Reborn in Tokyo: From Heiress to Global Tycoon

Chapter 91 The Paradise of the North

The outline of Mount Yotei looked particularly stark against the leaden sky.

This volcano, known as "Ezo Fuji," silently gazes down upon the vast wilderness below. The wind rolls down from the summit, whistling through the dense coniferous forest like waves crashing against rocks.

This is Niseko.

Just over ten hours ago, Satsuki and Amy were in Tomakomai Port, filled with the smells of diesel fuel and fish, watching the giant steel ship devour trucks. Now, they stood in knee-deep powder snow, surrounded by the sound of the wind, with no other machinery in sight.

The world's color palette shifted from industrial black and gray to a pure, dizzying white.

"Click."

Black leather boots crushed the hard outer layer of snow and sank into the soft, powdery snow.

Satsuki wrapped her white fur coat tighter around herself. This coat was a high-end sample from S-Collection; though a sample, the materials used were comparable to a Toyota Crown. Against the backdrop of the swirling snow, she almost blended into the snowfield, with only her long, black hair and pink lips behind her sunglasses standing out.

"Is this... the land that Satsuki-chan bought?"

Amy struggled to pull her legs out, stumbling along behind. She carried a thick folder in her hands, containing the land ownership certificate and survey maps.

"To be precise, it starts from this rock under your feet, extends all the way to the end of that fir forest over there, and then over that small hill."

Satsuki raised her gloved hand and drew a huge circle in the air.

"These 150 hectares of forest and slopes now belong to Saionji."

Not far ahead of them, a middle-aged man in a black trench coat was squatting on the snow. He wasn't wearing a hat, his gray hair was a little messy from the wind, and he had a long, artistic scarf around his neck.

Kisho Kurokawa.

This architect, renowned for his "symbiotic theory," is now intently drawing something on the snow with a twig. His expression is focused and fervent, as if this desolate snowfield is the largest canvas of his life.

Satsuki walked behind him without interrupting.

Kurokawa drew a few extremely simple lines. The lines follow the contours of the mountains, disappearing into the gaps in the trees, neither abrupt nor ostentatious, as if they were the natural veins growing out of this forest.

"Miss Saionji".

After a long while, Kurokawa threw away the branch in his hand and stood up. He brushed the snow off his hands and turned around.

"Your land is truly exceptional."

He pointed to the lush, primeval fir forest behind him.

"I've looked at the weather data and topographic maps from the past few days. The snow here is top-quality powder, and the wind direction is very stable. If we were to build a resort here, my suggestion would be—'seclusion'."

Kurokawa pulled out a well-worn sketchbook from his pocket, opened it to a page, and handed it to Satsuki.

The drawings depict a minimalist architectural complex.

All the buildings are low-slung, with roofs sloping parallel to the mountain behind them. They are scattered deep in the forest and connected by winding wooden walkways.

"This is the Hidden Village."

Kurokawa's voice sounded somewhat faint in the cold wind.

"There are only thirty guest rooms. Each one is independently hidden in the folds of the forest and the terrain. The exterior uses charred cedar planks and local volcanic rock, and over time, the building will slowly change color and eventually blend completely into the forest."

"There's no television, no telephone, not even any obvious electric lighting. Or rather, all modern amenities are hidden beneath nature. There's only a fireplace, books, and floor-to-ceiling windows facing Mount Yotei."

Kurokawa looked at Satsuki, his tone becoming impassioned.

"This is true 'symbiosis.' For old aristocratic families like the Saionji family, or for those great figures who truly know how to enjoy life, this undisturbed tranquility, this privilege of conversing with nature, is true luxury."

"We shouldn't use concrete to force this land; we should cling to it like moss."

Amy listened intently. Looking at the sketch, she imagined herself reading by the fireplace in a snowy forest on a snowy night. The image was indeed beautiful, breathtakingly so.

"Great design."

Satsuki closed the sketchbook and returned it to Kurokawa.

Her tone was calm, offering neither praise nor objection.

"This philosophy of 'Zen' and 'seclusion' truly aligns with Mr. Kurokawa's consistent standards. Thirty rooms, if priced high enough, such as 200,000 yen per night, could sustain operations."

A satisfied smile spread across Kurokawa's face. He thought his plan had been approved.

"but."

Satsuki turned around, her back to the deep forest, and faced the vast, flat slope that stretched all the way to the road.

"Mr. Kurokawa, if we only build these thirty rooms, where should we put the remaining tens of billions of yen in our budget?"

Kurokawa's smile froze on his face.

"Several...hundreds of billions?"

"Yes."

Satsuki took off her sunglasses, revealing a pair of clear eyes.

"To be honest, the Saionji family has too much money right now, it's such a waste to just leave it in the bank. We need to spend it quickly."

It sounds like a spendthrift young lady wasting money, but when Satsuki says it, it sounds so convincing.

"My father said he would punish me if I didn't spend the money. (No, he didn't.)"

She spoke with a smile, extending her gloved fingers and drawing a line in the air across the vast snowfield.

"Your 'Hidden Village' is reserved."

"Place it deep within that forest. That's the 'core area.' There are no signs, no casual visitors, and it's only open to select top members. It's a secluded paradise prepared for important people who don't want to be seen."

Satsuki paused for a moment, then a slight smile appeared on her lips.

"However, those thirty important figures alone cannot support this mountain. They wouldn't even cover the cost of snow removal."

"We must use the noise from the outside to nourish the silence within."

"The... commotion outside?" Kurokawa frowned, a sense of foreboding creeping over him. "You mean, you're going to build a high-rise on that hillside? Like the Prince Hotel owned by the Seibu Group?"

"How could that be? You want me to build those long, rectangular cement boxes here? Do you think the Saionji family looks like nouveau riche?"

Satsuki shook her head, a look of disdain on her face.

"Those matchbox-like concrete skyscrapers are so tacky. They're like pigeon coops for tour groups."

She took two steps forward, her high heels leaving a deep footprint in the snow.

"I want to build five hundred villas here, on this fifty-hectare gentle slope."

Five hundred buildings?!

Amy gasped in surprise.

"Saionji-kun, are you planning to develop real estate here? But this is a resort area; nobody's going to buy houses here to live permanently!"

"Who said they were selling?"

Satsuki turned her head and looked at Amy, a hint of mockery in her eyes.

"Not for sale. Not a single square meter."

"These villas are essentially 'dispersed luxury guest rooms'."

She looked back at the snowfield, as if brightly lit buildings had already sprung up there.

"Amy, Mr. Kurokawa, you need to understand one thing."

"Next year, Tokyoites will be very rich. Extremely rich. Their pockets will be stuffed with year-end bonuses and stock dividends, and they desperately need a place to prove they've joined the 'upper class.'"

"However, they are not yet wealthy enough to buy a villa in Hokkaido, employ a group of servants, and only come to stay for two weeks each year."

What they need is an "experience." An "illusion."

Satsuki opened her arms.

"We want to rent out these 500 villas by the night. 50,000 or 100,000 yen per night."

"On this night, this detached house, this private hot spring pool, this snow view facing Mount Yotei, even the butler shoveling snow at the door... all belong to them."

What we're selling is the "illusion of owning territory in Hokkaido".

"This is the poison that the middle class craves most."

Kisho Kurokawa stood there, stunned.

As an architect, he was used to considering space, light and shadow, and structure. But this naked commercial deconstruction that targeted human weaknesses gave him a kind of physiological shock.

"Five hundred villas..." Kurokawa muttered to himself, "That requires an extremely large amount of supporting facilities. Restaurants, shops, entertainment... If there are only villas, they'll be bored to death at night."

"That's right."

Satsuki snapped her fingers.

"Therefore, we need a heart."

She walked to the center of the snowfield and drew a huge circle on the snow with her toes.

"Here."

"Mr. Kurokawa, I want you to design a 'Paradise Hall' here."

"Paradise Pavilion?"

"A giant complex with a full glass dome."

Satsuki raised her head and looked at the gloomy sky.

"Outside, it's snowing heavily at minus twenty degrees Celsius, but inside the glass enclosure, I want it to be a tropical rainforest with a constant temperature of twenty-five degrees Celsius."

"I want it to have upscale shopping streets, Michelin-starred restaurants, jazz bars, and even..."

She paused, a glint of madness flashing in her eyes.

"There should even be a huge artificial beach. There should be waves and coconut trees."

"During the day, they ski on the slopes, experiencing the harsh cold of the North. At night, they brave the snow and wind, step into this glowing glass dome, and drink champagne under the coconut trees while wearing swimsuits."

"This is called 'out-of-season luxury'."

"This is called 'conquering nature'."

Satsuki turned around and looked at Kisho Kurokawa, who was completely stunned.

"Mr. Kurokawa, isn't your theory of 'metabolism' essentially advocating that architecture should grow and change like a living organism?"

"On one side is the ultimate 'Zen and seclusion,' hiding deep in the forest, coexisting with nature."

"On one side is the ultimate 'vulgarity and desire,' standing in the middle of the snowfield; it is the embodiment of human desire."

"One still, one moving; one elegant, one common; one cold, one warm."

"Isn't this the perfect 'binary opposition'? Isn't this the most accurate reflection of contemporary Japanese society?"

Kisho Kurokawa felt his breathing become rapid.

He looked at the vast expanse of white snow.

In his mind, the enormous, golden glass dome had already risen from the ground. It was like a sun fallen on a snowfield, greedily devouring the surrounding darkness. And around it, five hundred villas, like a group of pilgrims, were scattered across the hillside.

This contrast.

This is a grand narrative of building a city out of thin air in the wilderness.

This is indeed a challenge that every architect dreams of.

"He's gone mad..."

Kurokawa's hands were trembling. He pulled a pencil from his pocket, and without even sharpening it, he used his teeth to bite off the wood shavings from the tip.

"This is absolutely insane..."

He crouched down and began frantically sketching lines in the sketchbook.

The lines are no longer the restrained, subtle ones they used to be.

This time, the brushstrokes are wild and unrestrained. The enormous dome structure, the complex flow of movement, and the domineering sense of imposing human will on nature leap off the page.

"Here..." Kurokawa muttered to himself as he drew, "The glass curtain wall needs a special double-layer structure to solve the problems of condensation and insulation... The energy center needs to be underground... There needs to be a scenic avenue leading directly to the entrance to the dome..."

"Yes, that's it."

Satsuki stood behind him, watching the enormous thing gradually take shape.

She maintained a polite smile.

Amy, clutching the folder, moved closer to Satsuki.

"Satsuki-chan..." Amy whispered, "Is this... really okay? How much will this cost? And... the maintenance costs will be astronomical, right? That glass cover, just the heating bill alone..."

"Yes, an astronomical figure."

Satsuki answered softly, her voice only audible to Amy.

"This monster that defies the laws of nature is just burning money. Every second is like throwing banknotes into a furnace."

"Then why...?"

Amy was puzzled. She studied science and engineering, a field that values ​​efficiency and cost control. This kind of operating model, which was clearly destined to lose money, made no sense at all.

Satsuki turned her head and looked at Amy.

Amidst the swirling snow, a young girl, with the most innocent and carefree smile, is describing a fairytale world to her friends.

"Amy, the value of some things isn't about whether they can cover the electricity bill."

Satsuki's voice was very soft, as if it would be blown away by the wind.

"We're not selling rooms, and we're not selling tickets. We're creating a 'myth'."

She pointed to the back of the master who was frantically drawing, and to the wasteland that was about to be filled with money.

"When this glass palace lights up on the snowfield, when all of Tokyo is talking about its luxury, the name 'Saionji' will become a kind of faith."

"We will become the dream makers of this country."

Amy looked at Satsuki's profile and nodded, seemingly understanding.

But what Satsuki didn't say was that dreamers never dream themselves.

She silently calculated the timetable in her mind.

It is now April 1988. Construction has begun, and momentum is being built.

When the first light of the glass dome called "Gokurakukan" was lit on the snowfield in the winter of 1989, it was the height of the Japanese bubble economy.

At that time, all the nouveau riche in Tokyo will flock here, waving their banknotes.

That was also the best time to package and sell this "myth".

Yoshiaki Tsutsumi of the Seibu Group, the world's richest man with a penchant for "collecting mountains," could never refuse such a crown in Hokkaido.

These five hundred villas, this money-burning glass dome, and even this so-called top-tier membership circle (The Club's core members would leave early), from the very beginning, were a poison she had meticulously prepared for the Seibu Group, coated with honey.

We are applying oil to the pig.

So that it could be placed on the altar at the climax of the festival.

Of course, Satsuki wouldn't tell Amy these things.

"Okay, Amy. It's too cold in here, let's wait in the car."

Satsuki casually changed the subject, tightening her collar.

"It's finished!"

Kisho Kurokawa suddenly stood up, holding the sketchbook in his hand, his eyes burning with the fervor of a child.

"Miss Saionji! Look! This is the ultimate form of 'symbiosis'! The symbiosis of desire and nature!"

On the drawing, the enormous glass dome gleams against the snow-covered plain, surrounded by a cluster of villas like stars around the moon. In a corner of the picture, deep within the forest, a few low-lying houses can be vaguely seen.

"Perfect."

Satsuki smiled and clapped.

"Mr. Kurokawa, this is what I wanted."

"Budget is not a problem. I only have one requirement: speed."

"I want to see it lit up by this time next year. Saionji Construction and Saionji Industrial will fully cooperate with you and your firm."

"No problem!" Kurokawa clutched the sketchbook tightly to his chest. "I'll mobilize the entire agency's resources! This will be my masterpiece!"

The sun began to set in the west.

The orange-red sunset dyed the snow-capped peak of Mount Yotei a golden-red hue, as if it were a harbinger of an impending volcanic eruption.

The wind picked up more, whipping up snow dust that stung my face.

"Let's go."

Satsuki tightened the collar of her fur coat and turned to walk toward the SUV parked by the roadside.

"The play here is over."

"Where to next?" Amy quickly followed, stepping in Satsuki's footprints, one deep and one shallow.

"Go to the Jakarta Peninsula."

Satsuki didn't turn around; her voice was broken in the wind.

"Let me show you the real 'Imperial Kitchen'."

"The Imperial Kitchen?"

"yes."

Satsuki opened the car door and got in. The warm air from the car instantly dispelled the chill.

She took one last look through the car window at the snowfield that was about to be filled with money and desire.

"This is a paradise built for ordinary people, and they eat feed that we produce industrially—no matter how beautifully packaged, it's still feed."

"But some things money can't buy."

"For example, time, life, or... a wild strawberry picked from a cliff, untouched by a speck of dust."

The car door closed.

The black SUV started up, its tires crunching over the snow.

The car slowly drove away from the quiet valley and headed towards the northwest coastline.

On the snowfield behind him, Kisho Kurokawa still stood there, waving his arms at the empty valley.

As the wind and snow intensified, his figure gradually became blurred.

The wildest idea of ​​the bubble era, a concrete manifestation of Japan's expansionist desires, is about to rise from this desolate snowfield under the power of capital.

I watched as he built his magnificent mansion.