China Bought Tokyo's Worst Mall for $1 Billion (And Nobody Told Them It Was Already Broken)

When even a billion-dollar makeover can’t fix structural failure

Written from Aoyama, Tokyo

The Billion-Dollar Bet on a Failing Building

In December 2024, a Chinese investment fund called Gaw Capital made headlines with a bold move: they bought Tokyo Plaza Ginza—a struggling commercial building in one of Tokyo’s most prestigious districts—for $1 billion (¥150 billion).

They renamed it “Ginza Novo.” “Novo” means “new” in Latin. A fresh start. A symbol of rebirth.

The pitch was grand:

  • Capture the booming inbound tourism market
  • Leverage Ginza’s premium location
  • Transform a struggling facility into a shining success

There was just one problem:

The building was already failing before they bought it.

And I know because I’ve been there. Multiple times. It’s been empty for years.

The Building That Was Broken From the Start

Let me tell you what Tokyo Plaza Ginza was like before the Chinese buyout.

I live in Aoyama, so I’m in Ginza fairly often. And every time I passed by Tokyo Plaza Ginza, the same thought crossed my mind:

“How is this place still open?”

The building opened in 2016 with huge fanfare. Prime location (3 minutes from Ginza Station). Luxury brands. A rooftop terrace. Everything looked perfect on paper.

But in reality?

  • Floors were nearly empty
  • Luxury tenants kept leaving
  • The upper floors felt like a ghost town
  • Only the restaurants had any customers

By 2023, the owner (Tokyu Corporation) was so desperate they sold the building at a ¥21.1 billion ($140 million) loss.

That’s right. The building lost $140 million in value in just 7 years.

What the Article Said: A Weekend Visit to “Ginza Novo”

A Japanese journalist visited “Ginza Novo” on its first weekend after the relaunch. Here’s what they found:

Before Opening: A Crowd

Long lines outside. People excited. Tourists and locals alike. Energy. Anticipation.

After Opening: Silence

The journalist walked inside and… the crowd vanished.

“I looked around. All I saw were stores, products, and salespeople. The people who were lined up outside—where did they go?”

The answer: they went straight to the restaurant floor.

Specifically, two restaurants:

  • Tsurutontan (udon noodles)
  • Nemuro Hanamaru (conveyor belt sushi)

These two places were packed. Everywhere else? Empty.

The “Mystery Space” on Floor 7

The most surreal part of the visit was Floor 7.

Back when it was Tokyo Plaza Ginza, Floor 7 was already a problem. It was a huge, mostly empty space with occasional pop-up shops or art installations. People joked about it being a “wasteland.”

But after the relaunch?

It got worse.

“There’s nothing here. Just a giant empty box. A few benches along the wall—but they only make the emptiness more obvious.”

Floor 7 is now a literal void. A space so empty it feels like a mistake.

The journalist watched confused visitors step off the elevator, look around, and immediately leave.

My Experience: Nemuro Hanamaru Is Actually Good

I’ve been to Nemuro Hanamaru at Ginza Novo (back when it was still Tokyo Plaza Ginza). And honestly? It’s great.

If you want good conveyor belt sushi in Ginza, this is the place. Other sushi spots in the area are either crazy expensive or have long waits. Nemuro Hanamaru is a “hidden gem”—not because it’s unknown, but because the building around it is so unpopular that it acts as a filter.

Japanese locals go there. It’s not just a tourist trap.

But here’s the thing: people go there despite the building, not because of it.

Nobody says, “Let’s go to Ginza Novo and explore the shops.” They say, “Let’s go to Nemuro Hanamaru because it’s less crowded than other sushi places.”

The restaurant succeeds. The building fails.

The Real Problem: It’s Not the Tenants—It’s the Structure

The journalist’s conclusion was brutal but accurate:

The building itself is broken.

Here’s why:

1. The Entrance Is Hidden

Unlike typical Ginza buildings with wide, street-facing storefronts, Tokyo Plaza Ginza has:

  • A small, recessed entrance
  • A narrow escalator that feels claustrophobic
  • An elevator tucked away in the back

You have to actively decide to go inside. There’s no casual browsing.

2. The Layout Is Confusing

The floors don’t flow naturally. You take an escalator up, and suddenly you’re in a random section with no clear path forward. People get lost. They give up and leave.

3. It Contradicts Ginza’s DNA

Ginza is famous for window shopping. People stroll down the streets, look in store windows, and decide what to enter on a whim.

Tokyo Plaza Ginza forces you to:

  1. Find the hidden entrance
  2. Take an elevator/escalator to a specific floor
  3. Hope there’s something interesting there

That’s the opposite of how Ginza works.

The journalist put it perfectly:

“In order for Ginza Novo to succeed, it needs tenant power strong enough to overcome these structural disadvantages. Otherwise, its future is bleak.”

The Billion-Dollar Question: Why Did China Buy This?

Here’s what I don’t understand:

How did Gaw Capital not see this coming?

They’re a professional investment fund. They did due diligence. They knew the building’s history. And yet they paid $1 billion for a property that:

  • Had already failed under previous ownership
  • Lost $140 million in value in 7 years
  • Had fundamental structural problems

The only explanation I can think of is: they believed the “inbound tourism” story.

The logic probably went like this:

  • “Tourism is booming in Japan”
  • “Chinese tourists love Ginza”
  • “We understand Chinese consumers better than Japanese owners”
  • “We can turn this around”

But tourism demand doesn’t fix bad architecture.

What Changed After the Relaunch? Almost Nothing.

The journalist checked. Here’s what “changed” after $1 billion changed hands:

Changes:

  • The name (Tokyo Plaza Ginza → Ginza Novo)
  • A few new art galleries and pop-up exhibitions

What Didn’t Change:

  • The tenant lineup (mostly the same stores)
  • The building layout (still confusing)
  • The entrance (still hidden)
  • The exterior signage (still says “TOKYU PLAZA”)

Yes, you read that right. They renamed it “Ginza Novo” but didn’t even change the outdoor sign yet.

The journalist’s conclusion:

“The name changed. But I have no idea what actually changed.”

The Only Bright Spot: Art Exhibitions

There was one thing the journalist praised:

A horror art exhibition called “The Exhibit You Shouldn’t See” was drawing decent crowds. Other floors had small art galleries and cultural events.

The theory: maybe “experience-based retail” can save the building.

Instead of competing with Ginza’s luxury boutiques, turn the empty floors into event spaces, galleries, and “Instagram-worthy” installations.

It’s not a bad idea. But is it enough to justify a $1 billion investment?

I doubt it.

The Bigger Picture: When “Prime Location” Isn’t Enough

This story reveals something important:

Location isn’t everything.

Tokyo Plaza Ginza / Ginza Novo has:

  • ✅ Prime Ginza location
  • ✅ Direct subway access
  • ✅ High foot traffic nearby

And yet it fails. Why?

Because the building itself contradicts the neighborhood’s DNA.

Compare it to the successful stores in Ginza:

  • Mitsukoshi Department Store: Wide entrances, easy browsing, traditional prestige
  • Matsuya Department Store: Same—accessible, welcoming, familiar
  • Ginza Six: Massive, impressive entrance, clear tenant hierarchy

These places succeed because they match how people actually shop in Ginza.

Tokyo Plaza Ginza doesn’t. And no amount of money will change that unless they demolish it and start over.

My Take: Living in Aoyama, Watching Ginza Struggle

I live in Aoyama, one of Tokyo’s trendiest neighborhoods. I watch commercial real estate trends all the time. And I’ve learned one lesson:

Throwing money at a broken concept doesn’t fix it.

Ginza Novo is the perfect example. $1 billion. A new name. New ownership. And nothing changed.

The problem isn’t the brand. It’s not the tenants. It’s not even the location.

The problem is the building was designed wrong from the start.

And here’s the thing: I don’t think the new owners understand that yet. The fact that they haven’t even changed the outdoor signage suggests they’re still figuring out what went wrong.

Meanwhile, Nemuro Hanamaru keeps serving great sushi to people who ignore the rest of the building.

That’s the real story.

What Can Actually Save Ginza Novo?

If I were advising Gaw Capital (which, to be clear, nobody asked me to), here’s what I’d say:

Option 1: Lean Into Events & Art

Stop trying to be a shopping mall. Turn it into Tokyo’s coolest event space.

  • Rotating art exhibitions
  • Pop-up brand experiences
  • Cultural festivals
  • “Instagram museum” installations

Make it a destination for experiences, not shopping.

Option 2: Rethink the Entrance

Knock down walls. Make the ground floor wide open to the street. Let people wander in without thinking about it.

(This would cost a fortune, but so did the $1 billion purchase.)

Option 3: Accept Failure

Maybe the building is just… bad. And no amount of money will fix it.

Sometimes the best move is to cut losses.

Final Thoughts: I’ll Keep Watching

Here’s what I think after reading all this:

First weekend impressions are harsh, but not final.

Yes, Ginza Novo looks like the same old Tokyo Plaza Ginza with a new name. Yes, the structural problems remain. Yes, $1 billion feels like a lot of money for minimal change.

But the building just opened. Maybe—maybe—Gaw Capital has a long-term vision I don’t see yet.

What I do know:

  • Nemuro Hanamaru is still great. I’ll keep going.
  • Floor 7’s potential is real. If they get creative, it could work.
  • The building’s design is still broken. But buildings can be redesigned.

So here’s my plan:

I’m going to keep visiting. Keep watching. Keep reporting.

If Ginza Novo transforms into something interesting—great. I’ll write about it.

If it stays empty and eventually closes—I’ll write about that too.

Either way, this is a billion-dollar experiment in real time. And I live close enough to Ginza to watch it unfold.

Update: March 2026 (planned)
I’ll revisit Ginza Novo in a few months and see what’s changed. If you’re reading this and you’ve been there recently, let me know what you saw.

This story isn’t over. It’s just beginning.

P.S. If you’re in Ginza and want good sushi without the crazy wait, seriously—try Nemuro Hanamaru. You’re welcome.

About the Author:
I’m a Tokyo local living in Aoyama. I’ve been watching Tokyo’s commercial real estate landscape for years, and I’ve visited Tokyo Plaza Ginza / Ginza Novo multiple times. This article reflects my personal observations and the reporting of Japanese business journalists.