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Chapter 99 – Facing the King of Newspapers

“Hm, am I so untrustworthy that you won’t reveal the truth? If that’s the case, I could pay for the interview—but if it’s free, I can earn your trust. And in either case, I promise not to breathe a word to anyone. As for the latter, I’ve been ordered to keep quiet by certain parties… but as the Empress, I’m sure you can guess who, can’t you?”

In response to my question, he replied with an indignant, very American-style gesture.

At the same time, he showed me a fair number of his cards.

So I thought maybe it was about time I revealed a few of mine—but I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. When I glanced at Kouryuu-sensei, he was leisurely helping himself to the tea and sweets that had been brought out.

And since the room had been cleared of other people, I figured it was proper manners to give him a certain amount of trust, so I steeled myself.

“Sigh. What exactly do you think you can talk about with a child? Also, I’m neither a princess nor an empress.”

“Yes, I know. The ‘Priestess of the Phoenix.’ Quite mysterious. And the truth is even more amazing. If it were possible, I’d love to expose it to the whole of America.”

“Even if you did, no one would believe you.”

(To think I’d hear the phrase “the whole of America” in person… More importantly, this old man just said “expose” instead of “publish.”)

I narrow my eyes slightly at him. But it’s like water off a duck’s back.
Well, I suppose you’d have to be like this to be the king of yellow journalism.

“Perhaps. But those who know, know. And I wanted to see the truth with my own eyes.”

“In that case, wouldn’t the best place be on an airship where there’s no escape? Like in a movie scene.”

“I thought of that too, but the cabins on that ship are far too small. Voices carry straight through, and everyone can hear you. And the big gasbag is basically hollow, so the crew can hear everything as well. That way, I wouldn’t be able to keep the secret to myself.”

“Oh? So it’s cramped?”

The words slip out in Japanese before I can stop myself.
It’s proof my heart is being pulled along by my body—but also proof I’m keeping my composure.

On the other hand, since there’s no interpreter, Mr. Hearst has no way to react to my Japanese. He just tilts his head slightly.

“Pardon me. For all their size, airships are cramped inside, aren’t they?”

“Yes, you’d be surprised once you’re aboard. Apparently, they don’t have as much lift as they look, so they can’t carry much cargo. They’re balloons all show and no substance. Well, the appearance does have its value, though.”

“I see. I signed up because I’d heard it was a comfortable way to travel the skies.”

“If it’s comfort you’re after, I would wholeheartedly recommend an ocean liner. More than that, though, I want to know your truth—won’t you tell me a little more?”

I thought I might be able to steer the conversation away, but it seems that’s completely impossible.
Looks like I’ll just have to steel myself a bit more.

“Since I’m from a count’s family and the head house of a financial conglomerate, I suppose you could say I’m closer to a princess—though I have no fief to inherit.”

“With the Phoenix fortune as it is now, you could probably buy a country or two. Well, not that anyone in America would go that far, and having a country would just be a hassle anyway, so there’s no need. And?”

“Well, according to those around my family, I’m something of a goddess of fortune.”

“Ha! That’s certainly no exaggeration. Even in this wide world, few have seized fortune like you. I’d almost like you to share some of it with me.”

“I wouldn’t be unwilling to.”

“Huh? Really? I thought you only brought fortune to your own family?”

“It’s on the premise that it benefits my family, but I do give advice.”

“I see, that makes sense. So if I follow your advice, will the Ootori family profit? I’d very much like to hear it. This is purely out of curiosity, of course.”

“You’re an honest man.”

“That’s the American virtue—the secret to business. So, how about it?”

“I don’t mind giving advice. But you must listen to what I say. Otherwise, I can’t take responsibility.”

“That’s a problem. I don’t like taking orders from anyone.”

“In that case, shall we start by talking business?”

“That’s fine too. Time is money.”

This white old man is oddly enthusiastic.
Well, I’d like to think that this time, an unexpected connection has come to me of its own accord. After all, this journey is one to peer into the depths of the abyss.

With that thought in mind, I decided to weave together a few words.

“Then let’s start with business. The fact that I could meet you, Mr. Hearst, is a stroke of fate. As Ootori, I’m willing to provide some funds, so could you conduct anti-communist propaganda in America, and pro-Japan propaganda—in other words, raise Japan’s profile?”

“If it’s business, then there’s nothing to hesitate over. And I suppose this would also serve as a way to maintain our connection. Then my answer is yes. We’ll also put it into formal writing later.”

“Thank you very much. Then, one million dollars per matter per year. At the end of each year, we’ll decide whether to continue and whether to provide more funds—would that be acceptable?”

“As expected of the Empress of the Phoenix. To decide on the spot to spend two million dollars a year in advertising—about twelve billion yen in today’s value—is impressive. But isn’t that the kind of job the Japanese government should be doing? Or is this from the Japanese government?”

“No. This is my personal decision. Communism is the enemy of the peerage and the conglomerate. And friendship between Japan and America will bring great benefit to the Ootori. I had actually planned to bring this proposal to someone after arriving in America.”

“There’s probably no one but me. Your decision and the amount are sound. And if you’re even willing to give money to crush the communists, I’ll gladly do it.”

“Thank you very much. No—please allow me to say, ‘I look forward to working with you.’”

“Mm. So, is that all for business? If so, could you at least tell me part of the reason for this trip to America? I can guess well enough that Dr. Kouryuu’s lecture is just a front. What sort of divine revelation has the Priestess received that compels her to travel there? Right now, all of America’s upper class is eager to know.”

“All of America?”

(All of America, huh. Are they going to cry after all? Well, I guess by around November, all of America will be crying.)

I can’t help but mentally escape, but with the amount of money involved, I figured there’d be attention. Still, it seems to be even more than what the Ootori in America have been reporting.

“Of course. Naturally. At this rate, by mid-September Phoenix will have sold off all its stocks and will be holding two billion dollars in cash. No—already eighty percent of that is in hand. That’s enough to build an entire navy. So, what are you going to buy next? No—what stocks are you going to buy? That topic alone has everyone in an uproar, from below the surface to high in the clouds. There’s even a rumor going around, from the likes of Morgan, that you’re buying up large amounts of things other than stocks—but that’s just a bluff, isn’t it?”

(Ah, this person also believes in eternity.)

Watching Mr. Hearst push the conversation forward, I felt that strongly. He’s completely immersed in the shared illusion that the Dow index will rise forever.

I don’t know what kind of life this man will lead, but without any thought of business, the words come out naturally.

“There is nothing eternal. That is why the Ootori plans to buy things other than stocks, through Mr. Morgan and others. Mr. Hearst, if you’ve been playing with fire a bit too much, I strongly recommend that you rein it in.”

The moment I said it, I could tell the look of interest vanished from Mr. Hearst’s face. At the very least, it probably meant that I was no longer interesting to him as an interview subject or a piece of news.

“Is that really all? You’re not lying, are you?”

“There are many things that both the Ootori and Japan need more than stocks or dollars. Stocks and dollars are means, not ends.”

I said this while nodding, but I could feel Mr. Hearst’s heat—or perhaps his aura—receding even further.

(Well, saying it is probably pointless. But I’ve said it clearly, so don’t hold it against me.)

That’s all I felt about it. I had no further obligation.

Even so, Mr. Hearst was—well, as expected of an adult, or rather, a businessman.

“Well, I’ll take your warning. And I understand business matters, too. You’ve told me some fairly interesting things. But still, it’s a bit anticlimactic. Say, can I ask you just one last thing?”

“Yes, if it’s something I can answer.”

“Then why are you going to America? You’re not going there to join the festivities, are you? If it’s business, you could just have your loyal steward handle it. I don’t see why you’d need to go yourself.”

The answer to that is obvious. I’ve told it to others before.

“To capture history with my own eyes.”

I even went as far as to strike a little villainess-like pose as a service, but he only responded with an exasperated pose of his own.

“I see. Then would you mind if I assigned a reporter to you?”

“It’ll cost you.”

“I hope it won’t be a million dollars, though.”

At those words, this time I was the one to return the exasperated pose.