Night gradually spread over Naniwa Ward, inside premises belonging to the Wenyi Association.
"Why have we only sold a handful of jars, and not a single book?"
A middle-aged man wearing gold-rimmed glasses and designer clothes from head to toe sat on a sofa, leafing through the account book in his hands.
"Mother was already very dissatisfied with Osaka's donations last month. With figures like these, she's going to be furious."
Before him, a balding old man in white robes wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and said:
"Lord Wen Zaizhong, isn't twenty-five million yen a little much for one book? If we lowered it slightly..."
"We cannot lower it any further! What dignity would the sacred teachings have left? Those bargain-hunting people of Osaka really are the least devout!"
The middle-aged man's brows knitted, his expression darkening abruptly as he snapped:
"Whether you swindle them or deceive them, Osaka must sell at least one copy next month, or someone else will take your position."
"Yes, yes, yes."
"In short, you must raise at least this much for me before next month."
Wen Zaizhong, pale-skinned with a sinister look about his eyes, raised his palm and spread all five fingers.
"Understood, understood!"
The balding old man nodded and bowed repeatedly to Wen Zaizhong, who was twenty years his junior, smiling cautiously.
After the old president's sudden death several years earlier, control of the Wenyi Association had fallen into the hands of his wife and the Wen family's dozen-plus children.
The fifth son, Wen Zaizhong, was among the most powerful figures in the organization, and there were even calls for him to become the next president.
Seeing how obedient the balding old man was, Wen Zaizhong nodded in satisfaction.
Knock, knock, knock.
A sudden knock came from outside the door.