A cellophane tape quotation changed the world. Of course, at that moment, Tatsuki Takuma had no idea whatsoever. He couldn't have. All that filled his vision was the text "Cellophane Tape 10-Pack × 30 Cases" and a single-digit discrepancy lurking in the unit price column. Tobushima Stationery Co., Ltd., 3rd floor sales division. Daylight-colored fluorescent lights illuminated thin beige walls, and 32 desks lined up in perfect rows. Through the window, the thin surface of the Sumida River was visible, but no one had the leisure to gaze at it five minutes before quitting time. "Takuma, got a sec?" His supervisor Takiyama approached slowly from the management section at the back of the floor. The time: 17:55. (That walk. I've seen it before. I know it. That's the "resubmit by end of day" walk.) "This proposal's unit price is off by one digit," Takiyama said. "...Understood," Takuma replied. "By end of day, please," Takiyama said. As Takiyama's back receded, Takuma Tatsuki let out