Chapter 197
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 197
The moment Ozmer fell from power, Menoa’s Tajiruns fiercely vied to fill the vacuum. Overnight, schemes were hatched and contracts were traded.
Yet, none of them truly guarded against Japa. They saw him as an outsider—an exile who couldn't return without their permission, someone they could easily crush if it came to that.
Instead, they all tried to leverage his influence. In such a razor-thin balance of power, even an outsider like Japa could be a massive asset.
The moment the inheritance law firm arrived, the atmosphere shifted. They remained on the Menoa Mothership for two days, conducting inquiries and interrogations. Meanwhile, the autopsy—which all but dissected the corpse—was completed.
“…It is homicide,” said the medical examiner hired by the law firm. He submitted the results in a lengthy document.
Though filled with complex details, the summary was simple:
Asphyxiation due to neurotoxin. Signs of evidence tampering present.
A snake killed by poison. There was a decent joke in there if I played it right. If I lacked just a fraction more social grace, I would have blurted it out.
I swallowed the thought and the words on my tongue, quietly observing.
Menoa’s Tajiruns immediately rushed to Ozmer, demanding a confession. Circumstantially, it looked as if he had killed the Family Head and fabricated the evidence.
If I were in their shoes, I’d think the same.
But Ozmer fiercely protested his innocence. To make matters worse…
“One of you killed Father! One of you is trying to frame me! Maldon—was it you?!” Ozmer shrieked, pointing at his siblings and insisting the real culprit was among them.
Ozmer won’t confess. He didn't do it, and admitting to the crime means exile.
Unlike Japa, Ozmer wouldn’t survive a day in the wasteland. He didn’t have a ‘Kato.’
The situation was at a deadlock. The lawyers from the firm huddled in constant, noisy meetings, keeping in touch with their headquarters and speaking frequently with officials from the Bellato Federation.
“Mr. Menoa did not want his assets passed down to the child who killed him. That is why he hired us in secret. If you cannot identify the culprit within the family…”
The lawyers issued their warning. The Menoa family tried to manufacture a scapegoat, but the firm wasn't fooled by such a shallow trick. To satisfy them, the culprit had to be one of the children.
But no one in the Menoa family was willing to take the fall for their siblings or the family name.
If they can’t find the killer, the former Family Head's entire inheritance will be donated.
Japa’s ten-year plan was brilliant. He had exploited the inherent greed of the Menoa family to sow distrust. He’d swallowed his pride, lain low, and planted his seeds. No one could have guessed that while he feigned submission, he was sowing the seeds of their ruin.
“Is it really true that Father ordered a donation?” Maldon, acting as the temporary Family Head, asked the lawyers on behalf of the family.
“These documents are notarized by the Bellato Federation,” one lawyer responded calmly. “If you believe they are forged, you are welcome to file an objection with the Federal Government.”
Resigning themselves to their fate, the Menoa family began consulting with the lawyers, bracing for the loss of the inheritance.
“Mr. Menoa’s assets will be dispersed among non-profit organizations within the Bellato Federation. As for the shares of corporations and businesses not registered with the Federation… let us take this opportunity to convert them into legal entities.”
“Is that even possible?”
Under federal law, the vast majority of the Menoa family's businesses were illegal. While they had bypassed regulations to register a few minor operations, their core businesses were illicit, making them little more than a criminal syndicate.
“Normally, it would be highly difficult. But this is an exceptional case. Since a massive amount of capital will be dispersed for public interest across federal territory, I believe they will turn a blind eye. There is definitely room for negotiation here.”
Menoa's Tajiruns stirred. The atmosphere grew animated, as if they had discovered a golden opportunity in the midst of crisis.
Japa slipped to my side, whispering like a commentator.
“Hoyot, they intend to use the donations to legitimize businesses that are illegal under federal law. For your information, laundering illicit assets into legal ones through donations incurs astronomical fees. There are Tajirun families who make a living solely off that service. And while laundering cash is a one-time windfall, owning shares in a legitimate business provides a continuous stream of income.”
“So, they're bribing the Federal Government under the guise of a donation.”
“Exactly. Private enterprises will be funding infrastructure that would have otherwise come out of the federal budget.”
While we spoke, the lawyers persuaded the Tajiruns and presented their proposal. Being a cunning species, the Tajiruns twisted words and phrasing to squeeze out every possible advantage.
However, two of the lawyers were Tajiruns themselves. The family's tricks were systematically dismantled by their own kind as the negotiations proceeded.
The lawyers treated the inheritance donation and the business legalization as entirely separate matters. To legalize the businesses tied to the donated shares, the Menoa family had to pay a substantial additional fee.
Truly ingenious.
I chuckled inwardly.
The lawyers were brilliant. They extracted astronomical fees for the business legalization—an amount so high the Menoa family might have rejected it under normal circumstances. But with the inheritance about to be donated anyway, it was far more profitable to spend the extra money to secure their businesses.
Consumed by immediate calculations of profit and loss, the Menoa family failed to sense the danger even as the quicksand rose to their waists.
The three-day negotiation drew to a close.
“...And the donation is not yet final,” one lawyer said. “We will also dispatch investigators to find the culprit. As this clause states, should we identify the killer, we will claim ten percent of the inheritance. That would yield far more than the business legalization fees. Therefore, we intend to assign our finest talents to the investigation.”
Until the very end, the lawyers maintained the pretense that other options existed and that their primary goal was to find the culprit.
“We will also do everything in our power to root out the killer,” Maldon declared.
“If you happen to require a federal investigator, we can submit an application on your behalf. It would be difficult for the Menoa family to summon one directly.”
Having concluded their negotiations, the Tajiruns approached Japa.
“Japa, let us put the past behind us. As for your return to the family… we should now carefully consider it.”
They stopped short of a firm commitment, merely dangling the possibility of his reinstatement. They were deeply reluctant to let Japa return now that the family was weakened.
But they also don't want to make an enemy of him at this juncture.
Japa stood on an ambiguous boundary.
To the Menoa family, he was not an ally, but not quite an enemy either. He was someone they wanted to cast aside, yet had to embrace when he proved useful. They couldn’t just kill him, but leaving him be felt deeply unsettling.
It was a familiar dynamic. I had seen someone else maintain a perfect balance in such a gray zone.
Kinuan's way.
Japa had positioned himself exquisitely upon the scales of power, acting as the counterweight.
This really is Kinuan's plan.
If you can place yourself perfectly within the balance of power, you can coordinate and dominate events without being an absolute powerhouse yourself. That was Kinuan's specialty.
With our business concluded, we left the Menoa Mothership and returned to Border City.
About a month later, several of Menoa’s Tajiruns paid a visit to the Japa Trading headquarters. The building's renovations were nearing completion, and the air was heavy with the scent of industrial chemicals and adhesive.
“Japaaaaaaa!”
“Jaspiekederaaa!”
Japa's real name echoed through the halls as they barged into his office.
A heated argument erupted—or rather, a one-sided torrent of abuse from the Menoa Tajiruns.
“Did you trick us, Japa?! Don’t tell me Father was also… because of you…!”
It seemed they had finally put the pieces together.
The direct-line Tajiruns of the Menoa family, the Bellato Federal Government, the law firm… Japa had pulled the strings from the shadows, all while pretending to be a mere bystander.
The former Family Head's assets and shares had been converted into legitimate capital and businesses. Then, under the guise of donations, those assets were dispersed to non-profit organizations.
The Menoa family thought it all ended with the donation. They woke up to find Japa had already swallowed their capital and businesses whole.
As if waiting for this exact moment, Japa had absorbed those seemingly unrelated organizations into the Japa Scholarship Foundation or brought them under his wing as subsidiaries. He already held all the strings. Even the occasional aggressive merger was readily approved by the Bellato Federal Government, leaving no room for complications.
Japa had been plotting with the Federal Government to devour the Menoa family for a very long time.
The Federation naturally preferred dealing with someone like Japa over a shady syndicate like the Menoa family.
They had been completely devoured. Menoa’s Tajiruns hadn’t even realized they were being digested until the walls closed in, the lights went out, and every exit vanished.
“Ah, and I have recruited Lisanda to the board of directors of the Japa Scholarship Foundation. Let me calculate how many shares we need to allocate so Lisanda can attend the Round Table Conference, hoyot, hoyot. My, I will have to raise her salary quite a bit.”
Japa babbled fluently, not even bothering to use the Tajirun language.
The Menoa Tajiruns fell dead silent. They finally understood the gravity of the situation.
Japa now held the power to designate the voting members of the Menoa family. For the lower-ranking members, their very seats at the Round Table Conference depended entirely on his support.
Tap, tap.
Japa clicked his long claws together. Equesian mercenaries stepped forward, looming over the Tajiruns to escort them out.
“This isn't over, Japa,” Maldon, the current Family Head, spat as he retreated.
…A month later, Maldon was dead. News arrived that the leadership of the Menoa family had changed hands once more. Who the new Family Head was no longer mattered.
“The operation was only so easy because the Menoa family was behind the times,” Japa mused. “An era is coming where even Tajiruns cannot survive without cooperating with the Bellato Federation. Other families have collaborated closely with the Federation to secure a Tajirun Autonomous District, where they are building their own factions. If the Menoa family had possessed any real influence in that district, devouring them would not have been this simple.”
“And it would have been impossible without Kinuan's blueprint. The whole thing reeked of him,” I said, resting my chin on my hand as I leaned back on the sofa. “Besides, if you had filled me in beforehand, we could have avoided unnecessary casualties.”
“It was the perfect opportunity to see if your intellect has reached Kinuan's level. As your employer, I believe I am entitled to at least that much of a test, hoyot, hoyot.”
I narrowed my eyes. If I didn't keep my expression in check, my lip would have curled into a snarl.
“So, are you satisfied?”
“You seemed to have figured everything out halfway through. I was incredibly relieved. Hoyoyoyoo, it is quite terrifying when you glare at me like that.”
I debated whether to lose my temper.
A couple of months ago, I would have grabbed Japa by the collar on the spot.
Now, I could tolerate it. It wasn't because Japa was a woman, but because my mind had stabilized. It was much easier to consciously maintain a state of tranquility.
Click.
Japa tapped the table. A hologram flickered to life, displaying a map and a stream of personal profiles.
“Therefore, from this moment on, I shall place my absolute trust in you. This is Valek's current location. Let us begin the hunt, Mr. Luka.”
Japa had cleverly thrown out a new target to redirect my focus. I grinned and stood up.
Valek.
The bastard who called himself Kinuan's disciple. It probably wasn't an empty boast; he had likely received Kinuan's teachings. And just like me, he wielded a dual-sword set from the Hwagwang Series.
“Do you require any additional support?” he asked.
I pondered for a moment, then snapped my fingers.
“A duffel bag. Big enough to fit a person. Oh, and a muzzle.”