He had spent over two months preparing this material.
He had investigated the routes, hotels, stations, contract terms, and project progress as thoroughly as possible.
His problem was not a lack of diligence in his research; rather, he had wanted too badly to reach a conclusion that differed from the mainstream view.
Once the idea that "Seibu has a long-term advantage" began to take shape, he had subconsciously chosen calculation methods that favoured this conclusion.
But now, the young girl before him, using the exact same public information, was crushing almost all of his arguments, one by one.
"Even if you add that part in, the operating rights will still expire after ten or fifteen years."
Takahashi finally spoke again.
"But the assets retained by Seibu will still exist."
This was the last argument he had that could still stand.
Unexpectedly, Satsuki actually nodded.
"After the expiration, Seibu certainly has the right to reclaim the operating rights."
"But fifteen years of operations will not simply vanish the day the contract ends."
"Transport routes, supplier relationships, brand recognition, and the habits consumers have already formed—these will all remain."
"Think about it: if a restaurant you have been eating at for over a decade suddenly changes its flavour one day, would you still like that restaurant?"
"Even so, you cannot be certain that Seibu will definitely renew the contract."
Takahashi said this quickly, as if he had finally grasped a point where he could counterattack.
"I cannot."
Satsuki actually could, but she said it that way nonetheless.
"That is why I also would not count all the revenue after a contract renewal."
"I just feel that Senior Takahashi writing the value after the operating rights expire as zero also lacks basis."
She looked at the two numbers on the blackboard.
"Long-term assets require maintenance, continued financing, and someone to manage them well."
"Operating rights with a fixed term can also generate cash flow within that period and leave behind things that will not immediately disappear."
"Which item exists longer and which item is more valuable cannot be directly equated."
Takahashi stared at the blackboard for a moment.
Satsuki had consecutively dismantled his three most important premises, yet she had never denied that the assets Seibu retained had value, nor had she used any internal data to pressure him.
Every rebuttal started from his own lecture notes.
Takahashi looked up.
"When it comes down to it, what exactly are you trying to prove?"
When he said this, his tone no longer had its initial composure.
Satsuki did not answer.
She picked up the chalk again and drew a line next to what Takahashi had originally written: "Seibu has a long-term advantage," but she did not cross those words out.
"This lecture note proves many things."
Satsuki looked at the blackboard.
"Seibu gained significant benefits from the partnership; it secured the project and also secured the opportunity to continue operating."
"Saionji also needs Seibu's hotels, transportation, and convention facilities; this partnership is valuable to both sides."
Takahashi waited for a few seconds.
"And then?"
"And that is where it stops."
Satsuki tapped the horizontal line lightly with the chalk.
"The existing data can prove that Seibu benefits in the long term, but it cannot prove that Seibu has a long-term advantage."
She turned around and looked at Takahashi.
"Senior Takahashi has already come this far."
Satsuki pointed in front of the horizontal line.
"But in the end, you took one extra step forward."
The chalk then landed on the words "has an advantage."
"And the data in the lecture notes cannot support this step."
The classroom fell completely silent.
Takahashi did not look at Satsuki again.
His gaze remained on the conclusion he had written; his lips were pressed tightly together, and his hand holding the lecture notes subconsciously tightened.
This analysis was the result of over two months of preparation.
Stations, hotels, passenger flow, project progress—every piece of data was something he had collected and organised himself.
The freshman before him had not denied his research, yet she had stripped his most valued conclusion of its foundation.
After a long while, Takahashi spoke again.
"According to your logic, does Saionji gain more benefits?"
He finally looked up, his gaze fixed tightly on Satsuki's face.
Satsuki, however, shook her head.
"I did not say that."
Takahashi frowned.
"You have been pointing out that I underestimated Saionji the whole time."
"Underestimating Saionji does not mean one can directly conclude that Saionji has the advantage."
Satsuki put down the chalk.
"The complete contract has not been made public; outsiders cannot obtain accurate figures for the true costs borne and benefits received by both sides."
"Using this data to prove that Seibu definitely has the advantage—the evidence is insufficient."
She looked at Takahashi and added:
"Conversely, proving that Saionji definitely has the advantage is equally insufficient."
Takahashi was taken aback.
He had originally thought that after Satsuki dismantled his conclusion, she would take the opportunity to provide a completely opposite answer.
But she did not.
"So," Takahashi's voice lowered, "you can only prove that my conclusion is flawed."
"Yes."
Satsuki nodded.
"For now, that is all that can be proven."
She glanced at the lecture notes that had been leafed through until they were somewhat messy.
"Senior Takahashi's research was not in vain."
"It is just that the final sentence was written too hastily."
Takahashi was silent for a long time.
If Satsuki had declared at this moment that Saionji was the biggest winner, he could still have retorted by citing insufficient data.
But she stopped at the maximum point that the evidence could support.
She did not push her own conclusion further forward just to win more thoroughly.
Takahashi finally reached out and picked up the chalk.
He drew a line through his original conclusion, changing "Seibu has a long-term advantage" to "Seibu benefits in the long term."
Only two characters had changed.
Yet the conclusion of the entire analysis was now completely different.
"You are right."
Takahashi put down the chalk, but having all his deductions defeated in a public setting by a junior left his tone still carrying obvious reluctance.
"I proved that Seibu can benefit in the long term from the partnership, but I did not prove that the benefits it received exceeded those of Saionji."
"The data itself was not the problem; it was me, rushing to reach a conclusion, and I went too far."
Naoki, sitting below, stared blankly at the blackboard.
He had originally been deeply convinced that as long as these three juniors listened to Senior Takahashi's analysis, they would at least have some interest in the Economics Research Department.
Whether interest had been generated now, he was not yet sure.
But Senior Takahashi's lecture notes had certainly had their conclusion changed on the spot by one of them.
Satsuki put the chalk back in its place.
"Actually, Senior Takahashi's research was done very well."
Upon hearing this, Takahashi could not help but glance at her.
"Having just had my conclusion dismantled by you, hearing such praise now feels a bit strange."
Satsuki laughed.
"Then let me rephrase that."
"Your material was worth me sitting here until the end."
Takahashi was taken aback.
His expression remained somewhat stiff, but the reluctance in his eyes gradually turned into something else.
"I will recalculate."
"Extensions, financing costs, passenger flow conversion, and the value left behind after the operating rights expire—I will factor them all back in."
Takahashi looked at the two lines on the blackboard.
"Next time, I will produce an analysis that will not be so easily dismantled."
"That is what makes it interesting."
Satsuki nodded slightly.
She had originally only been curious about the topic on the sign and had come in on a whim to listen to a student club's research seminar.
Takahashi's conclusion indeed had obvious problems.
However, he had spent two months collecting data, personally visited the stations and Odaiba, and did not shy away when facing questioning.
When she pointed out a problem, he checked it again; after discovering his conclusion could not stand, he was willing to correct it with his own hands, even in front of dozens of freshmen.
Such a person was still very far from true maturity.
But at least he was worth giving a chance.
Satsuki looked at Takahashi for a moment, then reached inside her jacket and took out a thin business card holder.
Below the podium, Reiko noticed her movement, and her eyebrows twitched slightly. Ayako also put away the smile on her face.
Satsuki opened the card holder, pulled out a pure white card, and handed it to Takahashi.
"This is for you."
Takahashi subconsciously reached out and took it.
The texture of the business card was excellent, but it had no phone number or any job title on it.
On the top of the front, there was only a very small Saionji Family crest.
In the middle, it was written "Saionji Satsuki."
The next one is the "Saionji Group."
He flipped it over to the back and took a look.
The back was also completely blank.
"What is this?"
"If you are truly interested in this matter, once you have finished redoing the analysis, you can take this business card to the Saionji Group to find me."
Satsuki looked at him.
"The people at the door will let you in."
Takahashi looked down at the business card in his hand, then raised his head again.
"Saionji... do you work at the Saionji Group?"
"Something like that."
Satsuki did not offer any further explanation.
She turned and returned to her seat, picking up her handouts.
"Ayako, Reiko, let us go."
"Can we finally go eat?"
Ayako stood up immediately.
"I thought Saionji-san had already forgotten about this."
Reiko tidied up her handouts and handed them back to the department member at the door.
"Who was watching so happily just now?"
"I was just feeling nervous for Senior Takahashi."
Ayako answered righteously.
The three of them quickly left the lecture hall.
The door to the lecture hall closed again.
The silence lasted only a moment before hushed discussions broke out in the back rows.
Some people were still looking back at the door, while others reopened their handouts to compare them with the conclusions just modified on the blackboard.
The department head in charge of hosting walked onto the podium and said a few brief closing remarks.
"That concludes today's open research seminar."
"There are back issues of the department journal at the door; interested students are welcome to take a copy. If you would like to participate in the next event, you can also leave your name and faculty."
The freshmen then began to stand up one after another.
The sound of chairs folding, conversations, and footsteps quickly filled the lecture hall.
Several department members went to the aisles to collect extra handouts, and some stood at the door to continue answering questions about joining the department.
Takahashi did not participate.
He remained standing by the blackboard, holding that pure white business card in his hand.
The content on it was unusually sparse.
The Saionji Family crest.
Saionji Satsuki.
Saionji Group.
Other than that, there was no other information.
"What is her position in the group?"
Takahashi looked at it for a while, then turned his head and asked.
"There is not even any contact information."
Naoki finally squeezed over from the back row at this moment.
He had been busy seeing off the auditing freshmen just now and had not seen clearly what Satsuki had actually given.
"A business card?"
He leaned in a little closer.
After seeing the surname on it, the smile on Naoki's face quickly froze.
"Saionji Satsuki..."
He subconsciously read it aloud, then looked up at the closed lecture hall doors.
"Could she be..."
"You are only just realising it now?"
The fourth-year department head was packing up materials from the podium and could not help but glance back at them upon hearing their conversation.
Takahashi asked: "Do you know her, Senior?"
"I would not call it knowing her."
The department head put down the folder in his hand.
"Last year, I accompanied my family to a reception and saw her from a distance."
After the department head walked over, he first took a look at the business card in Takahashi's hand.
"You really do not know who she is?"
Takahashi shook his head.
"I only know her surname is Saionji."
"She is the daughter of Mr. Saionji Shuichi, Saionji Satsuki."
Naoki was stunned.
"The eldest daughter of the Saionji Family?"
The department head glanced at him.
"Calling her that at school is, of course, correct."
"But if you were to treat her as just an 'eldest daughter' in front of people who truly understand the Saionji Family, you would probably be laughed at."
The expression on Naoki's face slowly changed.
"What does that mean?"
"Mr. Shuichi is, of course, the head of the Saionji Family. But most people in the financial world know why the Saionji Group has been able to reach where it is today in recent years."
The department head's gaze fell back onto the business card.
"From expansion to internal integration, and now this cooperation with Seibu, the person who has truly been leading these matters has always been Miss Satsuki."
Takahashi instinctively looked at the blackboard.
"Did she decide on this cooperation too?"
"At least in my circle, this is not a secret."
The department head said.
"She rarely appears in public and holds no official position in the group. Naturally, common newspapers would not write about this."
"But in banks, trading companies, and those major enterprises, the people who are truly qualified to make decisions would not think of her as just a daughter following behind Mr. Shuichi."
Naoki opened his mouth, then looked back at the closed lecture hall doors.
"So, just now we..."
"Analysed a transaction that she personally directed right in front of her."
The department head finished the second half of the sentence for him.
Takahashi looked down at the business card again.
He certainly knew of the Saionji Family.
The cooperation discussed in today's research seminar was named directly after this surname.
But in his understanding, a so-called "family head" should be someone who rarely appears before ordinary people and is far removed from university clubs.
Yet the person who had been arguing with him at the podium just now was merely a freshman who looked a few years younger than him.
"Is she really a first-year student?"
"First year in the Faculty of Economics."
Naoki nodded with difficulty.
"I asked her that myself."
After he finished speaking, it was as if he finally recalled all the things he had said on the way from the campus path to the lecture hall, and his expression gradually stiffened.
"I even told her that Senior Takahashi had been preparing for this research seminar for two months."
The department head said: "That part was not wrong."
"I also said that once she finished listening, she would definitely think our research department is impressive."
"That part cannot be considered wrong either."
Naoki looked at the conclusion that had just been modified on the blackboard.
"But in the end, it was Senior Takahashi who was left the business card."
The department head chuckled.
"So, your recruitment this time was very successful."
Naoki could not smile at all.
"They did not agree to join our club, though."
Takahashi did not continue listening to them.
He touched the edge of the business card lightly with his thumb and asked:
"Is this kind of business card very special?"
The smile on the department head's face faded a little.
"Very special."
"Or rather, any business card with this name is very special."
He pointed to the family crest again.
"As long as you take this business card to the Saionji Group, the front desk will naturally know where to send the message."
Takahashi looked up.
"Does she often give this kind of business card to others?"
"At least, I have not heard of it."
The department head thought for a moment, then added:
"Saionji Satsuki has no public position, nor does she need to exchange business cards like an ordinary company employee. There should not be many people to whom she would personally hand such a thing."
"My father has dealt with the Saionji Group for several years, and he does not have one either."
Takahashi lowered his head again.
Only at this moment did he truly understand the words Satsuki had said before leaving.
Take this business card and go to the Saionji Group to find her.
The people at the door will let him in.
That was not just a polite remark said in passing.
The department head looked at him.
"Did she invite you to the group just now?"
"After I finish redoing the analysis."
"So, what do you plan to do?"
Takahashi did not answer immediately.
There were still a few department members tidying up tables and chairs below the podium, and most of the freshmen at the door had already left.
The relationship diagram on the blackboard had not been erased yet; the words "Seibu Long-term Beneficiary" remained next to the original conclusion, appearing particularly conspicuous.
He had lost completely today.
Satsuki had not revealed her identity the entire time, which meant she simply did not bother to use her status to pressure people.
She had simply followed the analysis he had built, questioning him layer by layer until he himself could no longer maintain his original conclusion.
But what filled Takahashi's heart more was no longer the embarrassment he felt while standing on the stage just now.
What was important was that she had given him another chance to prove himself.
Takahashi put the business card into the inside pocket of his shirt and pressed it with his hand to confirm it would not fall out.
"Of course I have to redo it."
Naoki asked: "Are you really planning to go to the Saionji Group?"
"What else?"
Takahashi picked up the now-invalid valuation sheet from the podium, took a look at it, then folded it up and tucked it back into his materials.
"She has already opened the door."
"I cannot lack even the courage to go in and lose again, can I?"