May 31st, Night.
Nakayama Family Residence.
After a day of noise and activity, the quiet Japanese courtyard felt unusually peaceful.
In the living room after dinner, Takuya Nakayama was chatting casually with his father, Hayao Nakayama.
"Father, those guys at Konami really hit the jackpot this time," Takuya said with undisguised envy in his voice.
"Their Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles game, riding on the popularity of the anime in North America — the NES and Mega Drive versions together sold over a million copies in just one week."
"A single IP license brought them such enormous wealth. It's enough to make anyone jealous."
Hayao Nakayama held his teacup, nodded calmly, and waited for his son to continue.
"That's why Tom Kalinske must take office as soon as possible. The North American market can't wait any longer. We need him to finish the handover with Mr. Rosen quickly and start working on the ground — grabbing all those high-quality IPs one by one for Sega."
Takuya's tone was full of aggressiveness.
As the father and son were discussing Sega's future plans in North America, the TV on the wall was playing the evening news. The female anchor was reading a financial bulletin in a calm, professional tone.
"Today, Bank of Japan Governor Toshihiko Sumita announced at a press conference that, to curb overheated speculative activity, the official discount rate (base rate) will be raised from 2.5% to 3.25%.
This move ends the ultra-low interest rate policy that has continued for 27 months since Showa 61 (1986)."
The broadcast continued, but Takuya Nakayama's voice suddenly stopped.
He froze in place, his gaze locked on the television screen. The smile on his young face faded instantly, replaced by a grave expression.
Hayao Nakayama immediately noticed his son's change in demeanor.
He followed his son's gaze to the screen — the stern face of Toshihiko Sumita.
An interest rate hike?
For most companies, that wasn't exactly newsworthy enough to discuss overnight.
But Takuya's reaction was far from normal.
The air in the living room seemed to freeze; only the voice of the news anchor flowed through the silence.
Hayao Nakayama said nothing. He simply observed his son quietly — the once-dominant man of the Showa era, now wanting to see what kind of insight his prized son would show in such a moment.
After a long silence, Takuya slowly came back to his senses.
He turned to his father, his expression more serious than ever.
"Father," he said, "let's talk in the study."
Hayao Nakayama was a little surprised by his son's formality, but still rose and followed him into the study.
Inside, the faint aroma of polished wood hung in the air, calm and steady.
Takuya didn't speak right away. Instead, he quietly brewed a pot of gyokuro tea for his father and himself.
As the hot water poured into the teapot, the rising steam carried a gentle fragrance through the room.
He poured the clear tea into two old cups and handed one carefully to his father.
The entire sequence was smooth and poised — far too composed for someone his age.
Hayao Nakayama took the cup, sipped slowly, and studied his son's solemn face.
He knew that whatever came next would be no small matter.
"Takuya," he said at last, "Sega's investments in the stock and real estate markets are quite large, aren't they?"
Takuya's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Yes. The profits from the past two years have exceeded what we earned from arcade sales in ten."
That was the consensus across nearly all Japanese corporations.
"We might need to pull out," Takuya said.
"All of it?" Hayao Nakayama frowned.
"Yes — all of it. And quickly. Decisively."
Takuya met his father's eyes and spoke each word clearly:
"That news report just now — it's a warning bell.
The Bank of Japan raising the discount rate means they've already seen the abyss beneath this false prosperity — the bottomless bubble."
"With even a small rate increase, speculative profits will no longer outweigh the risks."
"More importantly," Takuya continued, his voice steady, "we're dancing on the edge of a knife.
If the wind changes suddenly, our information and channels are nowhere near as strong as those of the old zaibatsu who've run Japan's finance and real estate sectors for decades.
When crisis comes, those big conglomerates will not hesitate to use upstarts like us as sacrificial offerings — they'll pull out cleanly and leave us holding the bill.
Hasn't that happened countless times throughout Japanese history?"
"In finance, Father, there's a saying — 'Better the money in your hand than the promise of more.'"
Hayao Nakayama's expression gradually darkened. He set his teacup down and leaned forward slightly.
But Takuya wasn't done.
"What's even more concerning," he said, "is that this might just be the beginning."
"Governor Sumita's term ends in six months.
For an outgoing official to make such a major policy adjustment right before leaving office — what does that tell you?"
His eyes were sharp as blades.
"It could very well represent the will of the incoming faction that will succeed him!
Which means the next Bank of Japan leadership might pursue even more aggressive, stricter monetary tightening.
They might even deliberately burst the bubble themselves!"
"I'm afraid," he continued quietly, "that an unprecedented storm is now brewing.
And here in Japan — we are standing right at its center."
The study fell silent.
Inside Hayao Nakayama's heart, waves of shock surged.
What stunned him wasn't his son's conclusion — 'withdraw from the stock and real estate markets' —
but rather the entire chain of reasoning that led to it.
From a minor rate hike on the news, to analyzing changes in risk-return ratios,
to political personnel transitions and policy continuity,
to a full-scale assessment of Japan's economic trajectory —
and even predicting how the old conglomerates would self-preserve in a crisis.
This was not the insight of a man in his twenties.
This was the vision of a strategist — someone who understood both human nature and politics with frightening precision.
As he looked at the son who once needed his protection,
Hayao Nakayama realized that he had grown into someone capable of steering not just the Nakayama family,
but the entire Sega empire.
A mix of indescribable pride and unease welled up in his chest.
"I'll have the finance department immediately review all related investment accounts and data,"
Hayao Nakayama said, his voice regaining its calm — but now with a weight it hadn't carried before.
He stood up, walked over to his son, and — for the first time —
patted Takuya's shoulder not as a father, but as a true successor.
"At the same time, I'll use all my connections to investigate every possible candidate for the next Bank of Japan governor, and their policy tendencies."
"Takuya, this can't be rushed yet. Wait for my findings.
As for Sega's stock and real estate holdings — we'll plan carefully.
And… some of the more shortsighted board members — perhaps it's time they step aside."
"Thank you, Father," Takuya said, bowing deeply.
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