Tokyo.
The morning sun was on the rise.
Inside the hotel's Presidential Suite.
Tang Qing, draped in a bathrobe, stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing at the distant cityscape, feeling only one thing: crowded. An endless urban sprawl, not many high rises, the tallest building being a TV tower.
In the distance.
Thanks to the decent air quality, Mt. Fuji was faintly visible.
Looking at this city.
Tang Qing's eyes narrowed slightly.
Here.
One day.
Would welcome a new order.
The executors of the 'Japan's Emerging Consortium Plan' were methodically casting a vast net, waiting for the day to emerge and become an undeniable presence in this land.
...
After breakfast.
They took a flight back to Nagoya.
As soon as they got off the plane.
They saw the clear skies.
"Nice weather," Ge Feng exclaimed.
"Perfect for fishing."
Tang Qing nodded.
