Chapter 197 - 92: From Private Salt to Official Salt
"Mr. Yazō Kawaji, Leader Yahiko requests your presence," the guard at the entrance of the Rain Shadow Building said politely, gesturing with a slight nod.
"Watch your tone! What do you mean by ’Mr.’? Call him Chairman!" one of Yazō Kawaji’s underlings barked indignantly.
"Enough, don’t be rude," Yazō Kawaji raised his hand in a commanding gesture. "Please, lead the way."
This time, Yazō Kawaji came to negotiate terms with the Akatsuki. Deep down, he understood that he was nothing more than a small-time thug leeching off the factory workers. His so-called "influence" among the workers was just a means to squeeze some benefits from those in power.
But when it came to facing the Akatsuki, he wasn’t confident at all. Unlike the Hourglass Corporation, which was an outsider, or the spineless Kin Kong, the Akatsuki was a group of bona fide "rebels" who had risen to power by overthrowing the regime. Each of them was a battle-hardened warrior with blood on their hands. His petty tricks might not even register with them—after all, no matter how tough a neck is, it’s no match for a blade.
Originally, his plan was to wait until the Flying Rain Corporation started operations, then lead the workers in a strike to show the Akatsuki his value. He’d then negotiate with the higher-ups, ensuring the "union" could continue its good days.
But unexpectedly, more than half a month had passed, and the Flying Rain Corporation showed no signs of starting operations. Without operations, how could there be a strike?
Following the guide to the second-floor office, he saw Yahiko and a middle-aged, thin man sitting at the main seat. Behind them stood four burly men, each with a fierce expression and an air of murderous intent, as if they could devour the three of them alive at any moment.
Looking at his two underlings, who were supposed to act as his bodyguards, they had their heads lowered, shoulders slumped, and seemed to have lost their voices entirely, not daring to utter a sound.
"Useless fools, like dog meat unfit for a proper banquet," Yazō Kawaji cursed inwardly.
Still, he mustered the courage to sit in the lower seat, appearing like a prisoner awaiting interrogation.