A Lesson on Going All In
In the story of ‘Akagi’ by Nobuyuki Fukumoto, two cars sit parallel at the start of a desolate coastal road, facing a cliff that plunges into the roaring ocean below.
In the car on the left sits a mafia thug, a man who thrives on power and control. His fingers drum on the steering wheel, his smug grin betraying his confidence. Tonight, he’s here to collect a debt and he always gets what he’s owed.
In the car on the right, a young man sits motionless, his face unreadable. There’s no trace of fear, no tremor in his hands. His steady gaze is fixed straight ahead, as if he’s already made peace with what’s to come.
The bet is on a simple game of chicken: both cars race toward the edge of the cliff, and the first to stop loses.
The sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows on the narrow road as the engines roar to life. The thug’s grin widens as they start. The thug’s grin widens as they start. He knows the game is rigged in his favor. Positioned on the left, he can leap out of the driver-side door to safety before reaching the cliff’s edge. The young man, blocked by the thug’s car, doesn’t have that luxury.
Both cars shoot forward, their tires screaming against the dirt road. The thug’s confidence grows as he watches the young man’s car keep pace. “You don’t know you’ve already lost,” he mutters, his smile widening.
But, as the cars race towards the edge, the thug glances sideways and his grin falters. The young man stares dead ahead, his face like stone.
No fear.
No hesitation.
A seed of doubt sprouts in the thug’s mind.
100 meters.
The thug glances at the young man again, expecting him to brake. But he doesn’t. The car only accelerates.
80 meters.
The thug’s heart pounds harder. A bead of sweat rolls down the thug’s temple as his doubt blossoms into fear.
50 meters.
The engine roars drown out the sound of the waves below. His breath comes in short, ragged gasps. Still no sign of stopping.
30 meters.
Sweat stings his eyes. His pulse pounds in his ears. Panic floods his chest.
20 meters.
He slams on the brakes, his foot crushing the pedal to the floor. The tires screech, but it’s too late. The car skids uncontrollably ,hurtling toward the edge.
Desperately, he throws open the door and leaps out.
The ground gives way beneath him.
He falls, tumbling toward the jagged rocks below. His screams are lost to the wind, and the sharp cliffs rise to meet him.
And in those final, fleeting moments, he sees it:
The young man’s car rocketing off the edge of the cliff at full speed, soaring into the air like a missile.
The thug’s mind reels in disbelief and the truth hits him.
The young man had realized the game was rigged, and he knew there was no winning by the usual rules.
His only path to survival was to bet everything, to gamble on the raw speed of his car clearing the jagged rocks below and reaching the safety of the ocean.
The thug’s final thought before hitting the rocks is one of bitter irony:
The young man wasn’t playing chicken.
He was trying to live.