Chapter 289: Crumbling Empire ( 289 )

Words : 1100 Updated : Oct 11th, 2025

Chapter 289: Crumbling Empire ( 289 ) Fujiwara Corporation. The office doors burst open, the sound of heavy steps echoing through the marble floor. Several officials in dark suits entered with firm expressions, one of them stepping forward to present a document. "We have a court order to confiscate all company records, Mister Fujiwara." Fujiwara stood frozen for a moment, his mind struggling to process the words. "What... is the meaning of this?" he demanded, though his voice lacked its usual authority. The officials ignored his protest, already moving through the office with precise efficiency, opening filing cabinets, sealing boxes, and loading them onto carts. He could only watch as the empire he had built crumbled further before his eyes. For months, his businesses had been falling apart, branches closing, contracts dissolving, trusted partners withdrawing without warning. And now... this. Inside his mind, panic roared louder than the footsteps around him. Shit... shit... shit!! What is happening? Why isn’t anything going the way I planned? He grit his teeth, watching another cabinet get sealed shut and hauled away. I can’t get Kyouko... and now my business is crumbling. Shareholders are pulling out one after another... partners won’t even take my calls. His gaze darted toward the private safe hidden in the corner of his office, the only place holding what little remained of his fortune. No one is here to help me. No allies. No favors left to call in. His chest tightened, breath coming faster as the reality set in. Shit... I need to get out of Japan... with whatever money I have left... before they take even that. He moved quickly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the officials were too busy with the documents to notice. Bending down, he opened the hidden panel behind his desk and unlocked the safe with trembling fingers. Inside, his passport, a thick envelope stuffed with cash, and a small metal case containing the access codes to his private offshore account. He snatched them all in one swift motion, shoving the passport into his jacket and gripping the envelope tightly. At least I still have this... That account, buried deep outside Japan’s jurisdiction, was untouchable. No official could freeze it, no court could seize it. It was his last lifeline. While the officials were occupied, distracted by stacks of documents and blocked by his loyal men buying him time, Fujiwara slipped quietly through the side corridor. Each step was quick, measured, his grip tight around the envelope of cash. He pushed open the discreet service exit at the back of the building, the cold air hitting his face like a warning. His driver was already waiting by the curb, engine running. "Drive me to the airport. Now," Fujiwara ordered sharply as he slid into the back seat. "Yes, Mister Fujiwara," the driver replied, pulling away without hesitation. Once the car was in motion, Fujiwara pulled out his phone, his thumb moving quickly over the screen. He dialed a secure number, the one reserved for only a handful of people. The line clicked, and a familiar voice answered. "Prepare the plane," Fujiwara said curtly. "We leave as soon as I arrive." While the car sped through the streets, Fujiwara’s eyes kept darting to the side mirrors, scanning every vehicle behind them. Every black sedan, every motorbike lingering in the lane made his chest tighten. "Take the alternate route," he said sharply. "Avoid the main highway." "Yes, Mister Fujiwara." The driver adjusted course immediately, veering into a narrower road lined with old warehouses. Fujiwara reached into his jacket, pulling out his phone. His fingers moved quickly, dialing a number he hadn’t used in months. It rang twice before a gravelly voice answered. "It’s me," "Go to my private residence. Now. I want you to clear out the study and the bedroom safe,everything. No documents, no files, nothing with my name on it should be left behind. Burn it if you have to. And make sure you’re not followed." There was a pause. "Understood. I’ll handle it." Fujiwara ended the call and exhaled slowly. His hand felt damp against the smooth leather seat. The sedan rolled to a smooth stop at the private hangar entrance. Fujiwara stepped out quickly, his polished shoes striking the tarmac in brisk, controlled steps. His face was calm, but his pace betrayed the urgency boiling beneath. I have to get out of here before anything happens. The longer I stay, the more dangerous it gets. Relief washed over him for a moment, then his pilot, wearing a neat uniform, came up with a uneasy look. "Mister Fujiwara," the pilot said carefully, "we can’t take off right now. Clearance is delayed." Fujiwara frowned. "Delayed? For how long?" "I’m not sure, sir. The control tower said there’s a temporary hold because of ’administrative checks.’ It’s unusual, but—" "That’s an understatement," Fujiwara said sharply, his voice calm but dangerous. This wasn’t the kind of thing that happened by accident—not to him, not at this airport. He kept his expression steady, but inside he was already suspicious. Someone knows something. Someone’s trying to slow me down. His annoyance nagged at him, but he forced himself to stay calm. Losing his temper here would only make things worse. Fujiwara stepped closer to the pilot, his polished shoes stopping just a few inches away. His voice dropped to a low, commanding tone that left no room for negotiation. "You’ve been my pilot for years," he said, locking eyes with the man in a stare that felt like steel. "You know how important this is. I don’t care what you have to do, call in favors, bypass procedure, pay someone off if you must. Find a way to rush the clearance." Fujiwara’s lips curled into the faintest smirk, though his gaze stayed cold and calculating. "Do this for me, and you’ll be rewarded. More than you’ve ever been paid for a single job. Enough to make you forget any risk you’re taking." "Yes, Mister Fujiwara," the pilot replied, voice steady now. Without another word, the man turned and strode toward the hangar office, already pulling out his phone. Fujiwara could see him speaking in a low voice, his other hand gesturing sharply as if he were cutting through whatever excuse the control tower was giving. Fujiwara stayed where he was, one hand in his pocket, the other loosely gripping his own phone. His eyes scanned the airfield, watching the movement of every ground crew member, every unfamiliar face. Some were going about their business. Others... lingered too long. They watched too closely. ( End Of Chapter )

Chapter 289: Crumbling Empire ( 289 )

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