This essay recounts the act of directly conveying critical truths to Tokyo Stock Exchange officials, describing it as a life-risking duel. It reflects on physical limits after serious illness and the resolve to speak for the sake of Japan.

February 15, 2016

Today, on behalf of the company president in question—an elderly man—I conveyed what I had sent to the world yesterday not only to those responsible for short selling at the Tokyo Stock Exchange, but in a manner that would also reach the current president.

While speaking, I became keenly aware that I was doing so after having suffered a serious illness.

To speak what I wrote yesterday is equivalent to a samurai engaging in a duel with real swords.

Before my illness, I could have spoken at machine-gun speed, like a Harvard-style talk, without any trouble.
But this time, it placed a severe strain on my body, and I felt anxiety about my health.

Even though I spoke calmly, the content itself was extremely severe and serious.

I felt it was literally a matter of risking my life, and so I asked for two short breaks.

A duel demands ultimate concentration, and I experienced that firsthand.
I was utterly exhausted.

Speaking itself is tiring enough, but when it becomes the decisive duel of one’s lifetime—an encounter that happens only once—the exhaustion reaches a dangerous level.
I sensed a risk to my health, yet somehow managed to reach a conclusion.

To use an abrupt analogy, I was speaking as a descendant of the Date clan, of Date Masamune—or rather, as a descendant of Nobunaga—speaking in order to protect Japan.

I was confronting evil that seeks to casually destroy the happiness of the Japanese people.

In the midst of this, a call came from the company president in question.

The TSE officials listening at the same time immediately recognized who he was.

This essay continues.