Tokyo, 1991: Starting as a bank clerk

Chapter 147 Ogaki Kiyomasa's Dogeza (Third Update, Requesting Monthly Tickets)

Kiyomasa Ōgaki was completely stunned: "Attitude?"

"right."

Kiryu Yaya stood up, walked around the desk, and stood in front of Ogaki Kiyoshi, looking down at him: "Minister Ogaki, I completely agree with your previous point of view."

"You said that if someone truly feels they've done something wrong, they should show some attitude."

"I wholeheartedly agree with this view."

"so""

"Minister Ogaki, as the head of the bank's finance department, you have abused your power and sought personal gain by betraying the interests of the bank."

"If you don't want to spend the rest of your life in prison, then please show me your sincere remorse!"

As he spoke, Kiryu Yaya smiled slightly: "If you satisfy me, I can choose to keep this evidence to myself and give you the opportunity to retire peacefully."

Upon hearing Kiryu Yaya's request, Kiyoshi Ogaki's expression froze as if someone had pressed the pause button.

All expressions froze at the same moment.

"you-

'

The office was eerily quiet.

Kiyoshi Ogaki sat in the chair, gripping the armrests tightly with both hands.

His lips were trembling, his Adam's apple was bobbing, and his eyes were pounding.

Kiryu Yaya actually wants him to apologize?

And in the form of a dogeza (a traditional Japanese kneeling posture)?

Kiyomasa Ōgaki felt humiliated and indignant.

This is outrageous!!

He didn't want to kneel.

Because he understood better than anyone what dogeza (a form of prostration) meant.

If only he kneels down in front of Kiryu Yaya today.

That would mean all the authority, dignity, and respect he had built up in this bank over the past forty years—

Everything collapsed.

This also means that from today onwards, he will never be able to hold his head high in front of this young man again.

But the scariest thing isn't even that.

Only now did Kiyomasa Ogaki understand.

This young man never intended to hand over the evidence in the first place.

He wants to use this evidence to turn himself into a dog on a leash.

Not one year, not two years, but forever.

Even after retirement, as long as he holds this evidence, I must be at his beck and call.

Because Kiryu Yaya can tighten the rope at any time if he wants to.

If you ask him to kneel down today, sign something tomorrow, or do something the day after tomorrow, he has no room to refuse.

Because the evidence is in the hands of the other party.

Once those things are made public, it won't just be a matter of him going to jail.

His wife, daughter, and brother —

They will all be dragged down.

Kiyoshi Ogaki closed his eyes.

He recalled the year he was thirty-five.

His first large-scale financing deal went smoothly, and the branch manager patted him on the shoulder and said, "Ogaki, you are the backbone of the Osaka branch."

I remember when I was forty-five.

Sitting in this minister's office for the first time, he confidently told his subordinates, "The bank is a man's battlefield."

I remember when I was fifty-five.

At the height of the bubble, he sat at a banquet, watching small and medium-sized business owners beg him for loans like they were praying to a god, and he felt it was only natural.

And now—

He is almost sixty years old.

There is less than a year left until retirement.

He could have left with dignity.

With a generous pension, he can go to his Ashiya home to grow flowers, play golf, and enjoy the company of his grandchildren.

Occasionally, I'm invited back to the bank as a guest lecturer to tell new employees "the story of the Osaka branch back in the day."

But all of this vanished the moment the young man took the evidence out of his briefcase.

No.

It hasn't completely vanished yet.

There is another way.

As long as he kneels down, as long as he admits his mistake, as long as he surrenders his dignity—

This young man once said, "One can hold back one's anger."

This hope compelled him to stand up and leave the seat he was so proud of.

The chair slid back half an inch, making a slight sound.

Kiyoshi Ogaki stood there, looking at the young man in front of him, his lips moved a few times as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't say anything.

Kiryu Yaya did not urge him.

He simply stood quietly in front of Kiyoshi Ogaki, his hands in his pockets, his gaze calm to the point of being indifferent.

Under that cold gaze, Kiyomasa Ogaki felt a sense of fear.

Forty years of prestige, forty years of dignity, everything built up in this bank over forty years—must all be abandoned at this moment, in front of a newcomer who has been with the company for less than two months?

His knees bent slightly.

He then straightened up again.

He was unwilling to accept it, unwilling to accept it!

"Ogaki."

Kiryu Yaya spoke up.

His voice wasn't loud, but in the quiet minister's office, every word was clear.

Kiyomasa Ogaki's shoulders trembled violently, and his fingers clenched tightly.

This was the first time he had heard the name "Ōgaki" from his subordinates.

A surname that is plain and unadorned, without any honorifics.

This humiliation was like being stripped naked and thrown onto the streets of Midosuji.

But what could he do when he was unwilling to accept it?

The young man before me already holds enough leverage to determine the fate of the rest of my life.

If you have to blame someone, blame yourself for being too greedy.

Thinking of this, his knees bent another inch, but he still did not kneel down.

Kiyomasa Ogaki's Adam's apple bobbed.

Countless images flashed through his mind:

At the age of thirty-five, I took the position of head of the financing department for the first time, full of vigor and ambition.

At the age of forty-five, he was promoted to head of the financing department and became very influential at the Osaka branch.

And now, he was about to kneel before a twenty-three-year-old newcomer, bowing his head in submission.

Thinking of this, Kiyomasa Ōgaki's pride was rekindled like a flame.

His right hand instinctively rose up, as if to hold onto the corner of the table to support his body weight.

Just then, Kiryu Yaya shouted angrily, "Oogaki!"

Kiyomasa Ogaki's body stiffened abruptly, his hand freezing in mid-air.

Kiryu Yaya took half a step forward, bringing the two of them within an arm's length of each other. He looked down at the head of the finance department and roared again, "Oogaki!! Attitude!!!"

Show me your attitude!!!

Kiyomasa Ogaki closed his eyes resignedly.

He withdrew his right hand, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes were fixed on the ground, on the light-colored paving stone that he and countless others had trodden on countless times.

Then-

His knees bent little by little.

First, the right knee.

The moment the trouser leg tightened, his kneecap hit the floor tile with a "thud".

Then the left knee.

Landing on his knees suddenly made him appear shorter.

Kiyoshi Ogaki knelt before Yaya Kiryu.

The clock on the wall is still ticking.

Click, click, click.

Each time, like some kind of solemn ritual.

Kiyomasa Ogaki braced his hands on the ground on either side of his body, palms down, fingers spread, as if trying to grasp something, but unable to grasp anything.

He kept his head down, his gray hair standing out starkly under the light, with a few strands hanging down in front of his forehead, obscuring his eyes.

He didn't put his forehead on the ground.

He knelt there, like an object that had not yet been completely unpacked, still retaining the last shred of dignity.

His shoulders were shaking, his fingers were shaking, and his whole body was trembling.

At this moment, his heart was filled with fear, humiliation, resentment, and the bewilderment of being utterly defeated, not knowing how to face the situation.

Kiryu Yaya did not urge him.

He simply stood there quietly, looking down at the superior kneeling on the ground.

About ten seconds passed.

Maybe longer.

Kiyomasa Ogaki finally bent his arm, and his forehead pressed down inch by inch.

Boom!

Forehead hit the ground!!

Then his entire upper body lay prone on the cold floor tiles.

This continued for a long time.

It continued until a small, dark, damp stain appeared on the floor tiles.

Kiyomasa Ogaki cried.

He worked at the bank for forty years.

The total amount of loans he handled was over 100 billion yen.

He has seen countless business owners kneel before him, and countless people weep, plead, and break down in front of him.

He never imagined that one day he would be the one kneeling on the ground, shedding tears.

Kiryu Yaya looked down at him.

His expression was calm, without the triumph of a victor or the satisfaction of a vengeful one.

He even frowned slightly, feeling a vague sense of revulsion.

"Oogaki, don't you have anything to say?"

As soon as the words fell, Kiyomasa Ogaki's body stiffened abruptly.

What does he want to say?

What could he say?

Kiyomasa Ogaki's lips moved a few times.

"Kiryu-kun—I'm sorry."

His voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible: "I shouldn't have—I shouldn't have targeted you in the Todai Seiko case—I shouldn't have let Iwakura Tsuyoshi and Miki Makoto confront you at the mid-level meeting—"

He spoke haltingly: "I shouldn't have—used my position—to transfer benefits to the Eighth Assets—I shouldn't have accepted the points from the Dongzheng Association—I shouldn't have concealed the hidden losses of the optoelectronics industry—"

"I was wrong."

"I was really wrong."

Kiyomasa Ogaki's voice carried a sobbing tone that sounded like he was about to collapse.

Kiryu Yaya looked down at the old man kneeling on the ground.

This is Kiyomasa Ogaki.

The head of the financing department who wields considerable influence at the Osaka branch.

Kiryu Yaya did not speak immediately.

He simply stood there quietly, looking at Kiyomasa Ogaki, his gaze calm to the point of being cold.

After about half a minute, he slowly opened his mouth.

"Ogaki."

Kiyomasa Ogaki's body trembled violently.

"Do you know what your kneeling means?"

Kiyomasa Ogaki did not look up.

His forehead was still pressed against the ground, and his voice squeezed out from the gap between the floor and his body.

"Know."

"What does that mean?"

Kiyomasa Ogaki remained silent for a few seconds.

Then, he whispered the truth that he didn't want to admit but had to.

"It means that from today onwards, the rest of my life is in Kiryu-kun's hands."

"7

When he said those words, his voice had completely lost all strength.

It's like the moment a person sentenced to life imprisonment hears the verdict in court.

Kiryu Yaya nodded slightly.

"Very well. Since you already know, I won't say any more."

He crouched down to be at eye level with Kiyoshi Ogaki.

"Minister Ogaki, I'll say it again. If your attitude is correct, I can refrain from releasing this evidence. But that depends on you, not me. Do you understand?"

Kiyomasa Ogaki slowly raised his head.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his forehead was covered in tile dust.

He looked at Kiryu Yaya, his lips moved, and in the end he only managed to squeeze out four words.

"I understand."

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