Chapter 64: Seizing the Fourth Power

He had no intention of volunteering the fact that he was making money through the financial markets, whether or not Ryu Inoue had told Shuufuu Kinoshita. After all, the borrowed 1.5 billion yen wasn’t simply for leveraging real estate; a portion would truly be invested in the two ventures he’d mentioned.

Both the bookstore and the dance hall shared a common trait: any funds he could mobilize now would, in any case, be used to buy real estate and leverage it. Once acquired, it would be a shame to leave them idle.

He had already devised ways to use the dance hall to expand cash flow, and how to use the bookstore to lay the groundwork for future plans.

Since his rebirth, more than half a month ago, his initial desires were simple—money, beautiful women, a life of carefree pleasure.

Between job hunting for easy gains and currency trading profits, he’d been meticulously planning for the future.

But after Hiroshi Oomiya’s hostility became apparent, Tao Zhimin suddenly saw a path he might walk.

In other fields, relying only on his foresight and abilities, it was difficult to achieve perfection.

High-tech and manufacturing, though crucial nodes in this era’s industrial revolution, had already seen their preliminary foundations laid, even in sectors hailed as “future industries” like semiconductors.

The key issue was that, having only begun university after the year 2000, Tao Zhimin’s understanding of these industries wasn’t deep. He lacked the technical knowledge, the team, and his capital was still being arduously accumulated. With such superficial insight, he wasn’t yet equipped to truly steer the many links of the industrial chain.

Even if he wished to wield such power, it would be best to wait until he became a figure of weight, intervening from another dimension.

That was his plan.

Because until then, there was only one area he could truly hope for greatness—one he understood most thoroughly: the Internet.

He would spend ten years laying out his foundation, accumulating power, and when the internet era arrived, he would become a man capable of influencing the world’s information and public opinion.

For someone with no intention to play politics, this was the most exaggerated and hidden power he could command.

Starting from a bookstore, building his own cultural product sales network in Japan, accumulating publishing, editing, and IP strength—all was to prepare for that goal.

Riding the wave of Japan’s cultural industry, he would await the dawn of the internet age. From the era of portal sites onward, relying on his already-established professional team, he would become a hub for information, a king targeting the next generation’s needs, a new media giant whose potential the current media titans couldn’t yet fathom.

In the future, without ever wielding official authority, he would become someone whose influence through media could not be ignored—that was the ultimate goal.

He would become an unassailable fourth estate.

Yet, on the way to this destination, he chose a more joyful path.

Power, fame. Wealth, women.

On this journey, nothing would be lacking.

Having a second chance at life and such a solid foundation, how could he not be a little greedy?

During dinner, Shuufuu Kinoshita observed Tao Zhimin, who conversed so confidently with him, and indeed saw another side to him.

After Tao Zhimin presented the plan for the Most Joyful District today, his attitude was no longer that of a subordinate as it had been before.

Now, although he still showed respect, his tone and demeanor had become very equal.

He even switched to calling him “Brother Shuufuu,” a title more intimate yet also more equal.

Just as he kept saying—it was a partnership.

But Shuufuu Kinoshita sensed: the future Tao Dailang spoke of surely had far more room for growth than his own real estate business.

After all, this man did not seem to want only a carefree life as he claimed.

Judging from the proposals he put forth, the breadth, depth, and precision of his thinking were astonishing. His vast knowledge, logical deductions, ingenious solutions—how could such a man truly be as childish as he said, driven by sentiment and dreams, willing to squander his precious youth?

His willingness to cooperate equally suggested that his true aspirations far exceeded the future Shuufuu could offer.

Moreover, his confidence was evident in his bold request for a loan of 1.5 billion yen.

Otherwise, how could such a young man interact as an equal with someone whose assets already amounted to tens of billions?

Such talented, confident youth deserved careful attention.

With this in mind, at their parting, Shuufuu Kinoshita finally spoke:

“1.5 billion—granting it to you personally under the guise of a company loan would be difficult to justify. Let me lend it to you myself, for a term of three years, no interest. But you must accept this gesture—be my project advisor, and help make the Minato Ward the most attractive place in Tokyo!”

Tao Zhimin was overjoyed. Such a boon!

Brother Shuufuu, you’ve widened your horizons.

Of course, Shuufuu Kinoshita had no idea that Tao Zhimin wasn’t targeting him.

Tao Zhimin simply felt that, regardless of their current status, everyone was, compared to him, ordinary.

…

After the driver arranged by Shuufuu Kinoshita dropped them off near home, Yousuke Ueno finally had some private time.

He’d been holding back all day, eager to ask a million questions, only to see Tao Zhimin looking grave.

Though his head wasn’t swiveling, his gaze swept the area ahead in subtle, seemingly normal movements.

Ueno suddenly remembered his morning concern about the North Castle group.

After meeting Hiroshi Oomiya today, he’d forgotten that danger, but Dailang, even after everything that happened, had not.

“Come on, let’s go home. Today was exhausting.”

“…”

Ueno had no words.

He didn’t see you as tired—it was as if today was your stage.

Ueno thought that two friends walking in silence might seem suspicious; after all, in the eyes of others, they were supposed to be friends.

So he quietly asked, “Are you really going to open a dance hall and a bookstore? I know nothing about dance halls! Last time, it was only with you that I got a glimpse.”

“You really don’t know anything,” Tao Zhimin replied in surprise. “Why would you think you’d be managing the dance hall?”

“…Didn’t you say you were preparing to manage the beautiful girls?” Ueno asked, bewildered.

“Oh, so that’s it,” Tao Zhimin suppressed a laugh and said seriously, “Since you can’t handle real-life beautiful girls, try managing the ones in manga and videos instead.”

Ueno was dumbfounded.

Looking at him, Tao Zhimin felt as though the words ‘the clown is myself’ were about to appear on his forehead.

“In the end, you’re a proud student of the University of Tokyo—don’t you feel ashamed to manage a dance hall?” Tao Zhimin continued, twisting the knife. “How could you have such a strange idea?”

“You bastard!” Ueno gritted his teeth, chasing after Tao Zhimin, who was laughing heartily as he entered the building.

He caught up, complaining, “Wouldn’t you feel ashamed to manage it yourself? Oh, right—from hell and back, you wouldn’t have such thoughts.”

“Who said I was going to manage the dance hall myself?” Tao Zhimin smiled. “What I care about now is financial management!”

Ueno was thoroughly confused.

Bookstores, dance halls—weren’t you going to manage them?

And over at Runa, wasn’t there also a closure task?

Ueno, though inexperienced and poor at social interaction, wasn’t stupid.

A sudden realization struck him.

On the staircase, the dim light cast a shifting shadow across Tao Dailang’s back.

His face, turning the corner, was unevenly lit, like a man walking the edge between light and darkness.

Yes, he’d forgotten—this was someone who had willingly dealt with the likes of the Shindo group.

Was the dance hall intended for cooperation with them?

Indeed, no one would be more suitable than those guys to maintain order in a disco dance hall.

But they were, after all, a yakuza organization! Did Dailang feel no fear?

If he intended to cooperate with the Shindo group, he’d have to offer them benefits. Judging from his actions these days, how could he possibly give away benefits for nothing?

“Dailang…” Once inside, Ueno said with concern, “Loans, borrowing money—don’t go too far. If it’s the Shindo group, you absolutely can’t cooperate that way!”

Tao Zhimin turned, surprised, at his expression, then smiled and patted his shoulder. “Thanks for your concern. Pretty sharp, Yousuke. Don’t worry, I always tailor my strategies flexibly to the other side’s needs. Don’t ask for now; let me check the accounts first. On a day like today, I specifically asked Kudou Chang Le to work overtime, waiting for my call.”

It was past nine. Yasuko had gone to bed, and Runa Onodera was standing in the living room.

She’d heard the key in the door, stood up to welcome them, and then overheard this conversation.

Normally polite, Ueno didn’t even greet her or say, “I’m home.”

So she too watched Tao Zhimin with concern.

Had something happened? What could make Ueno say such words as "know your limits"?

Tao Zhimin ignored this for now and called Kudou Chang Le.

At that moment, his account with Kudou Chang Le held over 260 million yen in margin. Aside from the 50 million mortgage loan, the 100 million sold to Ryu Inoue, and another 100 million “investment” drawn from him, plus the profits from the recent days of “shearing” with Ueno and earlier gains, this was the maximum he could reach by today, March 12.

Now, he eagerly awaited the result of his strategy—just how much had he earned today.