Start with what seemed to be an otherwise routine check of the Restricted Rock Paper Scissors simulated environment. Everything is apparently set up for the first test of the long-awaited gambling event. Until Tonegawa asks if the cards deposited in the box have any kind of micro-chip embedded in them to activate the count (there is a huge electronic board that is supposed to record which cards have been used). His query is met with a parade of blank expressions, making him realise their answer. He looks for some redeeming quality in their failed attempt at carrying out orders and asks them if the boxes have any mechanism to register the discarded gesture cards. This time he takes longer to realise that they let him down again, taking to his feet and opening the closest enclosure only to peer down at a vast amount of empty space. He's reasonably crossed and asks them to personally sit inside the boxes and manually count the votes. The subordinate body takes that impassively and voices their refusal at this offhand solution. Tonegawa curses at them and storms out of the room, visibly distressed.
Tonegawa makes it to his old meeting room, which allows him some reflective exercises and to put the whole situation in perspective. Looking back, he realises that maybe he might have been too harsh on them. But he also takes no fancying to the idea that they couldn't figure out on their own that it was obvious that the whole point of the rehearsal was to test the main supporting components in Restricted Rock Paper Scissors. While lost in a pensive mood, the phone rings, informing him to come over and observe the black suits' progress. He picks up an arbitrary card and puts it in the box (those things are more like crates used for storage). Without getting his hopes too high, he observes in wonder as the electronic board is updated at once, divulging the current count of the remaining cards.
The viewer might be tempted to expect another advancement of the plot, but for Tonegawa there's still something amiss: his curiosity prickles his probing senses, and he inquires about the technology utilised for the working boxes. He lifts the top to check the technology behind the counting feature, and what he finds is Saemon playing a playstation 4 while comfortably seated. The whole interior of the box is outfitted with the latest in video games, with countless options to keep a youngster entertained for hours. Other boxes are opened to assuage his inquiring demands, revealing other aspects of his subordinate team that he was previously unaware of: a Saemon's coworker had always dreamed of owning a personally library, and now he had just that, albeit in a rather confined space. The last display also brings to the viewer a moment of personal affection: the last black suit had set up a form of "cat cafe", complete with 3 kittens that do nothing but cuddle and purr. Tonegawa is speechless, managing just enough semblance of sanity to tell him to keep the feline occupants quiet.
Even though things aren't going his way, the rehearsal should still go on and they proceed to the part where they have to actually reenact the people taking part in the real thing. The mock gambling session has another quirk: the game turns out to be lackadaisical when the men limit themselves to only exchanging niceties among each other. They might be constrained by the current labour ties, which mandate that their performance should be carried ut in as formal an atmosphere as possible. Certainly not something exciting enough to entertain the chairman.
Enter Endou, the local loan shark. He makes his very first appearance explaining to Tonegawa that he needs real broke people. A regular passer-through is introduced, his back to the camera and padding slowly across the room. He wears the same garments as Kaiji, until a clear view of his facial features proves that he was just a run-of-the-mill gambler, with nowhere no to go apart from indulging in his own personal petty pleasures. This includes the horse track and pachinko. Other walk-ins are introduced, their backgrounds explained. The intention behind this is to ingrain in the employees responsible for simulating the events to be held abord the Espoir a sense of wickedness to make the playing atmosphere more faithful to what the chairman has in mind. The real question is? won't the chairman be displeased? Only the angle of his eyebrows (and Tonegawa's efforts) can answer this.
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