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Chapter 65 – The Ootori Hotel (2)

The Ootori Hotel has a capacity of 600 guests—an extraordinary figure for this era—roughly double that of the Imperial Hotel.
Its total floor area is approximately 70,000 square meters, more than twice that of the Imperial Hotel.

I haven’t looked into it in detail, but in terms of scale, it’s the largest hotel in the capital, and probably the largest in all of Japan. 

That’s why I’m planning to use the kind of slogan typical for the time in Japan: “The greatest in the Orient.”

After learning a lot from this project, I honestly found myself amazed that such a massive hotel could be built in this era.

That said, it won’t fill up with guests right away, so I’m treating this as a long-term investment.

The exterior and interior are both luxuriously designed, and we’ve incorporated state-of-the-art features like elevators, full-building air conditioning, and central heating.
The outer design follows the Neo-Renaissance style. 

The famous clock tower in Ginza is in the same style, and it’s also a standard for modern European architecture.

Well, that clock tower won’t be completed for another four years.

At first, there was talk of commissioning Mr. Lloyd, the same architect who designed the Imperial Hotel, as a way of directly competing with it—but in the end, we decided that would be a bit too obvious, and went with a more orthodox approach.

We also spent quite a lot on the exterior and decorative carvings, so the appearance looks quite luxurious.
The massive entrance lobby with its three-story atrium had its budget increased partway through to hang an extravagant chandelier and use plenty of marble—no expense was spared.

The internal facilities are also fully equipped, on par with city hotels from the mid to late Showa era.

In addition to the obvious inclusion of luxurious restaurants, bars, and lounges, there’s a Victorian-style café on the first floor where maids—of a type I personally like—serve customers. 

With this, I’ve finally managed to implement maids equipped with headbands.

There isn’t just one restaurant either; the ground floor is set up as a restaurant district, open to the general public.
Since the area is surrounded by government offices and the heart of the Army, there should be no shortage of high-end clientele.

Naturally, there’s also an observation restaurant on the top floor.

The restaurants offer Japanese, Western, and Chinese cuisine, and I’ve also included a buffet-style restaurant.
This is probably the first in Japan, so I’ve named it “Viking.” 

With that, historical recreation is complete.

I’m sure the Japanese will come to refer to buffets as “Viking” thanks to this.

Still, even though I beat the Imperial Hotel to it, I can’t help but feel a little guilty about it on a personal level.

Also, as a personal indulgence, I had an Italian restaurant built.
But in Japan during this era, there are hardly any Italians. 

There are more of them in places like Shanghai on the continent, where there are foreign concessions.

So there was no choice but to bring in a few Italian chefs as foreign hires, and have them spend two full years thoroughly training Japanese chefs.

While we were at it, I had them teach our family’s cooks too, so Italian cuisine ended up being added to our household menu as well.

In addition to that, the hotel includes a grand banquet hall that can be used for large-scale conferences, a wedding venue, various meeting rooms, a large bath area equipped with a sauna and open-air baths, and even a gym with an indoor pool—a full array of facilities.

Since the location has a slight disadvantage, the hotel is permanently connected to places like Tokyo Station via hired cars and shuttle buses.
As a fun extra, we also prepared a luxurious horse-drawn carriage service for guest transport, which turned out to be surprisingly popular and eventually became one of Ootori Hotel’s signature features.

On another front, since a considerable portion of land across the street also belonged to the Ootori family, part of it was acquired and reorganized.
There, we built the Ootori Building, which serves as the de facto headquarters of the now-enlarged Ootori Group.

This building too is being constructed as an enormous structure of nearly the same scale, boasting an exceptionally robust earthquake-resistant design.
Construction began about half a year later than the hotel, and since its interior will include even more sensitive and risky facilities, it is scheduled to be completed in the spring of 1930.

The scale of the building itself rivals that of Mitsubishi’s Marunouchi Building in Marunouchi, which at the time was the largest in Japan, and it is being built to accommodate up to 4,000 workers.
Naturally, it’s expected that many from the Ootori and Suzuki conglomerates will occupy the space.

Once completed, the third floors of the two buildings will be connected across the road by an elevated corridor, and together they will be called, by my own naming, the “Ootori Twin Buildings.”

Apparently, obtaining permission for this overhead corridor was surprisingly difficult.
It seems you shouldn’t carelessly blurt out wild ideas on a whim.

By the way, nicknames given to the “Ootori Twin Buildings” by the public and media include “Ootori Fortress,” “Ootori Castle,” and “Ootori Palace.” 

Meanwhile, various conglomerates and others who dislike the Ootori group have straightforwardly called it the “Nouveau Riche Building.”

Also, since the area is close to government and military facilities, some have referred to it as the “Ootori Headquarters.”
Personally, I think “Ootori Headquarters” feels the most fitting, which I find rather ironically amusing.

Furthermore, the Mitsubishi Marunouchi Building, completed about five years ago, was called the “largest in the East” at the time of its completion.
But both the Ootori hotel and the office building are each slightly larger than the Marunouchi Building on their own, effectively stealing that “largest in the East” title.

It’s truly a symbol of the Ootori family’s sudden rise to nouveau riche status.

“It’s done, huh—”

“Yes, Ojou-sama.”

“Hey, give me a bit more of a reaction.”

“…It’s a large and luxurious building—like the palace of some foreign country.”

“Yup. Thanks for the textbook response.”

“My apologies.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s head inside then.”

After the usual exchange with my maid, Shizu, we entered the building.

The official unveiling for stakeholders is scheduled for tomorrow, just before the grand opening, but today there’s no one here except for hotel staff and some affiliated contractors.

At the unveiling ceremony, I’ll be presenting a bouquet alongside Youko-chan, so we’re here under the pretext of a preliminary inspection.

And upon entering—I was left speechless.
Even she, standing slightly behind me, looked stunned.

The ceiling was high, and the depth of the space immense—the entire atmosphere exuded luxury.
The grand staircase at the center had the kind of presence you’d expect to see in a palace from some storybook.

Since the building is designed with earthquake resistance in mind after the Great Kanto Earthquake, the walls and columns are unusually thick and sturdy—but that actually lends the space a distinctive, stately charm.

It’s not quite on the level of the Palace of Versailles or the State Guest House, but it’s still outrageously luxurious.
In typical nouveau riche fashion, paintings worthy of a museum and massive Imari porcelain vases are casually displayed throughout the space.

Come to think of it, once we ride out the American stock market and become absurdly wealthy, I suppose the Ootori family will have to establish at least one new art museum.

That said, there is one lingering regret I have about this palace-like hotel.

“I really wanted to make the top floor into a residence for the Ootori family.”

“The top floor, ma’am?”

“That’s right. You’d have the whole sky to yourself.”

“There certainly aren’t any buildings this tall around here.”

“It’s not just the surroundings—this is the tallest building in Japan right now. Though of course, compared to America, it’s not even in the same league.”

“So even this doesn’t qualify as a skyscraper?”

“It’ll probably be another twenty or thirty years before skyscrapers can be built in Japan.”

“I see. Then, once you become the head of the Ootori family, will you be the one to build them, Ojou-sama?”

“…Eh?”

Shizu’s words caught me a little off guard.

I must’ve been making a pretty dumb face, because she looked back at me with a puzzled, slightly suspicious expression.

Now that I think about it, my goals in life have always been to avoid ruin as a villainous noble lady, to prevent the collapse of the Ootori family and its financial group, and even to avert the downfall of Japan itself.

But I had never thought about what comes after that.

That offhand comment from Shizu—made without much thought, I assume—was not only unexpected for me, but it felt like a divine message, a voice from the heavens.

So I gave a small nod, and a smile naturally crept across my face.

“…Yes, you’re right. I will build skyscrapers in the imperial capital—sooner rather than later!”

“Yes. I believe it is best that you do as you are drawn to.”

With that, Shizu gave me her usual quiet bow.

This hotel had been intended as a historical reenactment and as a flashy display of nouveau riche taste, but in the end, building it had been the right decision.

Because Shizu reminded me that I have a future, too.