Pathway to Japanese Literature

1. Illicit Brewing Prevention Lecture [Several pages missing from the beginning of the manuscript] “In British university experiments, they say even cows gain weight when given alcohol to drink,” “Moreover, this is truly the root of human energy.” “The saying that alcohol is compressed liquid bread is indeed an apt one.” “The very reason Horibe Yasubei managed to slay thirty men in his vendetta at Takada no Baba was because alcohol gave him such abundant energy.” “Everyone, drink heartily for the sake of the nation and the world!” (The elementary school principal had turned pale. The Tax Office Chief thought: He must be livid—forced by the village office to lend his school for this lecture, now driven pale with outrage at my words.) Yet this assumption proved entirely mistaken. The principal’s pallor stemmed not from anger, but from an overwhelming craving for drink stirred by such effusive praise. For this was none other than Mr. Taruko—the “Barrel Teacher”—renowned for downing two liters in a single sitting without batting an eye. The villagers clapped and cheered enthusiastically, shouting “Marvelous!” and “How splendid!” throughout the speech. The Tax Office Chief—a stout, blunt man whose honest demeanor belied his cunning—continued voicing every thought without restraint, heedless of how his words might provoke them. In truth, his lecture contained such scathing insults that righteous fury should have gripped his audience. Yet they listened with apparent delight, laughing uproariously and applauding repeatedly.

To condense the opening portion, it went something like this. “Even if you’re going to do illicit brewing, I don’t want you doing such sloppy work.” “What’s this? You put the fermenting mash in a miso tub, place a board on top and spread miso paste over it—then when I poke it with my stick, the board pops right out!” “You hide it in the dried grass of the stable—what a fine horse! When I ask if you can even milk it, you all change your expressions.” They brewed it in new fertilizer tubs and left them in the forest undergrowth. Even if someone sneaked off with it, they didn’t raise a fuss. They set it up in a sooty attic, and when they went to retrieve it, their eyes were all bloodshot.

“Even the finished sake isn’t fit to be seen. Since it’s nigorizake after all, its cloudiness can be overlooked—but some batches are sour, others cloyingly sweet—the sort of swill even Ainu or Formosan savages would likely refuse. Such swill isn’t something for advanced humanity in this electric age to drink. If you’re going to do it anyway, why not set up proper large-scale facilities and work collectively? You should all polish your rice with electricity, use hydraulic presses for pressing, utilize lactic acid bacteria, and employ proper chemical instruments—pipettes, beakers, burettes—to produce clean, premium sake. Of course, when that happens, I’ll be wanting you to pay your taxes. If you carry it out in that manner, we would indeed welcome it. We can even arrange engineers and such for you. Instead of sneaking around making three shō of half-fermented koji-laden sake and getting slapped with a hundred-yen fine, why not just openly drink seven to of decent sake?”

He continued hurling vicious insults and making remarks that should have stung their ears, yet no one took offense; rather, as his speech progressed, they only grew more delighted, faces flushing with amusement as they laughed and clapped. *This is strange—strange—truly strange*, thought the Tax Office Chief, a man both blunt and somewhat cunning, as his darting eyes scrutinized their expressions. In his plan, he had aimed to hurl enough abuse to see how many people turned red with anger—thereby roughly calculating the village's illicit brewing operations. When that failed, he resolved to gradually escalate to threats instead, watching for those who might turn pale.

However, they still seemed amused and laughed.

The Tax Office Chief, so agitated he felt on the verge of collapse, raised a hand to his head. The fact that everyone was so gleefully laughing at my harsh criticisms—whether it meant none of them were actually brewing illicit alcohol, or that they had seen through my true intentions—was thoroughly unsettling; alright, I'll try one last bluff, I thought, taking a sip of water from the glass to steady myself as much as possible before speaking thus. “To be honest, no matter how secretly you all carry out your illicit brewing, I know all about it.” “There are seven informants to me mixed in among this very audience.”

Everyone fell silent. Then came a sudden roar. "Alright, here comes someone trying to attack me! But my escape route's all set—tomorrow around noon when everyone's out working, twenty officers will come by bicycle and nab them all." Thinking this, the Tax Office Chief signaled to Shiratori Kikichi with his eyes and continued speaking. "In my records, I've got clear tables showing exactly how many *to* are in whose storehouse and how many *shō* lie under whose floorboards." And what do you know? Everyone who'd been so worked up just moments before now burst out laughing uproariously in unison. "It's over. This is the end. I've messed up," the Tax Office Chief thought. Then, completely dizzy, he stepped down from the podium.

2. Tax Office Chief Welcome Banquet

As soon as the Tax Office Chief descended from the podium, the Honorary Village Mayor came before him, smiling and slightly bowing. He expressed his gratitude. “This evening’s truly most instructive lecture—I am profoundly grateful for it.” “Though we have nothing worthy of Your Excellency, I would like to offer a modest toast as a token of our welcome.” “I am fully aware this imposes great inconvenience, but I most humbly entreat Your Excellency to grace us with your presence there at once.”

The Tax Office Chief was on the verge of collapsing.

"No, that's quite all right," he replied in a hoarse voice. "In that case," the Honorary Village Mayor turned toward the crowd. "I hereby declare tonight's lecture concluded," he announced, then turned back toward the Chief and his staff. "Now then, please," he said, pointing toward the entrance with his right hand. The Tax Office Chief felt a strange sensation, but with no other choice, he was guided by the Honorary Village Mayor and his group along with Officer Shiratori, exiting the elementary school's entrance and proceeding about a hundred meters ahead to the Village Assembly Member's house. The Village Assembly Member's house was splendid; in its fifty-tatami-mat hall, lights were lit in full array, and at the front stood a silver folding screen where the two were made to sit. Immediately, about thirty village volunteers sat down properly. Immediately, splendid trays were arranged, and surely transparent yellow sake—on which taxes had been paid—began circulating around the gathering.

Everyone came to the Tax Office Chief’s seat one after another, bringing cups.

“Well, you must be quite exhausted today. If I may be so bold, I humbly offer a toast.” “Well, thank you—I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly. This rotten business—gets me sick of it.”

“Not at all.” “If there were more devoted individuals such as Your Excellency, the nation would indeed achieve great prosperity.” “Here you go.” “Ha ha ha! Ah, thank you.” With exchanges like this, it seemed as though everyone’s hearts were gradually thawing just as Officer Shiratori had described—but in truth, the Tax Office Chief never let his guard down, his eyes constantly scanning left and right. Before long, everyone had grown thoroughly drunk and gradually began letting their true feelings slip out.

“Ah, Chief.” “How about a drink? What do you say?” “Bwahaha!” “Making cloudy sake in miso barrels—that’s way too old-fashioned.” “The latest methods are much better, eh?” “Hey, Chief.” “Now, how about a drink? Won’t you take my cup?” “Your Excellency— Ha ha ha!” “Come on, have a drink.”

“Alright, I get it, I get it. “No—actually, tonight’s been a real bender. “I won’t be humiliated.” “Bwahaha!” “Hey now, Mr. Shiratori’s turn next! Come on, go ahead and do it.” “All men must possess resolute determination.” “Come now, it was truly the power of sake that let Horibe Yasubei Kanshige cut down thirty men at Takada-no-Baba—how amusing! And how amusing that even cows get drunk when they drink sake!” “Come on, have a drink.” “You’re quite a strong drinker.” “Come on, have a drink.”

As soon as one person left, another would come.

“Chief.” “It is an honor to make your acquaintance for the first time.” “Ah, my first time.” “First time? Wait—didn’t I come earlier too? Second time, hahaha!” “Chief—no, a toast! I humbly offer this toast.” “Hahaha! We know this village’s cloudy sake like the back of our hand—is that really it? Come on, if you’re serious, come get us anytime!” “You coming, bastard? Come and try!” “Ahahaha! My apologies—Chief! Chief! Since things’ve come to this, let’s drop all formalities!” “No formalities!” “Hey, everyone! No formalities now! First off—the evils of illicit brewing are guaranteed by the state! The Tax Office guarantees it too! Ugh…” “A toast—no, a toast!”

“That’s enough,”

“Trying to run away? You think you can run away?” “Fine, fine—if that’s how you want it, I won’t let you off!” “A toast—come on, a toast! Hey, you bastard!” The Tax Office Chief was now thoroughly drunk. Officer Shiratori was also drunk. However, both of them never forgot their duties nor let their guard down.

Even so, they pretended to be utterly worn out and completely oblivious to everything. In contrast, it was actually the people from the village who had ended up truly drunk. Before long, the Tax Office Chief noticed that the smell of the sake had begun to change slightly. Certainly, a different kind of sake than before had begun circulating around the gathering. While pretending not to look, the Tax Office Chief carefully observed the cup, but it wasn’t cloudy at all. Something was off. This wasn’t sake that any local breweries here could produce—it was almost certainly brought in from another prefecture. Something was off—the Tax Office Chief thought to himself.

Before long, the Village Assembly Member from earlier came again, properly seated himself, and said.

“Oh, Your Excellency, I must apologize for our extreme rudeness.” “To have requested Your Excellency’s gracious presence at such a disorderly gathering—I am profoundly ashamed.” “We simply ask that Your Excellency accept the villagers’ sincere intentions and pardon any shortcomings or excesses in our hospitality.” The Tax Office Chief, feigning complete drunkenness, laughed and replied.

“Well now, this is my first time at such a delightfully unbuttoned banquet. Had I known it would be like this, I might’ve taken to visiting often.” “Though if you keep rolling out welcomes like this, it’ll become quite troublesome, won’t it?”

The Village Assembly Member glanced up briefly at the Chief. He realized that the Chief wasn’t actually drunk yet. The Tax Office Chief spoke again. “It’s truly a shame to receive such a large amount of sake burdened with these steep taxes.” “I might just make this village tax-exempt under the table.” “Oh, ha ha ha!” “You must be joking.” The Village Assembly Member, slightly flustered, retreated toward the kitchen.

“I’ll take my leave now—hey, you.” The Tax Office Chief stood up. “Are you leaving already?” “Now, now.” Just as the Honorary Village Mayor and everyone stood up to stop them, the Tax Office Chief and Officer Shiratori—as if by ninjutsu—had already vanished from the room, snatched their shoes from the kitchen, and sped away on their bicycles down the dark rice field road, flashing their flashlights intermittently as they raced headlong toward the town of Haanamukiya.

III. The Chief’s Office Strategems

The next day, the Tax Office Chief went to the government office, entered his room, and inspected the attendance log. With a *ding-a-ling*, he rang his desk bell, summoned an attendant, and ordered with a jerk of his chin: “Summon Dendou.” Immediately, Officer Dendou in his white uniform entered with utmost reverence. “Please have a seat.” The Tax Office Chief said kindly and began the conversation. “Go on an assignment to Yuguchuyumoto Village.” “Yes.” “I’d like you to go undercover.” “A medicine seller would work for now.” “There should be that Sennkintan Western umbrella.”

“Yes, sir.” “Now, go to Lion Hall—buy a bottle of whisky with this—then tell them ‘I’ll distribute your ads’ and get two hundred flyers of some sort.” “Take those and go in.” “No one knows your face.” “There’s something fishy about that village.” “Someone’s definitely brewing more than just one or two _to_ out there.” “Handle this boldly and skillfully.”

“Understood.”

Officer Dendou’s heart was already racing with excitement. I'll find it successfully and return. Then my salary will surely increase by three yen—I’ll go all out in a detective-like manner. “Take the estimated travel funds and proceed.” The Tax Office Chief spoke again.

“Thank you very much.” Officer Dendou bowed, returned to his seat, went to accounting to receive the estimated travel funds for seven days, and then returned to his boarding house. Now，on the morning of the eighth day，when the Tax Office Chief had come to the government office，had inspected the attendance log，had placed both hands on his desk，and had let out a sigh，the door clattered open and Officer Dendou entered once more in that same white uniform from eight days prior. His face looked terribly haggard. The Tax Office Chief inadvertently made his chair clatter.

“Well? Did you manage to find anything out?” he asked with a concerned look and yet a smile. “It didn’t go well at all,” said Officer Dendou. “In that village... it appears there is no illicit brewing.” “I see,” replied the Tax Office Chief while looking slightly fearful. “How exactly did you conduct your investigation?” “In Nitanai,” began Officer Dendou earnestly, “there happened to be an elderly person who had just passed away—and since people gathering would inevitably drink sooner or later—I pressed them to let me stay overnight at that house beforehand.” He leaned forward slightly as he continued: “Then from that point on—they all came to help—even lent tools and such—and I stayed up all night on the second floor—intently listening—” His voice lowered conspiratorially—“Then—past midnight—sake was brought out—” He paused for effect before concluding—“Just when I thought they wouldn’t let me hear another word—one of them made this—this hissing sound through clenched teeth—” His hands mimicked claws gripping air—“And I thought—this couldn’t possibly—”

“Hmm, your observation shows keen insight.” “Then what?” “Then one of them said: ‘Excellent, truly excellent. At this rate, even Ihatov’s Tomo couldn’t compare.’ That’s what he said. If even Ihatov’s Tomo couldn’t match it, I concluded it couldn’t be illicit sake.” “Did you catch the name of that sake?” “I believe it was North Star.”

The Tax Office Chief abruptly looked fearful.

“No, it’s not North Star.” “Absolutely not.” “I entrusted you to thoroughly investigate where that good sake was being produced and which prefecture it was coming from.” “But then—what on earth were you doing for those next seven days?” “After that, every day I walked through forests and valleys searching for mountain-distilled illicit alcohol.”

“Was there any?” “There wasn’t any.” “Look here. “It’s not some crude operation they’re sneakily making in the bushes. “Didn’t I warn you from the start that they’d be doing something on a larger scale—digging under floors or whatever?” Officer Dendou had already hung his head. When he saw that haggard, pale face, even the Tax Office Chief began to feel a twinge of pity.

“No—that’s enough. Go home and rest. You’ve worked hard. Please tell Officer Shiratori to come here for a moment.”

Officer Dendou left dejectedly. Before long, the aforementioned Officer Shiratori entered with a composed demeanor.

“You, go to Yuguchuyumoto.” “Actually, better leave things as they are.” “Now listen – go back to that Village Assembly Member’s place and say on my behalf: ‘Thank you ever so much for the feast the other day.’ Then mention how when I half-joked about starting a sake company during that banquet, they seemed to take it seriously. Now’s our chance: propose that we’ll provide technicians to establish a model brewery in their village – since their raw materials suit brewing perfectly – then watch their faces closely when you float this idea.” “They’ll inevitably claim lack of funds. When they do, counter with ‘How about a semi-public venture?’” “Memorize every syllable of their response before returning.” “Immediately.” “You should make it back today – take tomorrow off if needed.”

“I can make it back.” Mr. Shiratori Kikichi crisply saluted and departed. The Tax Office Chief was now so deeply engrossed in thought that he seemed to have even forgotten his lunch. In the afternoon, he stood restlessly shifting from foot to foot by the window, waiting impatiently for Officer Shiratori’s return. However, Officer Shiratori did not return even when evening came. The Tax Office Chief, thinking it was about time for everyone to leave, pretended to go home himself, circled through the town, and when everyone had returned, came back to the office, had the janitor turn on the lights in his room, and waited. Then, past eight o'clock, there was a clatter of a bicycle being set down at the entrance, and then Officer Shiratori came back, completely out of breath.

“How did it go?” The Tax Office Chief asked impatiently, unable to wait any longer. “It didn’t work.” “Didn’t it work?” The Tax Office Chief was disappointed.

“I said exactly as instructed and kept watching their expressions, but there was absolutely no reaction. Well, while you officials do make such statements, your unreasonable demands and complicated matters make them completely disregard everything.” “Didn’t their expressions change at all?” “There wasn’t the slightest change.” “Then what did you do?”

“I had no choice, so I left there, stormed into the village izakaya, and inspected every last bit of sake available—whether bottled or sold by measure.”

“Uh-huh.” “And then?” “Then, all the bottled ones were Friend of Ihatov, and the measured sales were definitely North Star.” “North Star is somewhat cheaper, right?”

“That’s correct.” “So it’s definitely North Star, then?” “That’s correct.” “Then I had the liquor store owner produce his ledger and examined it, but it appears alcohol sales have been decreasing every year lately.”

"That's odd. In the past, that village only drank cloudy sake, but if crackdowns have been getting stricter and illicit brewing is gradually decreasing, then clear sake sales should be increasing somewhat." "However, it seems that no one is drinking as much as before." "Is that so?" "Moreover, according to the liquor store owner, lately, since the roads have improved and carts are passing through, every household is buying directly from town, so he said our business is gradually declining."

“Something’s off here. “There’s no way that village has enough cash pouring in from town to buy that much.” “Something’s off here.” “Alright.” “This time, I’ll go take a look.” “Something’s off here.” “I’ll be away for three or four days starting tomorrow.” “Please take good care of things in my absence.” “Now go home and rest.”

The Tax Office Chief pressed a finger to his lips, made his eyes gleam unnaturally, and while lost in thought, began methodically preparing to depart.

IV. The Tax Office Chief's Investigation

As for the Tax Office Chief’s preparations at his lodgings that evening, they were truly scientific in nature. First, he snip-snipped off his beard with scissors, then mixed a little wood tar into volatile oil to create a brown liquid, which he applied thoroughly from his face down his neck and onto his hands. He applied it especially thickly beside his nose and under his ears. Then he applied a large dot of black paint—the kind used for sealing asphalt roof seams—to his chin and waited motionless for a while as the oil and such dried. When it had dried completely, he opened the mirror stand’s drawer, took out two fake gold teeth, and fitted them onto his canines. Then the Tax Office Chief had completely transformed and now looked like a contractor or some sort of boss. Then, the Tax Office Chief took out an old, ill-fitting jacket he normally used for fishing from the closet and put it on, then additionally donned riding breeches and boots. Then he turned the postcard holder upside down and spent some time examining old name cards before selecting one that read “Tokewu Dry Goods Merchant Sahetakokichi” and tucking it into his pocket. Being a bachelor, the Tax Office Chief was actually able to pull off such a feat. He put on a hat, took an umbrella, and went outside, but then—for some reason—he took off his boots again, carried them, and stepped up into the tatami room. He spread old newspaper across the tatami before the mirror, put his boots back on, stood up straight to peer at his reflection, then scurried off with a clatter.

Then he suddenly became serious, scrunched up his face for a moment, and as if finally mustering courage, leapt over the tatami in one go, burst outside, and turned the corner with long strides. Indeed, past ten o'clock that very night, this brave and devoted Tax Office Chief went to a cheap inn in town and asked to be put up for the night. Then, with utmost seriousness, they asked whether he wanted hot water and if he would be needing dinner. The Tax Office Chief was now certain he had completely pulled it off. And early the next morning, the Tax Office Chief headed for the village of Yuguchuyumoto.

Upon arriving at the village entrance, the Tax Office Chief promptly went to that retail liquor store.

“Excuse me, but where might this village’s Shiitake Mushroom Mountain be?”

“Shiitake Mushroom Mountain, eh? You here to make purchases, ain’t ya?” “Oh, yes, that’s right.” “Then you should head to the cooperative.”

“Where might the cooperative be located?” “From here—go straight down this road about ten chō—there’s a school,”

"Of course I know that—that's where I even gave a lecture and got into such trouble," the Tax Office Chief thought bitterly to himself.

“Across from that school, there’s a sign for the Industrial Cooperative Office—you should go there and talk to them.” “I see. “Thank you very much.” “I’m much obliged to you.”

The Tax Office Chief darted outside as if flying and came right back in. “This stuff’s too damn strong. “Pour me a drink. “Not the bottled kind. “Hmm... “Good sake, isn’t it? “What’s it called?”

“It’s North Star.” “This is good sake.” “I didn’t think I’d come here and drink sake like this.” “Where do you sell it?” “We handle wholesale at my place too.” “Hmm, but wouldn’t it be cheaper to buy in town?” “Not necessarily.” “It’s no good. Taking it along would be too harsh.” The Tax Office Chief put down ten sen and dashed out again. Then he went to the cooperative office. "Alright, I’ll catch them now, I’ll catch them today," the Tax Office Chief thought to himself. However, in the office, there was only one young man with glossy parted hair and a white headband dangling limply, sitting on a chair and writing something. "This is clever," thought the Tax Office Chief.

“What a fine day it is today. Pardon me. I’ve come from Tokewu on such business and would kindly ask to be announced.” The Tax Office Chief presented that old business card while thinking it had turned quite yellow. The young man stood up properly, said “Ah, I see,” and accepted the card, then fidgeted without offering further comment. “Has no one else arrived yet this morning?”

“Well... they haven’t arrived yet.” The young man replied in a perplexed manner. “Oh, then I’ll wait here. Please don’t trouble yourself." “How are things going here?” “What about the mushrooms this year?” “With all this rain, the harvest must be quite plentiful, wouldn’t you say?” “Not too good, I hear.”

“Well, indeed—the odor or such might be unpleasant, but they do grow in abundance, wouldn’t you say?”

“Probably did.” The young man’s manner of speaking grew increasingly brusque. “How about this? “I’m a Tokyo dry goods merchant, but I’ve come into possession of considerable alcohol through loan repayments. What do you think? “Would you consider exchanging them for mushrooms? I can offer favorable terms.”

“Nah, that’s no good.” “We have sake right here.” “You buy it from town, I suppose?”

“Nah.” “Is there a liquor store somewhere?” “It isn’t exactly a liquor store.” At this, the Tax Office Chief started in alarm.

“Where is it?” “Where? Well, it’s separate from the cooperative, you know.” The young man snapped his mouth shut.

The Tax Office Chief felt as if he could leap for joy. He was just one more push away. There were those producing at least one koku each month and selling four or five shō here and there. He would definitely catch them today.

“Is Shiitake Mountain far?”

“It’s one ri.”

“Is this road passable?” “It’s passable.” “Then I’ll go inspect the mountain area. There should be personnel stationed there too.” “There are.”

“Very well, let’s proceed that way. Since I’ll have to go there eventually anyway instead of waiting here forever.” “Well then, thank you for your time. I’ll be sure to call again.”

The Tax Office Chief exited the small cooperative hut. A little further on, the road split into two. The Tax Office Chief hesitated for a moment, but upon seeing a child of about fifteen carrying a bundle of grass approaching from the opposite direction, he waited and asked. “Hey, how do you get to Shiitake Mountain?” Then the child, seemingly unable to hear well, tilted his head and squinted one eye as he spoke. “Where to – the Company?” Company – this is serious, the Tax Office Chief thought.

“Ah~ it’s the Company.” “The Company’s probably near Shiitake Mountain, right?” “That’s not right.” “Shiitake Mountain’s this way—and if it’s the Company you mean—this way.” “How many ri is it to the Company?”

“It’s one ri.” “How about it? Does the Company have daily deliveries by horse-drawn carts?” “About once every three days.” Hmph—this Company was neither a lumber operation nor an acetic acid plant; they were up to something outrageous. The Tax Office Chief’s heart pounded so fiercely at the thought of going to arrest them that his vision nearly blurred. And the child once again shouldered the heavy load and went off. The Tax Office Chief bustled down the road like a grade school child riding a train for the first time. After traveling about half a ri, the terrain turned mountainous. The road advanced along a narrow, pristine plateau that followed the valley, yet the horse-drawn cart tracks were still clearly cut into it. Ahead, a triangular hill of withered grass came into view, and the shadow of a cloud slowly raced across it.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” A stately man holding a hawk, with a black handkerchief tied around the neck, stood in front of a small house on the left side of the road and shouted at the Tax Office Chief.

“I’m heading to Shiitake Mountain.” The Tax Office Chief answered calmly. “Shiitake Mountain isn’t this way.” “You’ve gone completely the wrong way.” The young man said in a low, angry voice. “I see. Isn’t there a path from here that leads out that way?” “There’s none. You’ve got no choice but to turn back.” “I see. Then I shall turn back.” If a fight broke out now, there was no way he could win. Realizing he wouldn't last a moment longer, the Tax Office Chief hurriedly gave a single bow and began retreating. When he thought it was probably safe enough and glanced back over his shoulder, the young man stood arrogantly in the middle of the road, glaring at him as if to kill. Beside him stood a young woman making a worried gesture. The Tax Office Chief felt as if his feet weren’t touching the ground. There was already a properly built small illicit brewery a bit further upstream from that house. They were producing three to four koku each month. This was some serious tax evasion. He decided that even if he had to go around the mountain, he would take a look. And after descending quite a ways and making three or four turns at the corners, when he cautiously looked back with great vigilance, all that remained ahead was a single pine tree jutting out over the cliff—both that man and the house had completely vanished from sight.

"Now's the time," the Tax Office Chief thought, and in one leap jumped from the road up onto the grassy cliff beside him. Then he scrambled recklessly up that hill. Atop the hill stood a small triangular marker, and from there, the ridge stretched unbroken all the way to that angular hill in the distance. The Tax Office Chief advanced in that direction, pushing through the glittering dry grass without even a moment to wipe his sweat or catch his breath. Somewhere, bees or something droned, and the wind carried the pleasant scents of dry grass and pine resin.

When he glanced back, the village of Yuguchuyumoto lay peacefully and neatly below, while far beyond it, the river flowed like a silver belt, and on its bank, the red smokestacks of Haanamukiya Town came into view. The Tax Office Chief had briefly grown sick of searching for illicit brewing, but regaining his composure, he hurried toward that triangular mountain even as his feet kept catching in the azaleas. Indeed, black sweat plopped down from that paint-smeared face and stained his shirt yellow. However, when he reached the top of Triangular Mountain, the Tax Office Chief unwittingly held his breath. In the valley just below, a glance revealed a rather large hut shaped like a shiitake drying area, complete with a chimney. What proved especially suspicious was how the hut stood flush against the cliff behind it—a cliff that appeared deliberately carved from soft rock. There was indeed a chamber hewn from stone at the hut's rear, where most operations seemed conducted. This was already substantial. There might be small-scale breweries around, but this was unmistakably the Company mentioned earlier—whose work could this be? That Village Assembly Member reeked of suspicion—without police raids on both village and site simultaneously, no evidence would emerge—someone might come—the Tax Office Chief propped his cheek on his hand and kept watch all day. Then, as if on cue, the young man from earlier popped out of the hut. A broad wave of someone's arm followed—no sooner seen than a voice shouted, "Hey, Sakichi!" Looking down, he found a horse-drawn cart parked nearby. From its side emerged a man with bent knees; together they entered the hut. Just as the Tax Office Chief thought This is serious, the two men reappeared carrying large two-to barrels between them. With a heave-ho they loaded them onto the cart while scanning their surroundings. The horse gleamed jet-black; though the valley roared with rapids below, all remained still. The Tax Office Chief shook his head furiously in excitement. The men reentered the hut. They stooped to fetch another barrel—then a third man emerged behind them. He climbed onto the cart and peered downstream. The pair went back inside and returned with yet another barrel. Well that makes six to already—surely this isn't all? Even if so—six koku monthly means major tax evasion—the Tax Office Chief calculated.

However, they came out again. And then they went in again and came back out. Another koku—at ten koku a month, the Tax Office Chief’s head was spinning. However, they went in again. This time it was twelve koku a month. Then fourteen, sixteen, eighteen—by the time the Tax Office Chief had calculated up to twenty koku as if in a dream, the cart was already crammed full of barrels. Then the three men began placing fresh pine branches from beside the hut onto it and covering it. In the blink of an eye, it was completely bound up—the cart took on a greenish hue, and the barrels vanished from sight. To anyone who looked, it now appeared as nothing more than pine branches being transported from the mountain to a turpentine factory. The horse-drawn cart started moving. The horse kicked its hooves as if in earnest, appearing quite burdened. Then the young man from earlier followed after the horse-drawn cart. Then, during the approximately eighteen meters they traveled, the man who had exited the hut last stood waiting with his arms crossed but suddenly started walking and followed along as well. (Truly ingenious. How long have they been doing this? No one’s left in that hut now—I’ll investigate everything while I can. The evidence must be here.) The Tax Office Chief raced down from Triangular Mountain’s peak toward the hut like the wind. However, the hut’s entrance was securely fastened with a Western-style lock. (Now there’s finally no one left. It would take that guy at least two hours to go to the village and come back. I have to find a way in somehow.) The Tax Office Chief paced restlessly around the hut like a fox. Then he found a window slightly open by about an inch. The Tax Office Chief inserted his fingernail there and pushed up—the glass pane rose with a click.

Overjoyed, he leapt inside, but in the darkness he couldn’t make out anything at first—it was a completely empty, cavernous room. The one with the chimney seemed to be the next room. When he hurried over there and looked, there it was—there it was: a large iron kettle, about two meters in diameter, properly assembled with bricks and firmly installed. The Tax Office Chief rubbed his eyes and surveyed the room thoroughly. In the corner by the shelves, there was one acetylene lamp. Matches had also been placed there. When he quickly took them down and checked, they seemed to have been used just moments ago and were still warm. He twisted the valve to release the gas and lit it, whereupon the room suddenly brightened. The Tax Office Chief charged into the inner room like a soldier storming a position. The space was a chamber carved from white tuff, and he ascertained that it measured a full forty *tsubo* (approximately 132 square meters). At the rear were around fifteen twenty-koku sake barrels neatly lined up, and even a separate room that appeared to be a koji chamber alongside them. Moreover, burettes, pure cultures of lactic acid bacteria, pipettes—everything was neatly arranged in perfect order. Ah, it's over. Every last one of those who clapped and laughed at my lecture are in on it. I’ll have to arrest more than half of that village. This is utterly disastrous—the Tax Office Chief nearly collapsed. At that moment, something yellowish suddenly flashed behind him.

When he looked, the door at the hut's entrance was flung open, and two shadowy figures were entering—weren't they? The Tax Office Chief staggered like a deer mid-dance but instantly snuffed the acetylene flame. He crept toward the shadow of fifteen dark sake barrels. Footsteps and voices boomed through the echoing space. “Intruders! Intruders!” “He’s hiding! He’s hiding!” “Pulverize him!” “Watch it—he’s armed with a pistol!” The Tax Office Chief thought, I’d love to fire off a Blam! At that instant, the acetylene flame ahead died. Casting a sickly bluish glow, the light crept cautiously closer. “Behind the sake barrels!” The two men advanced crawling on all fours.

The Tax Office Chief darted nimbly between the barrels. Then he finally became wedged in a space between the barrels that was far too narrow, unable to advance or retreat.

The acetylene flame came right up to his feet from the side. No sooner had he registered this than a thick black hand shot out and seized the Tax Office Chief by the neck. His head rang with a resounding crack. The Tax Office Chief saw himself lying collapsed like a crab in the square before the sake barrels. He had utterly no strength left. He still clutched the acetylene lamp.

“Stand up, you damned fat bastard. We’ll throw you into the charcoal kiln—you’d better believe it.”

(If they put me in the charcoal kiln, my smoke would rise with the wood smoke into the mountains. How pathetic.) The Tax Office Chief thought, his face paling.

“Who are you? You’re a tax collector, right?” “No.” The Tax Office Chief replied in a pitiable tone.

“Just tie him up!” A man gestured with his chin. One man set down the acetylene there and moved like the wind to bring a rope. The Tax Office Chief was tightly bound.

“Hey, I’ll stand guard here—go alert the president and auditor now.” “Right.” One man dashed out again with startling speed. “Talk, you damn beast! You’re tax scum, ain’t ya?” “I’m not.” “Then why’d you sneak in here?” The Tax Office Chief finally steadied himself. “I’m a dried goods merchant from Tokkei.” “What’s some Tokkei merchant doing in this hellhole?” “Came to buy mushrooms.” “Mushrooms.”

“Ah… I thought they were making mushrooms here… so I was watching.” “My business card has also been properly left at the cooperative.” “What’s an honest mushroom merchant doing crawling through the window of a locked house?” “I… I thought it was okay to go into the mushroom hut.” “I got tired of waiting outside… so I ended up sneaking in.” “Hmm…” “If you say so… then that’s how it must be.” "This was it," he thought. "If I don't escape now… before they all come…" He braced himself—this would take everything he had.

“Hey, quit it already and untie me. I’ll pay top dollar for your mushrooms—any amount you’ve got. I’ve got a wife and kids back in Tokkei too. Coming all this way just to end up like this—I can’t take it. Please untie me.”

“Yeah, well, everyone’s coming now, so just wait a bit.” “It would’ve been better if we’d reported this properly to the president and executives after hearing you out.” “So come on, let me go already.” “I’ll send you a hundred yen once I get back to Tokkei, I promise.” “Just wait a bit.” “Ah—if they wait any longer—there’s no telling what might happen.” The Tax Office Chief spun around and nearly collapsed again.

But it was already too late.

The entrance erupted in a clamor as about six black shadows came rushing in. "This is hell. This is it," the Tax Office Chief thought. The man who had been standing guard until now stood up to greet them. Everyone formed a circle around the Tax Office Chief. "This guy's apparently a mushroom merchant from Tokkei." "He apparently came here intending to buy mushrooms."

“Hmm. Earlier, some shady character left a business card at the cooperative. This must be him.” A crisp voice rang out. The Tax Office Chief thought he recognized the voice and raised his head, only to be genuinely startled. That was the Honorary Village Mayor. There was a brief silence.

“What do you say? Should we let him go?” another voice asked. The Tax Office Chief looked up sideways in that direction. That was the Village Assembly Member. “No—we need to investigate this thoroughly,” someone interjected. “If we don’t double-check everything, there’ll be hell to pay later.” The Chief glanced briefly toward the speaker. There stood the elementary school principal who had turned pale during his lecture. In other words—their very own Mr. Taruko. “Actually, this is the man I chased away from the guardhouse earlier. When I found him suspicious and questioned him, he asked, ‘Is Mushroom Mountain this way?’ I told him, ‘Wrong direction—get lost!’ Then he had the gall to ask, ‘Isn’t there a looping path from here?’ ‘No!’ I said. When I ordered him to leave, he reluctantly turned back. So how’d this sneak wind up here? He’s clearly a Tax Office plant!”

“Hmm. “Now that you mention it, his face does look vaguely familiar to me too.” “Drag him out front. You—get back to the guardhouse and stay put.” The company president and Honorary Village Mayor said. “Get up, you bastard!” The Tax Office Chief was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and dragged out like a cat. When he came out front, the sunlight was indeed warm, shining down with an amber glow. "(Even if they put me in that charcoal kiln and turn me to ash, the sun will still keep shining this beautifully.)" The Tax Office Chief suddenly thought, as if in a dream.

“What the— This guy’s the Tax Office Chief!” The Honorary Village Mayor exclaimed in shock. Then everyone began scattering like startled prey. The Tax Office Chief stood up resolutely, his resolve now absolute.

“Indeed, I am the Tax Office Chief. You all had the gall to violate national laws with this outrageous scheme. I’ve had my eye on you from the start. The evidence is fully secured. Crush me, burn me—do as you please! Everything’s already in place. You’ll all be arrested for illicit brewing, obstruction of justice, and murder—mark my words!” The company president and auditor had turned positively pale. For a moment, everyone fell completely silent.

"Here," the Tax Office Chief thought.

“Come on, if you’re going to kill me, then kill me! A public official perishing in the line of duty is only to be expected.” The Tax Office Chief felt quite satisfied. Then suddenly came a wham from behind. While thinking “Not again…,” the Chief fell, and everyone turned murderous at once. “Hang him! Hang him from the tree!” “Nonsense—there’s no way they’ve gathered evidence yet.” “Once we deal with this one bastard, we’re safe.” “Shove him into the Kabaka charcoal kiln!” In an instant, the Tax Office Chief was strung up the pine tree. The Village Assembly Member stepped forward and said.

“You bastard! Forgetting you were treated to a feast at someone’s house—what gall!” “Shall we roast him?”

“Don’t resort to barbarism.” The Tax Office Chief, hanging there and suffering, flailed about as he spoke.

“Anyway, let’s take some damage control measures, shall we?” “We’ll discuss this inside.” The Honorary Village Mayor said.

Everyone went inside.

The Tax Office Chief lost consciousness up in the tree.

V. The Tax Office Chief's Detention

After some time had passed, the Tax Office Chief realized he had been placed in that inner room. A cold cloth lay on his head and a blanket covered him. The man who had been last to exit the hut kept devout watch while tending to him. Outside came a clamor of discussion—they seemed to be either debating countermeasures or holding a drinking party. When the Chief stirred his body, the young man immediately drew near to check his condition. Then opening one door and then another, he went out into a large outer room. No sooner had he left than the Honorary Village Mayor entered. He wore a brown Western-style suit. "(Looks like I slept two or three days straight.)" the Tax Office Chief thought.

The Honorary Village Mayor sat down, bowed respectfully, and said.

“Chief.” “The other day, we committed quite an outrageous act of violence.” “In truth, we acted without any regard for consequences, and for that, we deeply apologize.” “In truth, it was only because your enforcement had become so excessively strict that we ourselves ended up forming a corporate organization and going to such lengths—a situation for which we are truly ashamed beyond words.” “In light of this, how would you wish to proceed?” “Our company will be dissolved effective today, and all alcohol will be produced under my name with taxes duly paid.” “We will send you home by automobile, and we would ask that you keep this matter strictly confidential on this occasion.”

The Tax Office Chief thought he had already won.

“Oh, spare your words—I’m thoroughly humbled.” “I too have carried out various duties in my official capacity, yet I fully grasp your position.” “But now that matters have progressed this far, keeping them confidential is utterly impossible.” “With the affair already widespread, we can hardly avoid sacrificing two or three individuals.” “That said, I shall never disclose the various matters pertaining to myself publicly.” “Simply pay the fines, and that should settle things.”

“Well, you see... it’s just that we would rather not have our names made public, starting with us.” At that very moment, the front area suddenly erupted into chaos as fierce shouts and the sounds of scuffles broke out. It was exactly like a storm.

“Chief! Chief!” Someone shouted.

The Tax Office Chief sprang to his feet. “Oh! I’m here! Well done, well done!” “Shiratori, I’m here!”

Immediately, two or three people kicked down the room’s door and came rushing in. “Chief—you’re unharmed! We’ve arrested everyone,” Officer Shiratori cried out as he ran forward. “You caught on quick,” said the Tax Office Chief. “Did you rope in the police too?”

“Yes—full mobilization.” “Twenty people have been arrested.” “This one here.” “It’s the Honorary Village Mayor. But go ahead and tie him up.” The Tax Office Chief said excitedly. “Chief, you’re in good health.” The staff members, wearing headbands and carrying clubs, rushed over. The Tax Office Chief exited the room, his body aching. “Seal all the barrels. Collect only the small instruments as evidence items.” “Also the cultivation of that lactic acid bacteria.” Yeah. Good.

“Well, thank you for your efforts.” The Tax Office Chief greeted the Police Sergeant. “It’s good to see you’re safe.” “Well, even the main office was very concerned.”

“Hey!” “Drag them all outside.”

And now everyone had already filed out of the Ihatov Illicit Brewing Company’s factory. Five minutes later, this strange procession was passing a little past that guard post.

The Tax Office Chief was walking alongside the Honorary Village Mayor. “What’s today’s date?” The Tax Office Chief abruptly turned around and asked Officer Shiratori. “The fifth.”

“Ah, it’s already been four days since that day.” “In just a short time, the tree buds had grown large.”

The Tax Office Chief looked up at the sky. Spring-like damp white clouds hazily emerged from beyond hills' slopes，and the scent of kuro moji drifted gently on wind carrying hints of charcoal smoke from distant kilns.

“Ah, what a lovely scent,” the Tax Office Chief said. “What a pleasant scent,” the Honorary Village Mayor said.