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Chapter 86 – Spring Bullet Tour? (8)

The spring bullet tour had reached its sixth day.
After spending the night on a sleeper train, we arrived at the Sea of Japan. This was Ishikawa Prefecture, the land of Kaga’s one million koku.

But our destination wasn’t Kanazawa. I’d kind of like to see Kenrokuen Garden and all, but we had a different purpose.
Otherwise, there’s no way I would’ve come all the way out to Hokuriku on such a forced march. Ideally, this is a place I’d want to visit more slowly, just for sightseeing.

“There’s really nothing here, huh.”

“Seriously.”

“But that’s what’s good about it.”

Following me and Shizu, Torasaburou threw out a line that sounded like it came from a movie or something.

But in front of the group that had just arrived at Komatsu Station, there was nothing more than a typical rural Hokuriku station and its modest station-front area.
The two additional burly men in the group wore slightly awkward expressions too.

At this time, Komatsu didn’t even have an airfield yet. Kanazawa, where the night train from Osaka had arrived, was about 30 kilometers away, and the hot spring towns were another 10 to 20 kilometers back in the opposite direction.

It was the kind of place where you could easily understand why the Navy decided to build an airfield here during the war—because there was nothing else around.

However, due to the presence of a small copper mine nearby, Komatsu Seisakusho (Komatsu Manufacturing Works) was established here.

And although I didn’t really know much about it at the time, I had invested in it, and now a factory, quite out of place in a town like this, was being constructed in a spot visible from the station.
Komatsu Seisakusho had ultimately become a fully owned subsidiary of Ootori.

The reason being, there was no core executive capable of leading it during its planned expansion.

Ootori began investing in and forming a partnership with Komatsu Seisakusho at the end of 1926. However, although the company’s founder, Takeuchi Meitarou, passed away last year, none of his sons stepped forward to take over the business or management as the second generation.

Because of that, discussions were held between the founding family and a man named Hashimoto Masujirou, who had been serving concurrently as the plant director since the early days.
This Hashimoto-san was also the president of DAT Motor Vehicle Manufacturing Co., Ltd., and was only serving as Komatsu’s president in a dual capacity. So he wasn’t really in a position to fully dedicate himself to overseeing Komatsu’s expansion.

After all, around this time, he was betting everything on a comeback and was in the middle of developing a four-wheeled vehicle called the “DATSON (Datsun).”
On top of that, Takeuchi Meitarou had also devoted a great deal of energy to DAT, so he wasn’t in a position to be growing Komatsu either.

As a result, Ootori took practical control over the management of Komatsu Seisakusho on the condition that it would invest in and support Hashimoto-san’s DAT company, and that it would respect the wishes of the founding family above all.

That said, Ootori—or rather, I—wasn’t really interested in owning or managing Komatsu Seisakusho. I just wanted to get domestically-produced heavy machinery manufactured one after another.
So theoretically, Ootori should have been able to push forward with heavy machinery development at Komatsu exactly as we wished—but things weren’t quite aligning with my expectations.

Because I knew the future of Komatsu Seisakusho, I had assumed there would be some big-name figure leading the development of heavy machinery—but in reality, there wasn’t really anyone who could serve as a central figure.

Hashimoto-san could have taken on that role, but after losing his partner Takeuchi-san, he was focusing his efforts on DAT, and maintaining Komatsu as it took everything he had.

Even so, Komatsu developed a tracked tractor in the 1930s. So the engineers must be there. With that in mind, I reconsidered: if we had foreign products to reverse engineer, enough funding, proper facilities, and someone to open up sales channels, we could mass-produce and sell them in large quantities.

If there were no buyers, we could just use them ourselves in building Ootori’s factories. And we could donate to the government or otherwise encourage public works projects.

By around 1928, I was already capable of thinking that far ahead, so I gave the go-ahead.

And now, the tractors already produced were beginning to sell.

Today, as we arrived by car from Kanazawa, the person who was supposed to greet us was, in theory, the apprentice of Torasaburou—the head of Ootori’s machinery and heavy industry division.

However, the reality was different.

“Oh! I’ve been waiting for you!”

The one who welcomed us was the founder’s younger brother. Yes, it was Shigeru Yoshida, the Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs.

“When I heard that Ootori was investing in my brother’s company, I was seriously surprised.”

He speaks with a bit of a rough edge—maybe that’s his Kochi background showing. And unlike the photos I’ve seen of him after the war, his hair isn’t thinning that much yet, his face has fewer wrinkles, and his cheeks haven’t sagged like a bulldog’s.

He really gives off the impression of a capable, energetic diplomat.

And yet, here he is—Shigeru Yoshida—sitting right in front of us for some reason. The sheer surprise of such a big-name appearance makes me seriously want to run away.

The two macho men bolted immediately along with Yoshida-san’s attendants. Since they work as mercenaries for us, they must’ve instantly sensed how dangerous this situation could be.

To make matters worse, the room has been cleared out, and even Shizu has been taken to a different room.

As for me, Torasaburou made me sit next to him, so I have no chance of escaping. For now, I decide to put on my “young lady” mask and wait to see what Torasaburou will say.

However, Torasaburou hasn’t said a word since that rather casual greeting when we got out of the car. He’s still completely silent.

Just as I start wondering what’s going on, he nudges me lightly in the side with his elbow.

(Eh? You want me to handle this?)

When I instinctively looked up at Torasaburou, I saw his gaze flicking back and forth between me and Shigeru Yoshida. That told me everything—Shigeru Yoshida was someone even Torasaburou couldn’t handle.

Well, of course. He’s Shigeru Yoshida. The only ones in Ootori who could deal with someone like him would be my great-grandfather or maybe my grandfather.

But right now, it’s just the two of us. I have no choice but to steel myself.

I let out a small, deliberate sigh and turned my gaze toward Shigeru Yoshida. On the other side of that gaze, he looked at me with eyes and a smile that seemed somewhat amused.

“Umm, I figure there’s no point in putting up a front with someone like you, Yoshida-sama, so I’ll just speak the way I usually do.”

That said, I at least used polite language.

“Oh, I was waiting for that. So then, ‘Miko of Ootori,’ what’ve you come here for? What do you want my brother’s company to do?”

“Eh? Well, I want them to mass-produce heavy machinery.”

“That’s not all, is it?”

“I also want them to make tanks. And in the end, if they could defeat America’s Caterpillar Inc., that’d be amazing—but realistically, I’m hoping they can achieve maybe half of that in about fifty years.”

When I laid it all out plainly, without sugarcoating, Shigeru Yoshida looked oddly impressed.

“Hooh… I heard you dream of the future, but you can see that far ahead? Then, what happens to me?”

This wasn’t just a candid conversation—it was something beyond that. And yet, he wasn’t mocking me. It didn’t seem like he was testing me, either.

(So it’s just pure curiosity… In that case, I’ll go ahead and say it.)

“The dream I saw showed me a continuous stream of history starting from a certain point. In that, Japan…”

“No, no, what I want to hear about is my future.”

“Yes, and that’s related—because you, Yoshida-sama, carry the future of Japan.”

“Seriously? I end up in that kind of position? What the hell has to happen for me to rise that high? I mean, I do want to move up, but… So basically, the Japan you saw in your dream goes through some massive changes, huh?”

(Amazing. He jumped to that conclusion immediately. No wonder he’s an SSR-tier name. His intellect is on a whole different level. Honestly, he could take over for me and probably do just fine.
He might be on par with—or even above—Ishiwara Kanji. Their mental vectors and sensibilities are different, though. This man relies on knowledge and experience, while Ishiwara was more of a raw genius.)

“Something wrong?”

“N-no, not at all. It’s just… you’re exactly right. But talking any more about it would stir up too much trouble, so I’d rather not go into details.”

“Fair enough. Well, I’m not that worried about it anyway. And besides, it’s not like that dream future of yours is guaranteed to happen, right?”

“Right. Ootori is working to make sure it doesn’t happen.”

“One of those moves is getting involved with Komatsu, and what you’re really after isn’t tanks but heavy machinery? I don’t quite get it.”

“Uhh, heavy machinery—specifically bulldozers, which are machines used for leveling ground—can do in one hour what it takes a hundred laborers half a day to accomplish. In America, machines like that are already widely in use. Whether you have them or not makes a huge difference—you can’t even compete without them.”

“Hooh. I never really paid attention to that kind of thing, but I guess the perspective of someone in business is different. So, why Komatsu?”

“Because no other company in Japan is trying to make machines that run on tracks—on continuous tracks like that. Aside from the Army’s Osaka Arsenal, there’s really no other domestic option. So we have no choice but to get Komatsu to build them.”

“I see. But listen, Europe built hundreds, even thousands of tanks in the last war—those are basically heavy machines too, right? Is it really that hard to make?”

“It is difficult. In fact, aside from France and Britain, the only other country managing to develop domestically-produced tanks is the United States, and they’ve only just developed a prototype light tank. As for Japan, the Army’s prototype tank—which has been a struggle to develop—is scheduled to be completed this April. Even Britain and France haven’t developed any new tanks since the Great War.”

“What about the Germans or the damn Russkies?”

“No, neither. The current Soviet Russia has only just laid the foundations for its heavy industry. Their tank development is still ahead of them. Once they start, though, they’ll probably move at terrifying speed.”

“That’s something I’d rather not see happen.”

Even Shigeru Yoshida, it seems, has no answer for dealing with Red Russia.

Well, of course he doesn’t.

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Komatsu Ltd.:
The world’s second-largest heavy equipment manufacturer. They also produced vehicles for the Self-Defense Forces.

Dat Motorcar Co., Ltd.:
Originally called Kaishinsha. It was the company that produced Japan’s first purely domestic automobile.
In 1934, it merged and evolved into Nihon Jidousha Kabushikigaisha—i.e., Nissan.

Shigeru Yoshida:
Is there even any need to explain?
As mentioned in the story, this is his background.
The author didn’t know any of this until researching Komatsu.
Also… in the spring of 1929, he would be exactly 50 years old.