Ichiro Osawa's outburst in the Japanese Diet provided a political endorsement. This was tantamount to the powerful faction within Japan's ruling party proactively submitting a diplomatic request to the United States for "assistance in investigating monopoly capital."

Assisting allies in managing their internal affairs has always been an undeniable obligation of the United States.

Arthur grabbed the report and strode out of the office.

Twenty minutes later. Inside the confidential office of the Committee on National Security Review (CFIUS).

A directive bearing the dark red seal of the highest level of federal government administration was handed to Arthur Vance.

Emergency National Security Freeze Order.

Arthur stared at the bright red mark at the end of the document and clenched the document in his hand.

He had waited far too long for this moment. The humiliation he suffered last fall in the top-floor office of SA Investment in Manhattan, and the arrogant attitude of the other party who took advantage of legal loopholes to forcibly seize his core technology patents right in front of him, had to be thoroughly settled today.

"Get the car ready. Head to the airport."

Arthur gave orders to the federal agents behind him.

"Target: New York."

……

Lower Manhattan, New York.

The icy rain, mixed with the fierce winds blowing from the Atlantic, lashed wildly against the towering classical buildings lining Wall Street. The sky was as overcast as dusk.

Three black Chevrolet armored SUVs screeched to a halt on a flooded road in front of a windowless, fortress-like building less than two blocks from the New York Stock Exchange.

The tires screeched as they rubbed against the asphalt road.

The car doors opened simultaneously.

Arthur Vance, wearing a dark gray windproof coat, stepped out of the car through the muddy ground. Behind him followed eight fully armed federal marshals wearing bulletproof vests with the bright yellow letters USMS (United States Marshals Service) printed on them.

This is CHIPS, the New York clearing house. It processes trillions of dollars in global interbank dollar settlements daily, controlling the most crucial physical lifeline of the global financial system.

Arthur ignored the security personnel's attempts to stop him at the door. Two burly federal marshals stepped forward and forcefully pushed the security personnel against the walls on either side.

"Federal agents! Under orders to carry out national security directives!"

Arthur, holding the document bearing the CFIUS seal aloft, strode into the lobby of the clearing center.

Inside the hall, the financial clerks and suited clearing representatives who had been bustling about were startled into stopping in their tracks by the sudden appearance of armed men. Several Wall Street executives who had been talking in hushed tones instinctively shut their mouths and stiffly stepped aside, afraid of blocking the way.

The heavy combat boots pounded on the marble floor, their chaotic and oppressive footsteps echoing through the empty hall.

Those usually self-important elites in the financial world, faced with the bright yellow bulletproof vests and exposed pistol grips of the federal marshals, dared not utter a word of questioning. They held their breath, watching the group walk through the hall with uncertain and bewildered expressions.

The group moved with impunity, taking the private elevator directly to the core control center located on the second basement level.

The bulletproof glass door was roughly pushed open by the bailiffs.

Inside the control center, hundreds of large server racks emitted an unsettling low-frequency hum. The air was thick with the pungent smell of ozone and static dust. Dozens of senior operators sat in front of screens, their fingers flying across keyboards, processing dollar clearing instructions pouring in from all over the world.

The head of the clearing center stood up from behind the control panel. He looked at the group of menacing intruders, his brows furrowed tightly.

"Commander Vance." The supervisor clearly recognized this SEC "mad dog." He strode forward, his tone filled with obvious displeasure and warning, "This is CHIPS' core data area. No subpoena from any federal court allows you to force your way in with armed personnel..."

"I think we don't need any court summons."

Arthur Vance interrupted his supervisor abruptly. He slammed the CFIUS directive heavily onto the metal surface of the control panel.

"Sir, national security directives take precedence over everything else."

The supervisor's gaze fell on the dark red stamp. His pupils contracted sharply. His Adam's apple bobbed laboredly as he looked up at Arthur.

"Commander Vance, are you aware of the consequences of forcibly interfering with the underlying settlement routing? This would severely damage Wall Street's global financial credibility."

"The reputation of the United States does not need to be maintained by condoning financial espionage." Arthur's gaze was as sharp as a knife, fixed on the supervisor's face. "Tell your operators to get out of the way. Immediately."

Two federal marshals stepped forward, their hands resting on the grips of their sidearms at their waists.

The supervisor gritted his teeth and remained silent for two seconds. He turned his head and made an extremely reluctant gesture to the chief operator in front of the control panel.

The operator stood up and stepped back.

Arthur Vance strode to the control panel, placed his hands on the surface, and stared intently at the screens flashing complex green codes.

He pulled a folded piece of paper from the inside pocket of his trench coat, on which was written a long string of offshore account codes, accurate to the single digit.

"SA Investment has a bridge loan of up to one billion US dollars. This money is currently being prepared to be transferred through an umbrella trust's related account to an optical laboratory in Europe for the asset acquisition."

"I've checked the queue sequence. This cross-border settlement of funds will be transmitted through your underlying routing system within the next three minutes."

He turned his head and stared at the sweating operator.

"Modify the digital routing code for this fund. Force the receiving address to be changed to a special escrow account of the U.S. Treasury Department."

The operator's hands began to tremble violently. He looked to his supervisor for help.

"Commander Vance!" The supervisor's voice instantly rose eight octaves. "This money is legally protected under Cayman Islands offshore trust law! You have no right to forcibly withhold legitimate commercial remittances during the liquidation process!"

"Execute the order!" Arthur stared at his supervisor, his tone cold and hard.

The two bailiffs had already drawn their sidearms halfway out.

The supervisor closed his eyes. He waved his hand weakly.

The operator sat back in his chair. His trembling fingers landed on the keyboard, and he began typing out the long string of low-level tampering commands.

The green data stream on the screen paused briefly.

"Target account located... Funds verified... One billion four million five hundred thousand US dollars." The operator's voice trembled. "Executing routing redirection protocol..."

Arthur Vance's breathing became extremely heavy. He stared intently at the progress bar in the lower right corner of the screen.

In the legal battles of cross-border finance, SA Investment's legal team was capable of delaying any conventional freezing procedure for years. Those one hundred perfectly segregated umbrella trusts were flawless in their legal documentation.

But in the face of the hegemony of a superpower, all the sophisticated legal logic is no match for a single line of mandatory code on the clearing center's control panel.

The hegemony of the United States cannot be challenged.

The progress bar has climbed to 100%.

"Click".

The operator reluctantly pressed the Enter key; he didn't even know why he had to come to work today.

In the center of the screen, the green data packet representing the billion-dollar transnational remittance was forcibly intercepted by a line of red code that was suddenly inserted within the microsecond window of the transmission channel.

The flow of data is forcibly reversed at the underlying logic level.

[Route redirection complete. Funds have been locked up for federal oversight.]

Arthur Vance stared at the line of red confirmation characters that appeared on the screen.

He exhaled a long breath, a breath that had been trapped in his chest for months.

In those microseconds, a massive fortune of one billion dollars was forcibly swallowed up by the brute force of the state apparatus, turning into a bunch of dead numbers locked in American servers.

……

At the same time.

Marunouchi, Tokyo.

Saionji Industrial Headquarters, Underground Core Strategy Room.

Executive Director Endo was standing beside a huge rosewood table, holding a top-secret summary report on the progress of establishing an offshore SPV (Special Purpose Entity) matrix.

To prepare for the frenzied buying spree in the domestic asset market after the bubble bursts, these shell funds hidden in the Cayman Islands and Virgin Islands must be legally airtight.

Sudden.

A blinding red alarm light flashed on the huge LCD screen directly in front of the strategy room.

The piercing electronic buzzer instantly shattered the deathly silence in the room.

【Warning：SA Offshore Fund 07... Transaction Intercepted.】

【Status: Frozen by US Federal Reserve Routing Protocol.】

Executive Director Endo's actions have stalled.

He looked up, his expression grave, at the line of red English warning flashing in the center of the screen.

One billion US dollars.

The long string of numbers representing real money instantly changed from a normal green on the screen to a lifeless, deathly gray.

Even knowing beforehand that he would lose this money, Endo still felt his heart bleed when it actually happened. That was a full billion dollars, a massive fortune equivalent to over 140 billion yen.

This bridging fund, originally intended to cover various clandestine expenses in Europe, was forcibly taken away right under their noses, without even a court summons.

However, I don't have time to worry about money now.

Endo took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the real heartache.

In this grand strategic deception, this billion dollars was labeled as a "discarded pawn" from the moment it was placed into that specific independent umbrella trust.

This was an extremely costly, but completely orderly tactical retreat, within the risk reserve budget.

He walked to the control panel and picked up the red encrypted telephone receiver that led directly to New York.

"Frank," Endo's voice was hoarse.

Frank's breathing sounded particularly heavy on the other end of the phone.

"They've made their move, Mr. Endo." Frank took a deep breath on the other end of the line, speaking rapidly. "Washington didn't even go through the public court hearing process. Arthur Vance got the highest level of special approval from CFIUS. He directly cut off the underlying network cable of the New York clearing center."

Frank gritted his teeth.

"One billion. This money no longer belongs to us."

Endo tightened his grip on the receiver slightly.

He turned his head, his gaze passing over the dimly lit strategy room, and looked at Saionji Satsuki, who was sitting upright in the main leather swivel chair.

Satsuki was wearing a dark blue flannel dress with a lapel collar. She sat there quietly. Faced with the instant evaporation of one billion dollars, her delicate face showed not a trace of emotional loss or panic.

Her clear, black-and-white eyes stared calmly at the red alert on the screen.

It's Arthur Vance again. He's quite an interesting guy.

The ability to decisively abandon tedious legal entanglements and astutely seize upon this single, undefendable flaw in physical settlement—the opponent—demonstrates that they are indeed an exceptionally skilled Washington Hound.

Looking at Satsuki's expressionless face, Endo's inner turmoil subsided completely.

He spoke into the phone, his tone returning to its usual cold and hard manner.

"Frank. Take a deep breath."

"Forget about that billion."

Endo's eyes were fixed on the big screen.

"Initiate asset reconciliation procedures. Immediately check the hidden major options account."

Frank's breathing paused for a second on the other end of the phone. Then, the rapid clatter of keyboard typing filled the air.

"Yes, independent verification is being conducted through an offshore encrypted gateway..."

Thirty seconds. During those long thirty seconds, only the hum of the exhaust fan could be heard in the strategic room.

"The main account is safe." Frank's voice regained its Wall Street elite efficiency. "The three hundred billion dollars of notional principal in forward put option short positions are all anchored in independent seats in Chicago and Singapore. Because the billion dollars of bait funds were legally isolated through the most complex umbrella trust structure before being transferred out, the SEC's freeze order only physically blocked the route of that specific shell company."

"The fire won't reach our main options positions."

Endo let out a long sigh of relief.

The biggest crisis has been averted. The major short positions remain intact. This means that the Saionji family still holds the ultimate weapon capable of crushing the entire market in the face of the impending economic collapse in Japan.

"Sever the connection. It must be severed immediately."

"Activate the firewall contingency plan".

"Frank, bring in Manhattan's top legal team. File a top-level transnational jurisdiction lawsuit in federal court over this frozen billion dollars."

Endo's eyes became extremely deep.

"Cut off all internal legal assistance and subsequent funding to this shell fund. Let the external legal team fight a bloody battle with the SEC."

"Turn this billion dollars into bait that relentlessly gnaws at Arthur Vance's energy. Drag him into an isolated quagmire with countless hearings, appeals, and transnational legal disputes."

"As long as his attention is focused on this billion-dollar lawsuit, he will never notice the three hundred billion dollar short position we've placed."

"Understood," Frank's voice came from the other end. "The legal team's documents will be submitted to the federal court within an hour. Consider that billion as a toll to the government."