RBCT Chapter 239 Triggering Clause! Toho's Bowing Head
Chapter 239 Triggering Clause! Toho's Bowing Head
Chapter 239 Triggering Clause! Toho's Bowing Head
In its third week of release, the theatrical version of "Bayside Shakedown" not only did not weaken at the box office, but also experienced an extremely dramatic reversal due to the widespread positive word-of-mouth.
On Wednesday afternoon, the national box office data was compiled.
3.15 billion yen.
When this figure was released, the entire Japanese film industry fell silent, devoid of any discussion, leaving only an eerie stillness. The 3 billion yen mark, in the past, was the ceiling that big-budget, realistic films could barely reach, even with their best efforts and long runs. But Kitahara Shin achieved it in less than twenty days.
Based on this attendance curve, 5 billion is not only not an exaggeration, but may even be a conservative estimate.
However, at this moment of shock to the entire industry, the atmosphere in the office of the head of the distribution department at Toho Cinemas headquarters was as somber as if a funeral was being held.
Distribution manager Matsui stared intently at the joint distribution contract on the table, his forehead beaded with cold sweat that soaked his hair. Standing beside him was Toho's chief legal counsel, equally ashen-faced.
The additional clauses in the contract clearly state in black and white: "If the film's domestic box office exceeds 3 billion yen, Toho Cinemas must unconditionally provide the highest priority screenings in subsequent release periods. This includes, but is not limited to, allocating the largest screening rooms in core cinema chains nationwide, prioritizing prime time slots, and priority distribution rights for subsequent films in the series."
Matsui was full of mockery when he signed the contract.
In his view, a spin-off film of a midday TV drama would be lucky to gross 1.5 billion yen. Kitahara Shin's insistence on adding the "3 billion yen equivalent clause" was nothing more than the impetuousness of a young man who didn't know his own limitations. He signed the agreement with great generosity at the time, only to obtain concessions from Kitahara Shin on the "risk-sharing ratio."
He considered it a joke that would never be triggered.
But now, the gun is loaded and pressed directly against his forehead.
"Minister—" The legal representative adjusted his glasses, his voice dry, "The Kitahara office sent a fax this morning demanding we fulfill the contract. If we refuse to comply with the highest priority," they could not only sue us for breach of contract, but also have the right to cut off the remaining key, transferring the remaining screening period, along with future theatrical sequels, entirely to Shochiku or Toei."
Matsui's eye twitched suddenly.
That's the most critical issue. The old foxes at Shochiku and Toei are practically drooling with envy, scrutinizing Toho's film schedule every day, looking for any loopholes. If Toho were to drive away their cash cow, "Bayside Shakedown," at this crucial juncture, the board of directors would practically tear them apart.
But fulfilling the contract? "Highest priority" means he has to forcibly move the Hollywood blockbuster that's coming out next week, as well as the big-budget production invested in by Toho's own studio, from theater number one in major cinemas to smaller theaters.
This offends Hollywood distributors and their own production executives!
Matsui paced back and forth in his office, weighing the pros and cons. A few minutes later, he gritted his teeth and abruptly stopped.
Even the best Hollywood blockbusters only bring in a fixed salary (low commission rate); he knows perfectly well what kind of garbage his own studio's films are. The only real core interests that Toho can truly profit from are the 5 billion, or even 6 billion, of the lucrative business in Kitahara Shin's hands, and the inevitable sequel, *Bayside Shakedown 2*!
"Prepare the car." Matsui took a deep breath and quickly straightened his tie. "Take the legal counsel with you and head to the Kitahara office."
Let's lower our guard; we misjudged them this time.
3 PM, Kitahara Office, top-floor conference room.
Secretary Aida walked in carrying two cups of hot tea, gently placed them in front of Matsui and the legal department, and then stepped back to stand behind Kitahara Nobu.
Ota Masakazu sat next to Kitahara Shin, looking at Minister Matsui sitting upright across from him, with half of his buttocks dangling from the edge of the chair, and felt incredibly pleased.
He still remembered how arrogant Minister Matsui was when he went to Toho's headquarters to discuss the contract two weeks ago. At that time, Matsui was leaning back on a large leather sofa, smoking a cigar, and saying things like "Young people should understand the rules of the theater industry" and "3 billion yen is an unrealistic fantasy."
Now, the cigars are gone, the arrogance is gone, and all that's left is a fawning smile.
"President Kitahara," Matsui said, holding the teacup with both hands, his posture extremely humble, "the achievement of 3 billion yen has truly opened the eyes of the entire industry. Toho is honored to participate in the distribution of this cinematic masterpiece."
-
Kitahara Shin flipped through the documents in his hand, ignoring the polite remark, and simply said in a flat tone, "Minister Matsui personally brought the legal department here today; it's probably not just to offer congratulations. Has the film schedule for next week been finalized?"
Matsui's smile froze for a moment, then he quickly adjusted his expression, speaking in a tone of negotiation, even pleading: "President Kitahara, we absolutely agree to the equal terms of the contract. However—Die Hard 3 is coming out in Hollywood next week, and this theater agreement was finalized six months in advance. Could you perhaps reserve two large theaters in some of the core theaters in Shinjuku and Shibuya for them? Toho will absolutely allocate all remaining resources to *Bad Investigation Network*!"
He was testing the waters. That's how business negotiations are; even if you lose, you try to minimize the damage you take.
Just as Ota was about to retort, Kitahara Shin raised his hand to stop him.
Kitahara Shin closed the file, interlaced his fingers on the table, and looked into Matsui's eyes.
"Minister Matsui, the spirit of contracts is fundamental to doing business." Kitahara Shin's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable sense of authority. "The contract states it's the highest priority," so the idea of "keeping two large halls" doesn't apply.
He leaned forward slightly, striking at Matsui's weak spot: "The distribution director of Shochiku Cinemas has called Ota three times since yesterday. They're even willing to pay the penalty for breach of contract, just to ask us to transfer the screening rights for the second half of the film to them. I haven't agreed yet because I remember that Toho ultimately withstood the pressure from the conglomerate regarding the opening week's screenings."
Cold sweat poured down Matsui's forehead in an instant.
Kitahara Shin's words were a combination of soft and hard tactics. They both warned that Toho could be replaced at any time, and gave Matsui face, treating the fact that the theater manager had changed the screening schedule without authorization in order to make money as a "favor" from Toho headquarters.
This is giving him a way out.
Matsui was a smart man; he knew this was his last chance. If he haggled any further, this cash cow would truly be gone.
"I see."
Matsui suddenly stood up and bowed deeply to Kitahara Shin with utmost sincerity: "President Kitahara, rest assured, starting tomorrow, all of Toho's directly operated and franchised cinemas nationwide, including the largest screening rooms No. 1 and No. 2, will be dedicated to 'The Great Search' 24/7! All Hollywood films will be postponed or moved to smaller theaters."
He straightened up, looked at Kitahara Shin, his eyes revealing not only compromise but also the long-term calculation of a shrewd businessman: "Toho will use absolute sincerity to ensure this film reaches the throne of 5 billion yen. I only hope that—President Kitahara will give Toho priority when preparing for the theatrical sequel."
This is the true face of capital. There is no such thing as eternal supremacy, only eternal interests. When Kitahara Shin demonstrates his overwhelming ability to attract money, his former arrogance will instantly transform into the most submissive bowing.
"That's natural."
Kitahara Shin finally revealed a very faint smile. He picked up the pen on the table, signed his name on a supplementary agreement confirming the adjustment of the film schedule, and pushed it over.
"It's a pleasure working with you, Minister Matsui."
Matsui accepted the agreement with a sigh of relief, bowed again, and said, "It's a pleasure working with you!"
Watching Matsui and the legal team hurriedly leave, Ota Masakazu finally couldn't help but let out a long sigh of relief, leaning back in his chair, feeling completely refreshed.
"President, we've completely forced Toho to drink water," Ota sighed.
"They weren't forced into it by me, they were forced into it by the market." Kitahara Shin stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and looked down at the bustling streets of Tokyo. "The foundation for the 5 billion yen has been laid. Next, it's time to settle accounts with those who were sabotaging us in the shadows."
In the evening after the Toho executives left, Kitahara Shin's office welcomed another guest.
The elevator doors dinged open, and the man who stepped out was dressed in an extremely sophisticated high-end bespoke suit, his hair meticulously combed. If one ignored the half-tattoo faintly visible at the edge of his collar, anyone would mistake him for a business director of some listed company.
This is Takayama, the former head of the Takayama Group and now the president of Kitahara Security & Logistics Holdings Co., Ltd.
"Boss." Takayama walked into the office, bowed his head with utmost respect, and then placed a heavy brown paper bag on Kitahara Shin's desk with both hands.
Kitahara Shin gestured to the sofa opposite him: "Sit down. Have you figured it out?"
"Fujiwara Building Materials Group's core trump cards for the past three years are all here." Takayama sat down on the sofa, his back ramrod straight. "The set of ledgers he used to fool the tax bureau is useless. These are copies of the dual ledgers he hid in a safe of a shell company in Chiyoda Ward. In addition, there are several bank statements showing how he secretly laundered money for those old guys in the conglomerate to overseas accounts."
Kitahara Shin tore open the kraft paper bag, pulled out a few photocopies, and glanced at them.
The figures and account details above are extremely clear, and each transaction is enough to send this once arrogant building materials tycoon, who was once an invincible figure in the Ginza teahouse, to spend the rest of his life in prison.
"You moved quickly." Kitahara Shin tossed the copy back onto the table, glanced up at Takayama, and said, "You didn't leave any loose ends, did you? I told you, now that the company is big enough, those old yakuza tactics of violence and robbery can't be used anymore."
"Don't worry, it's absolutely clean. It's all done through personal connections and shady dealings." Gao Shan smiled, his smile revealing a shrewd, seasoned air of the underworld.
He explained to Kitahara Shin how this intelligence network operated. They didn't send anyone to break into safes, nor did they kidnap or intimidate Fujiwara's family. In Tokyo of this era, the truly terrifying aspect of the yakuza was never the knife in their hands, but the network deeply embedded in the lowest levels of society.
"Fujiwara's private driver got addicted to pachinko and racked up a mountain of high-interest loans. One of our guys helped him settle the debts; he just happened to get drunk while drinking and had us copy his dashcam." Takayama recounted calmly, "Following a secret address he frequented, we found the shell company. Coincidentally, the building's security guard and the janitor who collected the garbage were both outsourced employees of our security company."
No bloodshed or illegal activity is needed. The security guard takes advantage of a blind spot in the surveillance, the cleaner pieces together clues from shredder scraps and trash cans, and then a few knowledgeable finance colleagues follow the trail.
This is the power of penetration into the grassroots. Those high-ranking financial tycoons will never notice that the people who drive for them, take out their trash, and guard their doors have long since woven a deadly web.
"The guys down there worked incredibly hard this time. They uncovered many clues by staying up for days and nights without sleep." Takayama looked at Kitahara Shin, his eyes filled with heartfelt awe and gratitude. "Everyone knew it was something you, Boss, had assigned them, so they all rushed to do it."
This is not just polite talk.
The Takayama Group used to collect protection money on the streets of Shinjuku, living a life of constant danger and risk. It was Kitahara Shin who pointed them in the right direction last year and intervened forcefully, making them take off their blood-stained suits and put on the uniforms of legitimate security and logistics companies.
Now, these former gangsters receive generous and clean salaries every month, bonuses during holidays, and can walk with their heads held high. Many have even bought houses on mortgages and gotten married. Their children no longer have to feel ashamed at school because their fathers are "Yakuza".
Kitahara Shin gave them human dignity. So when Kitahara Shin needed them to return to their old profession of intelligence gathering, the loyalty and professionalism they displayed was something that money couldn't buy.
"Brothers, you've worked hard." Kitahara Shin nodded. "You did a great job on this mission. I'll take some money from my personal account and distribute it to the brothers who participated as a year-end bonus."
"On behalf of my brothers, thank you, boss!" Gao Shan stood up and bowed deeply.
After sitting down again, Takayama looked at the composed Kitahara Shin and, recalling the changes over the past two years, couldn't help but feel a little sentimental.
"Boss, to be honest, I've been feeling quite emotional these past few days." Takayama sighed. "A couple of days ago, the boss of the Oshima Group, the same Oshima who used to hang out with me in Shinjuku, was arrested by the police on the street."
Kitahara Shin picked up his teacup and listened quietly.
"After the government enacted the Anti-Organized Crime Law in 92, the policies became stricter day by day. Yakuza members couldn't even open a bank account, and if they made a little noise while collecting protection money, they would be arrested and sentenced. But the people on Oshima couldn't see through it. They clung to those plummeting real estate properties and nightclubs, always thinking that the bubble could recover, and refused to transform their businesses no matter what."
Gao Shan shook his head, his tone tinged with a mixture of relief and lingering fear: "And what happened? Now they're so poor they can't even afford to eat, all their underlings have deserted them, and their once-proud political and business connections are now worthless. Everyone avoids them like the plague."
"If it weren't for you forcing us to transform last year, making us dump all those rotten assets and start afresh with a clean security company shell—I'd probably be in jail like Oshima now."
Takayama looked at Kitahara Shin, his gaze turning completely somber.
Having spent half his life in this line of work, he knew better than anyone how important the phrase "following the right person" truly was. One wrong step could lead to a fate like Oshima's, spending the rest of his life in prison; but by sticking with the man before him, he had achieved his current life of luxury and upright conduct.
"Times have changed, Takayama." Kitahara Shin put down his teacup, his tone as calm as if stating common sense. "The era of making money through violence and intimidation is long gone. The rules now are capital and brains. Oshima doesn't see this, and it's only a matter of time before he's eliminated."
His long, slender fingers tapped lightly twice on the heavy brown paper bag.
"However, some people may wear suits and sit on the board of directors of conglomerates, but the rules in their minds are still the same old Oshima rules." Kitahara Shin's lips curled into a cold smile. "Since Fujiwara likes to play dirty tricks in the dark, then I'll teach him what the rules are now."
Gao Shan immediately sat up straight. He knew that the boss was about to officially close the net.
"Keep the original of this document safe, and leave me the copy." Kitahara Shin glanced at the calendar, his gaze deep.
"The 'Bayside Shakedown' movie is about to break the 5 billion yen mark. Once this storm has passed, I'll personally go and meet Mr. Fujiwara."
An invisible net, powerful enough to strangle the old fox, has already tightened around Fujiwara's neck. And all of this, the self-righteous local bully remains completely unaware.
>