Chapter 1
Looking out from the hall on the top floor of the high-rise hotel, one could see the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Office glowing like a candle in the fading evening light. Although it wasn’t the best view, there was never a shortage of people who complimented its beauty with breathless awe.
For Yu Kisaragi, who had grown weary of the sight, it was meaningless.
Kisaragi crossed the hall, with its faint strains of Vivaldi playing, before entering the clinic.
The clinic, located on the twenty-fifth floor of Shinjuku Crest Hotel, specialized in comprehensive physical examinations. It was a satellite clinic of T. Medical School next to the hotel, and had been established to provide services to the ultra-VIPs. Patients reserved a room at the hotel and stayed there while they underwent a variety of examinations at the clinic. Doctors came around to do calls through the specialized underground passage connected to T. Medical School. Patients included politicians, entrepreneurs, and those in the entertainment business-people who wouldn’t put a limit on their budget if it meant protecting their privacy.
Kisaragi was a doctor who specialized in gastrointestinal medicine, and doubled as the director of this satellite clinic. He had been hand-picked for the role by his professor, who credited him for his mild personality, refined looks, and clinical prowess.
Kisaragi slipped past the clinic reception desk toward the director’s office. Once he was seated at his desk, he began to read through the medical records of the patients who had appointments for the day.
“Mr. Arima is here,” announced the intercom at his desk. Kisaragi headed toward Consultation Room No. 1. Despite its name, the room was outfitted more like a deluxe hotel suite. One could probably never tell it was a consultation room, save for the X-ray light box and electrocardiograph next to the consultation desk. A well-built man in Japanese traditional clothing was seated in an armchair in the middle of the room.
Soukichi Arima. He was the chairman of Arima Group, one of the largest conglomerate companies around. He also happened to be a so-called “fixer” in the political realm. He amassed enormous assets from special procurements throughout the turmoil following World War II as well as the Korean War, making full use of his strong connections with political parties and power to take control of the political realm. Kisaragi, like many others, also knew about him. Although the man was well past seventy, his skin was still healthy and taut. Although what he had left of his greying hair was thinning, his big, bulging eyes were clear. Rumour had it that he had three mistresses under his wing. Apparently his libido was even stronger than his lust for money and fame.
But none of that mean anything to Kisaragi. To him, Arima was just another patient.
“It’s time for your full checkup already, Mr. Arima. One year seems to fly by, doesn’t it?” Kisaragi said quietly, brushing his chestnut hair up and flipping the examination sheet. He seated himself in the chair in front of the man and compared the screening results from the surgery department to the previous values.
“Your serum amylase is within the normal range as[m1] well. The doctor from the surgical department tells me you don’t have any problems. How far would you like to go with exams this year?”
Arima had undergone surgery for pancreatic cancer two years prior. Kisaragi had happened to be in charge of his abdominal ultrasound examination at the time, and he had found a small shadow in the pancreatic body. Once it was found to be pancreatic cancer in its early stages, Arima had undergone surgery for its removal.
Arima made a relaxed, sweeping motion with his large palm.
“Actually, doc, I’m not here for a physical. I’d like to be admitted your internal medicine department for a while for medical examinations. Starting tomorrow.”
“I can’t arrange for that on such short notice?”
Unless it was for an emergency, the wait list to be admitted to T. Medical School’s internal medicine department was at least one month long. Arima once again waved his hand languidly.
“I wouldn’t mind being put into a special room. Anywhere is fine.”
“A special room, you say.” Kisaragi wasted no time in turning to the computer at his desk to contact the person in charge of reservations.
“There’s a room available that’s 350,000* after insurance deductions.”
“Does it have its own elevator?” When Kisaragi said yes, Arima nodded and said he would take the room.
“A royal suite here would cost seven, eight hundred thousand. This is nothing compared to that.” Arima glanced over at the door and yelled, “Hey!”
A secretary hurried into the room.
“I’m being admitted. Get the paperwork done.”
The secretary bowed her head deeply and assented.
“Doc here will be in charge of me. I’ve already talked to the professor.”
“I am, am I?” said Kisaragi. He was used to the whimsy of the rich - and also the fact that being admitted on such short notice meant that something was going on.
“It’s to shut out the noisy flies, doc. You’ll make sure I can’t take visitors, right?”
Kisaragi remembered hearing that Tokyo District Public Procecutors office had begun to stir about some issue concerning corruption and bribery with a politician belonging to the party in power. He personally thought nothing of it. He had not a single interest in politics.
“Understood,” Kisaragi said without asking any questions. Arima strode breezily out the door with his secretary in tow.
350,000* About $3,500.