Chapter 69 – Confrontration with a Genius (2)

“Oil? Different from the one in Liao River?”

He was clearly caught off guard.

Even my grandfather showed a faint expression of “Whoa, you’re bringing that up now?”
But Ishiwara Kanji was too preoccupied to notice.

So I pressed the attack.

“That’s what you’re looking for, isn’t it? Oil. The estimated reserves of the oil field exceed 10 billion barrels. If Ootori mobilizes its full strength, we can promise an annual production of 50 million tons within five years.”

(Ugh, that sounded kind of like a villainess line…)

I was getting a little carried away with my own dramatic delivery, but Ishiwara Kanji, sitting across from me, had his eyes wide open in shock.
He even had beads of sweat on his forehead.

But it wasn’t from panic or pressure—it was the sweat of a genius’s mind spinning at full throttle.

“If you’re willing to call off your scheme, I’ll tell you where it is. For us, the Liao River field is already more than sufficient for the time being.”

I pushed further, but it seemed like he was only half-listening, lost in thought.
A good ten seconds passed after my offer before he finally opened his mouth.

(Alright, I’ve just dropped a secret I haven’t even shared with Idemitsu-san yet. I’m expecting an interesting answer.)

“I’ll trust that your story isn’t a lie. You’ve got a track record, after all, and it’s so outlandish that it’s easier to believe than to dismiss. But before I give you an answer, let me ask you something. If I hadn’t heard your story—what exactly would I have done?”

(Now then, how should I play this?)

I hesitated a moment and glanced at my grandfather.
He had his eyes closed, deep in thought.

That was his way of telling me I could handle this however I liked.

(In that case, I’ll go all in.)

“You’d talk about creating a utopia in Manchuria, crush the local warlords, and establish a puppet state. From what I hear, many of your comrades are even considering full annexation by Japan. Though, it seems that’s not your true intention, is it, Ishiwara-sama?”

I intentionally phrased it harshly, but instead of getting angry, he gave a sly grin in return.

“So you’ve seen through everything, have you? It’s been a long time since I’ve been this surprised. So, what—is the plan to pull me alone out of the scheme and aim for the annexation of Manchuria and Mongolia?”

“If anything, I’d prefer it all fell apart in a muddled mess.”

“Muddled mess?”

“Oh—pardon me. You’re right, even if only you were removed, something similar would likely still happen. But if it does, it would actually be better if things couldn’t be brought under control.”

“If it actually succeeds, Japan will found a nation in Manchuria, get condemned by all the world powers, become completely isolated, and in the end, join a second world war as a latecomer on the losing side—and lose badly. So badly we won’t even be able to make a sound in protest. Just as you imagined it, Ishiwara-sama.”

(Now, what do you say to that? Will he finally get mad?)

But even that level of provocation didn’t seem to faze him.
In fact, it looked like his intellectual curiosity had only been piqued. 

What a difficult man.

“Well, let’s set aside what happens afterward. So you’re saying that if I don’t take part, everything ends in a ‘muddled mess,’ huh?”

“I can’t see beyond that point, but the chances of it becoming a muddled mess are very high. After all, there’s no one else in Japan right now who could execute such a plan of conquest as perfectly as you could, Ishiwara-sama.”

When I said that, he looked momentarily dumbfounded—then burst into hearty laughter.
It was an incredibly cheerful laugh.

“This is great! You’re not wrong in your assessment. If it’s not me, it’s impossible. Well, I haven’t drafted a concrete plan yet, though. But the so-called brilliant fools don’t understand—outside of theory—that if you strike the snake’s head first, the rest follows.”

As Ishiwara Kanji fixed me with an intense gaze, I looked right back, feeling clearly that he had no intention of stepping off the path he’d chosen.

(I knew it. Still, within expectations—no, just as predicted. History has already proven that the only way to stop this man is to isolate him from the military.)

Thinking that, I continued speaking.

“So, you have no intention of changing your course of action.”

“Exactly. It’s a shame I won’t get to eat those delicious sweets in Manchuria, but this is something I cannot bend on. Besides, I might as well take your ‘Ootori Priestess’ as having prophesied my success. If I stopped now, I’d lose my honor as a man.”

(Well, I’d prefer you did lose it, honestly. But I guess that’s how it is.)

I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.

This man really does have a certain charisma.
When he gets like this, it’s almost enough to make me want to support him.

“We might not be able to send it by plane, but Ootori will still see to it that sweets are delivered to you regularly. Also—if you’re going to go through with this, then do it perfectly, as quickly as possible, and without wasting time or effort. Ootori will support you as best we can.”

“So in return, you’re aiming to monopolize the massive oil field.”

“I think that level of benefit is fair compensation. Although, in truth, I’d much rather we never have to drill at all.”

“Why? I don’t understand.”

“The stuff from America is cheaper and higher quality. Even the lubricants we import for our machine tools—they have to be American-made. Besides, there are oil fields all over the world. Oh, and this is the biggest issue: Manchurian oil is really low quality—we’re struggling with it even in the Liao River.”

“That’s the mindset of a merchant. What if conflict cuts off that supply?”

“That’s why we struck oil in the Liao River. The Navy was overjoyed. With Japan’s current maritime strength and the Navy’s needs, that’s more than enough.”

“But in the end, you’re still pushing me forward. Why?”

“Well, part of it is just how the conversation’s gone. And also…I’ve realized that I don’t think I could ever bring myself to truly hate you. So I figured, maybe it’s worth taking the gamble. But if you’re going to do it—”

“You’ll want me to do it thoroughly, right?”

“Yes, but—please, absolutely no reckless overreach or unilateral action. I really, really mean it—don’t go it alone. If you’re going to act, do it in step with the military’s top brass, the government—especially the foreign ministry. Otherwise, no matter what anyone does, we’ll all regret it.”

I spoke as firmly and clearly as I could.
This was the crucial point.

“Foreign ministry, huh. If it’s a Seiyukai cabinet, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

(No. He doesn’t get it at all. Or maybe, from a genius like him, all of this just seems unbearably slow and tedious.)

“That’s exactly why I’m telling you—what good is it if the government’s always playing catch-up? It’s going to leave problems everywhere. And more importantly, Ishiwara-sama, you are going to be the one who gets undermined.”

“Me?”

He asked with genuine surprise—like he truly couldn’t understand it.
This is why geniuses are such a pain.

“If you go ahead with unilateral actions and get results, it sets a precedent. People will start thinking it’s okay to ignore the chain of command. After you, you’ll have a bunch of ‘Little Ishiwara’s doing the same thing. One after another, making a mess of things.”

“I doubt there’s anyone in the Army who can imitate me. Maybe Nagata-san or your uncle Tatsuya at best.”

He stroked his chin and said it almost smugly, but he wasn’t bragging—he genuinely believed it.

(This is hopeless. It’s honestly at the point where I want to say ‘forget it.’)

“Even if they can’t do it perfectly, they’ll still try to imitate you. At the very least, there will be plenty of ‘Little Ishiwara’s who think they can. Elites tend to be dangerously clever like that. And the Army is Japan’s biggest gathering of elites, isn’t it?”

I laid out the words as clearly and digestible as possible.

And finally—even this supremely confident genius seemed to grasp it, if only a little.

“…Are you telling me that many fools are going to pop up? Who are they?”

(I really want to say ‘Mutou’ or something, but… yeah, I can’t go there. What should I say instead…)

Ishiwara Kanji, who clearly didn’t understand what I was saying at all, looked like he was about to go around hunting down these “Little Ishiharas” and telling them, “You’re an idiot? Then cut it out.”

Still, I suppose this is the best proof that people don’t really learn until they trip and fall for themselves.

Even a genius ends up like this.
No—because he’s a genius, maybe that’s why he ends up like this.

“Haa~~…”

A sigh escaped me, far too deep to be casual.

And right on cue, my grandfather burst into laughter.

(Don’t just laugh—help me convince him, you old man!)

Grumbling silently in my heart, I gave him a sidelong glare of exasperation.

It seems my persuasion attempt has reached its limit.
My sigh must have come across as a declaration of surrender. 

Which, to be fair, it was.

“Ishiwara, the family—well, the Ootori Group—will support you as much as possible. It’s for Japan’s sake, after all.”

“That’s very reassuring. In that case, I’ll take tanks or airplanes. Preferably both.”

(That’s what you want? How about thinking a little more about politics and diplomacy?! Even a little girl is doing her best to think about this seriously, you know!)

I couldn’t help but glare back at the carefree man before me, irritation bubbling up.

I was seriously on the verge of losing it.

“Do you really think I have that kind of authority?”

“Of course not. What you’re good at, Ootori-kakka, is intrigue. Even I must admit, I wouldn’t be able to match someone of your years and experience. You have my deepest respect.”

He placed both hands on his knees and bowed deeply to my grandfather with utmost respect.

Ishiwara Kanji had absolutely known what he was doing when he asked for tanks.
The proof was in the way he turned from that bow with a sly grin directed at me.

“That was truly enjoyable. I wouldn’t have believed you’re not even ten years old. So then—where is this oil field, Countess?”

“…I’ll tell you once you’ve completed the perfect occupation of all of Manchuria.”

“Perfectly, huh? So it’s somewhere around where the Russkies are.”

“Bullseye. You really are even more impressive than the rumors say.”

“I’ll return those words to you. I haven’t been this surprised in a long, long time. And the sweets were delicious too. Today’s been a good day.”

He nodded repeatedly, as if genuinely satisfied.

And then he added one last thing.

“Oh, yes—could I get the rest of these packed up to take with me?”

“There’s more in the back, so help yourself. But anything with fresh cream spoils quickly, so you’ll have to give up on those.”

“To think there exists something in this world that I must give up… You’ve scored the final point today.”

“No I didn’t.”

I couldn’t help replying bluntly.

No matter what I do, it seems I’ll never be able to truly beat a real genius.

Mutou

Mutou Akira

Did a lot of damage, and as he held major positions during the war, he was executed as a Class-A war criminal.
You could say he was someone who tried to imitate Nagata Tetsuzan.

A sharp mind.
But too full of confidence, which led to him getting tripped up and failing.