Reborn in Tokyo: From Heiress to Global Tycoon

Chapter 74 Sweep

(Thanks to "kdtgv" for the 49 update reminder tokens! Thank you to "Qingshilu de Jiwenwang" for the "Great God" certification! Thank you to "Mingzi Jiao Mengdie" for the "Great God" certification! One extra chapter~)

Port area, Shibaura Wharf.

The sea breeze at night, carrying rain and snow, swept across the abandoned dock like countless tiny blades.

This is the Black Dragon Society's forward base, and also their stronghold for storing those "street propaganda vehicles" and heavy engineering machinery used to disturb the peace.

This is not some small warehouse with only a dozen or so thugs guarding the place.

In preparation for tomorrow's "big move," the Black Dragon Society drew elites from its branches throughout the Kanto region. At this moment, inside the massive, monstrous Warehouse No. 3, nearly fifty yakuza members dressed in black suits or work clothes had gathered. They carried steel pipes and baseball bats, and their waists were even bulging with prohibited short knives and modified air guns.

The air was thick with the smell of cheap tobacco, alcohol, and that unsettling stench of male hormones.

"Everyone, perk up!"

A burly man with a face full of scars stood on a stack of wooden crates, waving a bottle of sake in his hand.

"The chairman said that tomorrow morning at nine o'clock, we're going to completely surround the Saionji family's new store! Anyone who dares to mess up will be sent to feed the fish in Tokyo Bay!"

"oh--!!!"

The roar of more than fifty people shook the dust off the ceiling.

In this era without laws against organized crime, it is a paradise for yakuza.

They considered themselves the masters of the night, an invincible gang of thugs.

Until the moment the lights went out.

"Click."

It wasn't the sound of a switch being turned off, but rather the cracking sound of a transformer being physically severed.

The entire warehouse was instantly plunged into complete darkness.

"What's going on? Is there a power outage?"

"Go check the circuit breaker!"

Before Ruotou's roar had even subsided, the skylight above their heads suddenly shattered.

"Splash—!"

Along with the falling shards of glass, six cylindrical objects also appeared.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Those were military-grade stun grenades.

A blinding white light and a deafening roar that could shatter eardrums echoed back and forth in the enclosed space. More than fifty members of the yakuza group instantly lost their sight and hearing, screaming and covering their ears like headless flies.

Immediately afterwards, the four side doors of the warehouse, which were originally closed, were simultaneously blown open by directional explosive cords.

"boom!"

Before the smoke and dust had cleared, thirty black figures suddenly appeared like ghosts.

They wore unmarked dark black tactical combat uniforms, full-face gas masks, and tactical night vision goggles. Instead of the short swords used in yakuza combat, they carried extended titanium tactical batons and high-voltage stun shields.

SA Security Department, Special Duties Section.

This is an unequal war.

"Group 1, left-wing suppression! Group 2, right-wing encirclement! Group 3, center penetration!"

Dojima Genchū was at the very front. He wasn't carrying a weapon; since firearms weren't allowed, his most effective weapon was his own fists.

A yakuza member who had just regained his sight charged forward, brandishing a machete: "Bastard—!"

Instead of retreating, Dojima Gege advanced, sidestepping the blade and delivering a precise elbow strike directly to his opponent's face.

"Click."

The sound of nasal bone shattering. The man didn't even have time to scream before he fell straight backward.

Calling it a brawl might not be appropriate; it's more like a harvesting.

The gap between a professional army and a rabble was vividly demonstrated at this moment.

SA's team members worked in groups of three, forming an unstoppable tactical squad. They used stun shields to block the opponent's chaotic attacks, and then used batons to precisely strike the opponent's knees, wrists, and collarbones.

"Ah—! My leg!"

"My hand is broken!"

Screams rose and fell. In just three minutes, more than fifty so-called "elite" soldiers fell like wheat being harvested.

Dojima Yan stepped over the wounded soldiers scattered on the ground and walked straight toward the young man who was trying to escape through the back door.

The leader held a revolver in his hand, trembling as he tried to raise it.

"call out."

A rubber bullet struck his wrist precisely.

The pistol fell to the ground.

Dojima Yan picked him up from the ground like a chick and pressed him against the cold wall.

Where is Onizuka?

Ruotou was still stubbornly insisting, "You...you're all dead! The president will..."

"Click."

Without a word, Dojima immediately broke one of his fingers.

"ah!!!"

"I'm in a hurry. Where is Onizuka?"

"Aka...Akasaka! He's at the main office in Akasaka! There are over a hundred people there! Going there is just suicide!"

As expected of Ruotou, even when admitting defeat, he still utters a harsh remark.

Dojima Yan released his grip, letting Ruotou slump to the ground.

He pressed the earpiece.

"Boss, cleared. Target confirmed: Akasaka Main House."

"The enemy force is estimated to number over one hundred."

Through the earpiece, Satsuki's calm yet unsettling voice came through, and in the background, one could almost hear the rustling of pages turning.

"One hundred people?"

"Perfect. Since we're going to establish our authority, let's uproot them completely."

"Dojima, I want him to feel what despair is in that so-called 'fortress'."

A bloodthirsty smile curled at the corner of Dojima Iwao's lips.

"clear."

"All hands on deck! Target Akasaka! This time, we're going big."

……

Akasaka, the headquarters of the Black Dragon Society.

This is a five-story building located on a quiet slope. It looks like an ordinary trading company on the outside, but in reality, the internal structure has been specially reinforced, all the windows are bulletproof glass, and sixty thugs are stationed in the lobby on the first floor.

With the addition of patrol personnel on the perimeter, this place truly is an impregnable fortress.

Inside the president's room on the top floor.

Toranosuke Onizuka is wiping down one of his antique samurai swords.

"Ring ring—"

The phone on the table rang incessantly.

Onizuka frowned and answered the phone.

"President! It's terrible! Shibaura's warehouse has been raided! The entire army has been wiped out! The attackers are professionals!" A survivor's voice came through the phone, trembling with tears. "They're heading towards Akasaka! That's the military! That's the military!"

"You bastard!"

Onizuka slammed the phone on the table.

He knew, of course, that the Saionji family was wealthy and had political connections, but he never expected that the seemingly gentle and refined nobleman would actually be keeping a private army!

"Someone! Wake everyone up! Pull down the roller shutter!"

Onizuka roared at the door.

He wasn't panicked. This was Akasaka, the heart of Tokyo. As long as he held this building, the Metropolitan Police Department would definitely intervene should a large-scale gunfight break out. Then, the Saionji family's charge of mobilizing armed forces without authorization would be confirmed.

He picked up the red dedicated phone. It was a private line to a high-ranking member of the ruling party.

"Beep...beep...beep..."

But no one answered.

Onizuka's heart sank. He dialed a second number, this time a bureau chief from the Ministry of Finance.

The number you dialed is currently switched off.

The third is a superintendent of the Metropolitan Police Department.

"Currently busy..."

Onizuka's hands began to tremble.

In the dead of night, at the moment when he needed the protection of power the most, those "big shots" who had taken countless sums of dirty money from him seemed to have made a pact to collectively disappear.

A sense of being abandoned by the world washed over him like ice water.

"Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!!! Didn't you guys send me to stir up trouble?! Now you're acting like cowards!?"

Onizuka's trembling hands almost crushed the receiver in his grasp.

When the Saionji family's behemoth crashed into them, no one was willing to perish with their wrecked ship.

"Damn it! Damn it! They're all ingrates!"

Onizuka slammed the phone against the wall, smashing it to pieces.

Just then, a loud bang came from downstairs. (Don't ask, it was a gas explosion.)

"boom--!"

The earthquake trembled.

The thickened roller shutter door of the Black Dragon Society headquarters, which was supposed to be able to withstand truck impacts, was blasted open with a large hole by directional explosives.

"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"

A chaotic roar came from the walkie-talkie downstairs.

"Stop them! Fire! Shoot them!"

Onizuka grabbed his katana and rushed to the monitor screen.

But what he saw chilled him to the bone.

The lobby on the first floor was filled with smoke.

In the white smoke, countless dark figures wearing gas masks and carrying shields formed black walls, advancing like the Grim Reaper.

Although the Black Dragon Society's henchmen outnumbered each other, they were like lambs to the slaughter in the face of the SA Special Operations Group's textbook CQB (Close Quarters Battle) tactics.

Stun grenades, tear gas, and tasers.

SA didn't even use live ammunition, relying solely on non-lethal weapons and tactical coordination, like a bulldozer, crushing upwards layer by layer.

The second floor was lost.

The third floor has fallen.

The dull sound of military boots pounding on the stairs grew closer and louder, like a countdown to death.

"Even if it were a hundred pigs, it would take half a day to catch them!"

Onizuka roared in despair. He couldn't believe that his elite troops, whom he had cultivated for decades, were so utterly vulnerable.

"President! Let's get out of here! Both the front and back doors are blocked!"

The bodyguard rushed in, his face covered in blood. "There's only that secret passage left!"

Behind the bookshelf was an emergency escape route leading to the underground parking lot of the building next door. This was Onizuka's last escape route.

"Go! Go quickly!"

Onizuka threw down the decorative katana, grabbed the briefcase full of cash and fake passports, and scrambled into the secret passage.

Narrow, dark, and damp.

Onizuka stumbled and staggered through the dark passage, his heart pounding in his chest.

Just run to the parking lot, there's a car with changed license plates. Just get in the car...

Finally, a glimmer of light appeared ahead.

That's the exit.

Onizuka was overjoyed. He pushed open the iron door disguised as a ventilation vent and rushed out.

"Huff... huff..."

He was panting heavily. This was the second basement level of the building next door, empty except for dim lighting.

Safe.

Thinking this, he reached for his car keys.

"Good evening, President Onizuka."

A deep voice sounded behind him.

Onizuka stiffened and slowly turned around.

In the shadows behind him, leaning against a black van, stood a man.

Dojima Iwao.

He removed his gas mask, revealing a face devoid of any expression. Not a single drop of blood stained his body; he was as clean as if he had just attended a banquet.

Behind him, four SA team members were quietly holding up capture net guns.

"How...how did you know..." Onizuka's voice trembled.

"The counterintelligence department has checked the blueprints for this building."

Dojima Iwao walked over, his leather shoes making clear footsteps on the cement ground.

"On the blueprints from fifty years ago, this was originally the connecting entrance to an air-raid shelter. You think you hid it well?"

"No...don't kill me!"

Onizuka took two steps back, dropping his briefcase to the ground, scattering bundles of banknotes.

"Money! It's all yours! I still have an account in Switzerland! Just let me go..."

Dojima Iwao walked up to him and looked at this yakuza godfather who once held sway over Tokyo's underworld, now trembling like an old dog.

"The Saionji family is not short of money."

Dojima Iwao raised his hand.

Instead of using his fist, he delivered a precise chop to Onizuka's carotid artery.

"Well……"

Onizuka rolled his eyes and collapsed limply to the ground.

Dojima Iwao caught him, as if he were a piece of luggage.

"Fall back."

He said to the team members behind him.

"Clean this place up thoroughly. Don't leave any trace."

……

Four o'clock in the morning.

Tokyo Bay, the land reclamation site surrounding Wakasu Seaside Park.

This is an area that doesn't yet exist on any map of Tokyo. All around are endless black seawater and unfinished breakwaters. The sea wind howls, drowning out all other sounds.

A bread truck without any markings was parked on the shore.

"Splash!"

A bucket of icy seawater was splashed on Onizuka's face.

"Cough cough cough!"

Onizuka woke up coughing violently. He found himself stuffed into a gasoline drum, with only his upper body sticking out.

Around the bucket, several men in work clothes were stirring quick-drying cement with shovels.

"What...what are you trying to do?!"

Onizuka, of course, knew this old tradition, and screamed in terror, desperately trying to struggle and climb out.

But he was held down firmly.

Dojima Iwao stood in front of him, holding the black ledger that had been taken from Onizuka's briefcase.

"Something very interesting."

Dojima Yan looked through the account books by the light of the car headlights.

"A member of parliament's bribery record, dirt on officials in the Ministry of Finance, and those money laundering networks between gangs... Onizuka, you've lived quite a remarkable life."

"Here you go! All of it!" Onizuka cried, tears streaming down his face. "With this, you can control half of Tokyo! As long as you don't kill me, I'm willing to be a witness! I'm willing..."

Dojima Ichiro closed the account book.

He took out a Motorola cell phone and dialed a number.

"Boss."

"The man has been caught. The ledgers have been obtained. It's definitely something that could cause a political earthquake."

On the other end of the phone, Satsuki was sitting in her warm study, holding a cup of hot milk, looking at the sky gradually brightening outside the window.

"Burn it."

Satsuki's voice was soft, yet it carried a cold indifference that seemed to look down upon all living beings.

"The Saionji family doesn't need to control others with such dirty tricks. That's the method of the weak."

"Besides, keeping it will only keep those important people up at night and cause us trouble."

"As for that person..."

She paused for a moment and took a sip of milk.

"Make him disappear."

"Only a dead person can make those important figures who are anxious because of him truly owe us a favor."

"This is 'credit'."

"clear."

Dojima Yan hung up the phone.

He took out a lighter from his pocket and lit the black ledger that was capable of bringing down countless high-ranking officials.

The flames consumed the paper, turning it to ashes that drifted away on the sea breeze.

"No!!!"

Onizuka watched as his last lifeline turned to ash and let out a desperate scream.

"Let's begin."

Dojima Gen waved his hand.

The henchmen shoveled up the heavy cement slurry and poured it into the gasoline drum, shovel by shovel.

The cold, sticky cement went up to Onizuka's ankles, knees, and waist. The gradually solidifying heaviness was more suffocating than death itself.

"Please...please..."

The wails from Onizuka gradually faded.

When the cement reached his chest, he could no longer breathe.

Dojima Iwao looked at him.

"In your next life, remember to keep your eyes open."

"There are some people you can never afford to offend in your lifetime."

The last shovelful of cement falls. The cap is sealed. Welding begins.

That once arrogant name was thus forever sealed inside a heavy tin can.

"thump."

A dull thud as water fell.

The oil drum sank into the dark Tokyo Bay, creating a small wave before being swallowed by the surging tide.

Everything returned to calm.

Dojima Iwao stood on the breakwater and lit a cigarette.

He gazed at the dazzling lights of Tokyo in the distance, at the city that was awakening.

Beneath the foundation of this city, another hard, blood-stained cornerstone has been laid.

On this cold dawn, the land reclamation project in Tokyo Bay has once again seen a negligible "development".