28. When war bells ring

                                    

                                          

January, 1945
Occupied Seoul


Dachi strode from his father's study, lip still throbbing from pain as a result of the latest enraged blows. No matter - he had endured far worse in pursuit of the power and prestige he craved as rightful heir. After all it make sense. 
All great dynasties were built on the backs of ruthless sacrifice.
He shed his ink-stained jacket on entering his chambers, barely noticing the garment slip unheeded to the polished floor. 
Crossing instead to the carved rosewood bar, Dachi considered his next maneuver with growing anticipation.
When the door creaked open to admit a servant delivering post on a silver platter, Dachi had rifled through swiftly until he found the letter of most importance - an official summons stamped with a magistrate's seal that prompted a small, cruel smile playing about his patrician lips.
Scanning the legal notice with anticipation, Dachi could not suppress a slight chuckle despite otherwise sitting alone in his lavish room. 
"When Ji-tae loses claim to that overvalued establishment he clings to, my father shall understand firsthand the steep price to be paid for spurning your only suitable heir in favor of a prodigal disappointment."
Tossing a fountain pen idly into the air and deftly catching it once more, Dachi allowed himself to relish the anticipated downfall, tapping the vellum tri-fold slowly against one palm. 
Recent setbacks had finally pushed foolhardy Ji-tae into financial straits too dire to wriggle free of without assets to leverage for repayment of considerable business debts now coming due. And this court summons for failure to produce lounge ownership papers confirming right of transfer. 
He inhaled the imported brandy's fragrant notes deeply before addressing the waiting manservant. 
"Send notice to confirm meeting with Judge Hiyashi's counsel on legal matters related to my inheritance."
As the servant withdrew with a bow, Dachi refilled his tumbler. If his trusted political puppets played along, Ji-tae's cherished lounge would fall under his control soon enough. 
Then Dachi could begin rebuilding its image and doors open only to the ambitious elite shaping the future from shadowed halls. An empire created for indulging desires without limit or consequences...where the envied Sato name eclipsed all challengers. 
Dachi lifted his glass higher, toasting the indistinct vision blazing behind his eyes.
By early morning Judge Hiyashi re-read the neatly penned summons, brow furrowing. Whatever this urgent inheritance matter was, he trusted it concealed less benign motives knowing shrewd Dachi Sato. 
Still, refusing the request was unwise given longstanding ties between their families. With a resigned sigh, Hiyashi removed his spectacles and glanced at the ornate clock ticking softly in the corner. 
Nearly time to receive his unexpected petitioner and discover what devious proposal was surely forthcoming. 
Precisely on the hour, a sharp rap preceded his guards ushering the immaculately dressed Dachi into the judge's stately office. Hiyashi studied the young heir silently as he made a cursory bow - the expensive western suit impeccably tailored, sleek hair gleaming like an obsidian helmet, that ever-present vulpine smile never reaching hooded eyes.