Fumihako Togo, the Japanese ambassador to the United States, had lately been so busy that even ten bodies would not have been enough. In the 1980s, the anti-Japanese sentiment sweeping across the American continent had already gone beyond rational judgment and was close to madness.
In a square in Detroit, Japanese cars painted with the Rising Sun flag were engulfed in flames, and terrified exchange students being assaulted and coming to knock on the embassy’s doors had become an everyday occurrence. Domestic companies such as [Toyota] and [Nissan], fearing their export routes might be blocked, clung to the ambassador’s trouser legs day after day. Before the great wave that was America’s anger, the nation of Japan was like a small ferry on the verge of sinking.
And yet this afternoon, leaving behind every urgent issue piled up before him, he had boarded a plane bound for New York. His destination was Westchester, an affluent enclave north of New York City. He had received an invitation from the Devenger family, one of the families that had signed the American Declaration of Independence and was praised for laying the foundation of the nation.
The Devengers were not merely a distinguished family. They were media magnates who exerted behind-the-scenes influence over politics and finance, and in the conspiracy theories of the masses, they were an object of fear and reverence, standing shoulder to shoulder with “the Rockefellers of oil” and “the Carnegies of steel” as “the Devengers of force.”
After the splendor of the Gilded Age came to an end, they chose seclusion and gradually faded from public memory, but among the power brokers of Washington, their status and their name still carried weight.
That was why Togo cast aside even his pride and swiftly arranged a visit. The moment he landed at JFK Airport, he got into the waiting car and rushed onward until he finally arrived at the entrance to the Devenger family’s main residence, “Devenger The Manor.”
Not long after leaving the airport, an enormous iron gate and a guard post blocking the private road into the estate appeared. When the car stopped, a checkpoint attendant swept sharp eyes over the interior and tapped on the driver’s-side window. On the chest of his black uniform, the Devenger family crest—“crossed sword and shield”—was vividly embroidered in gold.
“Welcome to the Devenger estate.”
The man’s voice was courteous, but beneath it lay an unmistakably high-handed attitude.
“Are you carrying any firearms, listening devices, or unauthorized recording media inside? In accordance with security protocol, we will conduct a thorough inspection.”
The embassy staff member in the driver’s seat looked back at Ambassador Togo through the rearview mirror in bewilderment. He seemed to feel insulted by the way they were treating a vehicle carrying the ambassador of a nation, as if it were at the border checkpoint of a hostile state. But Togo lightly shook his head to stop him.
Because he had instinctively realized that within this vast fence, the family’s house law took precedence over even the federal law of the United States.
“None. All of my belongings have already been left at the embassy, so check as you please.”
With an expressionless face, the security officer took out a state-of-the-art portable detector and swept it around the car. Each time the mechanical beeping broke the silence, Togo’s heartbeat quickened in a strange way. At last, the officer raised his hand in a salute with the restrained movements of a soldier and pressed the switch to open the enormous iron gate.
“You may pass. The head of the family is waiting in the study.”
The heavy iron gate opened with a sound like the groan of a giant. What appeared beyond it was not a building, but a forest and road like an endless primeval woodland. When his secretary whispered that they would have to drive quite a bit farther before they could even glimpse the shadow of the main building, Togo once again grasped the true substance of this family.
“An estate of six thousand acres on the outskirts of New York… It’s beyond imagination. To think such a kingdom exists barely an hour from Manhattan.”
At Togo’s murmured admiration, the secretary in the front seat added in a lowered voice.
“It isn’t merely large, Ambassador. Even the federal highway construction plan the state government was pushing had to lose its way and detour before this family’s estate. If you look at a map, you’ll see that the highway curves around the Devenger Estate as if it had encountered a massive fortress wall.”
Outside the window, where the secretary’s finger pointed, stretched an endless, dense cedar forest untouched by human hands.
“Even when the state government tried to designate this area as a nature reserve in order to manage the Cross River Reservoir, a source of drinking water for New York City, the Devengers flatly refused, saying, ‘The government may not touch a single tree on our land.’ In the end, the state government backed down.”
An iron fortress that not even a government administrative order could pierce. This was another empire existing within the nation called America, reigning above the law.
“So the nickname ‘the Devengers of force’ wasn’t given for nothing. A family whose very existence becomes force, even without taking up guns or blades…”
The secretary cautiously watched Togo’s expression through the rearview mirror and continued.
“There’s even a saying going around that the master of the White House may change, but the master of Westchester never does. Ambassador, I believe today’s meeting will become something more than mere diplomatic business.”
Togo swallowed dryly and straightened his tie. The sweat on his palms felt clammy.
“They truly are tremendous. More importantly, for what reason would this arrogant titan personally invite a mere ambassador like me… Do we have any concrete information?”
“The preparation time was far too short to identify the exact reason. However, his recent movements are rather interesting.”
The secretary lowered his voice and continued his report to Ambassador Togo.
“There are widespread rumors that the young man who recently inherited the position of family head is an extraordinary eccentric. When opposition within the family became fierce, it was briefly mentioned in the press that he did not touch the family assets at all and instead took out bank loans solely on his personal credit to jump into the game console business. At present, we understand that this game company is cooperating closely with our country’s [Sharp].”
“In other words, his youthful vigor has him dabbling in this and that business?”
“Yes, that is correct. I suspect he may have invited us because of that business. However, whether due to his exceptional personal ability or not, [Sharp] is said to have judged that the game console he planned has tremendous commercial potential.”
“He called us here because of business… For the impetuousness of a young family head, the stage is far too grand.”
Togo stared through the car window at the front of the mansion, “Devenger The Manor,” as it slowly revealed itself. It was an elegant Palladian structure like the White House, but its scale was overwhelming. If the White House in Washington was a symbol defending the value of democracy, this place was like the fortress wall of an empire built by capital and bloodline.
Without realizing it, Togo let out a hollow laugh. He could feel it on his skin: even the president of the United States, the moment he set foot here, would be nothing more than a guest waiting for the master’s hospitality.
When the car stopped, a young butler with soldier-like restraint in his movements opened the door. Guided inside the mansion, the pressure reached its peak. The magnificent murals adorning the ceiling were so vivid they seemed touched by the hand of a Renaissance master, and the medieval artworks placed in every corridor were each worthy of being national treasures.
At the end of the corridor hung a life-sized painting of “The Signing of the Declaration of Independence.” In the painting, an ancestor of the Devenger family held a sheet of paper on which the ink had not yet dried, his gleaming eyes seeming to look down at Togo in the present. There was an arrogance to them, as if warning, “Do not behave rudely in the country we founded.”
Listening to the young butler’s brief explanation, Togo climbed the marble staircase and was led to the large study conference room on the second floor. When the door opened, a tall and handsome young man who had been reading the day’s edition warmly greeted Togo’s party and offered his hand.
“Welcome, Ambassador Togo. You must have had a difficult journey in New York’s humid summer weather. I am Henry Devenger, head of the Devenger family.”
Henry lightly set the paper he had been reading down on the table. On the open front page was a large article about Detroit workers demonstrating with hammers in their hands, demanding restrictions on Japanese automobile imports.
“I was just reading this article. It says the workers of Detroit are smashing Japanese cars with hammers. I imagine that is why you have been losing sleep lately, Ambassador?”
As Togo clasped Henry’s hand, he felt a cold sweat run down his back. Henry’s overwhelming physique, nearly 190 centimeters tall, and his relaxed smile gave off the pressure of standing before a massive predator. Contrary to his kind tone, his blue eyes were already aimed precisely at Japan’s vital point.
“Sir… Devenger. I doubt you summoned us merely to offer comfort.”
“Of course not. Today, I intend to make you a proposal that contains an opportunity to overcome this crisis. Please, sit. This will be a long conversation.”
The heavy study door closed, and the butler Bart brought in the finest Ceylon tea. A faint aroma of tea filled the study, but Togo’s tension did not ease. Henry was the first to speak.
“Ambassador, relax and have a seat. New York summers wear a man down, so let us get to the main point over a cup of tea.”
Togo carefully lifted his teacup, but his gaze remained fixed on the front-page photograph Henry had been reading. The crumpled hood of a [Toyota]. Henry did not miss that brief glance and opened his mouth.
“[Toyota] and [Nissan] seem to be struggling in the American market these days. A performance where people smash cars with hammers—truly barbaric, is it not? But that is the current state of American public opinion. In short, ‘Japan bashing’ has become a kind of sport.”
“That is correct, Mr. Devenger. That is why we have been losing sleep while searching for a solution… but I did not expect you to take an interest in this matter.”
At Togo’s words, Henry leaned deeply back in his chair. The creak of leather broke the heavy silence of the study.
“I am not trying to present a solution. I am trying to conduct a business that will benefit us both.”
“A business… you say?”
“As you know, Ambassador, I recently joined hands with Japan’s [Sharp]. Their semiconductor and liquid crystal technology is among the best in the world. I intend to use that technology to create a new culture of play. A game console that will enter children’s living rooms, and a business that will steal adults’ time. But that business is not the reason for this invitation. I invited you to discuss a similar, yet different business.”
Henry set down his teacup and looked straight at Togo.
“A similar yet far greater board… I intend to make another proposal, one that will change Japan’s destiny.”
A specialty of protagonists in manga of the future. And Henry himself began to perform the Wind Release: Mouth Technique, for which he had even prepared the script.