MMB Chapter 325 Window Period
Chapter 325 Window Period
(Thanks to "Marco-v-" for the two verified accounts! Thank you for your support! Thanks to "I am Mrs. Yorktown's Dog" for the verified account! Two chapters today~)
At 6:45 a.m. the next morning, when Endo opened the door to his office on the third floor of the SA Group headquarters, the first thing he noticed was the fax machine.
The paper trough is empty.
He put down his briefcase and walked to the fax machine.
Seven pages of paper were neatly stacked on the output tray. In the upper right corner of the first page, a line of hastily written German was penned in blue ink: "Wie besprochen. KW" (As promised. KW).
It's Weber's handwriting. The timestamp shows 2:17 AM.
Endo's fingers lingered on the edge of the paper for a moment.
At 2:17 AM—he knew that Satsuki had gone to have a heart-to-heart talk with Waver. In other words, the young lady had stayed up all night again, and most likely she was drunk.
Young lady, you must take care of your health...
Endo shook his head, took out the seven pages of paper, returned to his desk, and turned on the desk lamp.
Since Satsuki fainted last time, she has been paying much more attention to her health. One or two instances of indulgence shouldn't pose a major problem.
He didn't rush to flip through the pages, but instead took out a red ballpoint pen from the drawer, unscrewed the cap, and placed it beside him.
Then I started reading page by page.
The first page is the list of personnel. Three people: Gruber, Lange, and Hoffmann.
Weber wrote down in great detail each person's name, age, field of expertise, current position, and technical skills, even including their employee ID number within Zeiss.
Endo nodded repeatedly. Knowing Weber as he did, he was the kind of person who would never exaggerate for personal reasons. If these people could join the Saionji family, it would undoubtedly be a significant asset.
Pages two through four contain the equipment list. It also includes a layout diagram of the three floors of Building B (hand-drawn by Weber), which marks the precise location of the ZSM-2200 magnetron sputtering equipment: "B-312, against the north wall, approximately 3.5 meters from the window."
Arrows were used to indicate the power connection points and the routes of the cooling water pipes. The models of the vacuum evaporation equipment and the list of testing instruments for the Dresden VEB Microelectronics consortium were also listed one by one, with even the serial numbers written down.
Endo's brow furrowed slightly as he read the technical specifications of "ZSM-2200".
— "Cathode target holder: hand-ground and assembled, tolerance ±2μm. Only three units remained in East Germany, and this is the last one in operational condition."
He circled the letters "ZSM-2200" in red pen. He paused for a second, then drew a second circle.
Pages five and six contain archival information from the Jena Glass Factory. The materials department is on the second floor; there's a gray metal cabinet with three locks.
The more than thirty handwritten notebooks, spanning from 1971 to 1989, contain a wealth of information on lithium aluminum silicate systems, including formulation data, firing curves, annealing parameters, and analysis records of failed experiments.
Endo picked up the red pen again. "More than thirty notebooks of special formulas from the Jena Glass Factory"—double circle.
Page 7.
When Endo turned to the last page, he found that the content was much shorter than the previous pages. The first half was a brief comprehensive assessment—Weber summarized the priority order of all the targets in engineer-like terms.
Then comes the last paragraph.
The handwriting is different from the previous one.
Weber's writing on the first six pages is neat and compact, in the standard engineering document format. But in the last paragraph, the strokes are noticeably loose, as if he hesitated for a long time after finishing the main text before finally adding it in.
"P.S. — If possible, please bring Hans his accordion. It's his only personal possession."
Endo looked at it for two seconds.
Then he folded a corner from the bottom right of the seventh page.
……
At exactly eight o'clock, Endo walked into the entrance hall of the Saionji main house, carrying a folder. Fujita was already waiting for him at the entrance of the study corridor.
"Mr. Endo," Fujita said with a slight bow, "Miss woke up forty-seven minutes later than usual this morning. She is currently having breakfast in the dining room."
Endo paused for a moment.
Fujita's face showed no extraneous expression—it seemed that Dojima had taught him that an excellent bodyguard should not show any emotion.
But Endo understood.
Ah, the young lady is hungover...
He's not even an adult yet, so why does he act like an old man?
He didn't ask any further questions, he just nodded.
"I'll wait in the hallway."
Fujita stepped aside to make way, then silently retreated into the shadows at the end of the corridor.
Endo leaned against the wall in the corridor, using the time to reopen the folder, his gaze landing on Weber's notes on the last page. He stared at the line for a few seconds, his fingers tracing the folded corner of the paper.
accordion.
He quickly went through the options in his mind—by air, volume wouldn't be a problem. A standard-sized accordion, including the case, would weigh about twelve to fifteen kilograms. It would fit comfortably in any suitcase.
Endo closed the folder.
……
About twenty minutes later, Satsuki appeared at the restaurant entrance.
Endo's first thought was that her complexion was half a shade lighter than usual. Her eyelids were slightly swollen, but this had been concealed with a fine layer of foundation. Her hair was neatly combed, and she had changed into a light blue wool sweater.
If you don't look closely, you can hardly see anything unusual.
But Endo looked at it carefully.
Then he immediately, quickly, and decisively looked away. He pretended to be organizing the papers in the folder.
Satsuki seemed to sense something, glanced at Endo who was putting on airs, pursed her lips, and sat down at the dining table.
Endo glanced at the black tea that the maid brought over—the tea was at least one shade darker than the cup Satsuki usually drank, almost amber in color.
Judging from the smell, it's probably the second harvest of Darjeeling tea, and they likely added twice the amount of tea leaves as usual.
She picked up the cup, took a sip, and closed her eyes briefly.
Then she saw the folder in Endo's hand.
The movement paused for a second.
"Give me."
She reached out her hand.
"Yes, Miss."
Endo immediately handed the folder over with both hands.
Satsuki took it, turned to the first page, and began to scan the paper.
She read very quickly. She spent about two minutes on each page—but Endo noticed that she lingered a few seconds longer on the equipment diagram on the second page and slowed down on the "more than thirty notebooks" on the fifth page.
Fifteen minutes later, she put the last page back into the folder.
She also saw the seventh page, the one with the corner folded by Endo. Her gaze lingered on Weber's footnote for a brief moment—a little over a second.
Then she closed the folder and pushed it back to the other side of the desktop.
He picked up his teacup and took another sip.
Endo.
"Yes."
"The Trusteeship Authority." She set down her teacup, the bottom making a very soft clinking sound as it touched the bone china saucer. "How much do you know about its operation?"
……
Endo Naoki stood up.
The intelligence he had retrieved overnight from his office in Frankfurt was now clearly organized in his mind.
"The legal framework has been established." He spoke calmly, "Article 25 of the Treaty of Unity clearly stipulates that all state-owned assets of the former East Germany shall be transferred to the Federal Government of Germany from midnight on October 3rd, and shall be managed and disposed of entirely by the Trusteeship Office. There is absolutely no room for ambiguity regarding ownership."
Satsuki nodded slightly.
"But the administrative level is a completely different story," Endo continued. "The scale that the trusteeship has taken over is—more than 8,500 companies and about four million employees. As of now, even a complete inventory of assets is far from complete. Many companies' books are still handwritten, and the archives even need to be manually verified item by item."
He paused for a moment.
"Due to a severe shortage of internal personnel, several hundred civil servants and financial advisors dispatched from West Germany were tasked with managing the entire assets of an industrialized nation within two to three years. This resulted in each of them being assigned dozens of companies—they didn't even have time to conduct on-site visits, let alone make accurate assessments."
"What about Zeiss Jena?"
"It has been placed on the priority list for disposal," Endo replied. "West German Zeiss holds priority rights to the 'Zeiss' trademark and is expected to lead the merger negotiations. But this so-called 'merger'—"
"They'll pick out what can be included in the reports first. As for skills that can't be included in the reports, they're usually factored into the cost of layoffs," Satsuki finished for him.
"Yes. Negotiations haven't even begun regarding which equipment and personnel West Germany Zeiss will retain and which will be relinquished. The Jena glass plant is in a similar situation, and it's highly likely to be taken over by the Schott Group. No contract has been signed yet either."
Endo put his hands behind his back.
"My assessment is that the window of opportunity is about three to six months. Before the West German companies formally sign the takeover agreement, that's when we should act. Once the contract is finalized and the ownership of the assets is clearly defined down to the specific items, it will be almost impossible to intervene."
Satsuki did not respond immediately. She placed the teacup on the table, her fingers lightly resting on the rim, her gaze fixed on the cover of the folder.
There was a silence of about five seconds.
"The asset inventory that the trusteeship is doing for Zeiss Jena," she began, "where is it at?"
"Currently, the Trustee's inventory of Zeiss Jena is still at the 'departmental level,' meaning that it reports a total asset amount for the entire department or floor. Itemized cataloging has not yet begun."
"Specifically, the third floor of Building B." Satsuki looked up from the folder at Endo. "Do they have a list of each piece of equipment?"
Endo shook his head.
"The number of devices on the third floor of Building B may have been recorded. However, the specific model, technical parameters, and actual value of each device have most likely not been accurately assessed."
He added, "This kind of assessment requires professionals in the field of optics. But the officials sent by the trusteeship are all administrative officers with backgrounds in finance and law."
Satsuki's lips twitched slightly. The movement was so subtle that Endo, who hadn't been with her for so many years, probably wouldn't have noticed it at all.
"In other words, they themselves don't know how much these things in their hands are worth."