The Most Gullible Man I Have Ever Known

The most suitable adjective to describe the late Mr. M is “gulllible.” He was one of my work colleagues at N High School. Although he was 15 years older than I, we had good chemistry. He loved writing haiku, growing flowers, and reading Dickens. We often talked with each other in the teachers’ room, at coffee shops, and on our way back home after school.

One day he told me about the bitterest experience he had had in his 60 or so years of life. He was scammed out of 9 million yen by a kind-looking “gentleman.”

About a month before, he had dropped in at a coffee shop of which he was a regular customer. Since he and the shop owner were on friendly terms, he complained to him.

“I have been trying to sell my property for a long time. The price is reasonable, but it hasn’t been sold. It’s really troublesome.”

 Another customer sitting near Mr. M happened to hear his complaints and approached him.

“Excuse me, but I am a real estate agent.” He was in his 40s and looked neat and decent in his suits. He took out his business card out of his wallet and handed it to Mr. M. It showed his name and his business: a licensed, well-established real estate dealer.

“I’ve overheard that you are in trouble in selling your real estate. I have helped a lot of people who had troubles concerning real estates. I would like to help you if you don’t mind.”

After talking with the man for some time, Mr. M thought he was a sincere and reliable man. So he asked him for help.

The next Sunday, he took the agent to his estate to show it to him. He measured the size carefully, staked out the borders, and took pictures.

“Good. This is a good piece of land,” he said. “Depend upon me. I am sure I can sell it for you in a week or so.” Mr. M was happy to hear that.

Several days later, the agent called him saying that he had found a man who wanted to buy the estate and that he would introduce the prospective buyer to them when convenient. On that day when the buyer saw the land, he said, “I would like to buy the land at 13.8 million yen.”

Although his price was 200,000 yen less than Mr. M’s asking price, he decided to sell it to him. He was glad that he had at last found a buyer. That day the agent and Mr. M went to a sushi shop to celebrate the successful deal. After they had had a merry time over sushi and sake, the dealer insisted on paying the expense saying, “No, no, it’s MY pleasure to help you.” Mr. M believed the man completely.  

One morning four days later, or one day before the payment of the money, the dealer visited Mr. M and asked him to lend him 10 million yen for just half a day because he had made a big mistake in the stock market. He needed that amount money urgently to compensate the loss. He said he would return the money with 5 percent of interest first thing in the next morning without fail. He sobbed and pleaded with him saying he would have to commit suicide without the money.

Although Mr. M didn’t know much about the stock market, he believed what he said. He was the type of man who couldn’t reject others’ desperate pleading. Besides, he thought he would not get his 13.8 million yen from his property sale if the dealer committed suicide. Mr. M thought, “After all this man helped me and will surely return the money tomorrow morning.” So, he went to the bank, withdrew 9 million yen, and lent it to him in exchange for his IOU with his seal on it. The agent thanked Mr. M again and again and assured him that he would return the money and the interest before noon the next day.

The next morning the dealer did not appear. Mr. M telephoned him but he got no answer. He called him again and again but in vain. He telephoned him repeatedly the day after the next day, without an answer. Mr. M called him on the following days, but the dealer did not call him let alone visit him. Finally Mr. M visited his office, but it was a sham. He checked the seal at the city office, but it was a fake. After painstaking inquiries, he at last found his telephone number and called him.

“I’ve had a traffic accident and I’m in critical condition,” he said.  

When Mr. M called him the next time, he said, “My mother is seriously ill. So, don’t bother me anymore. The fucking money? Why don’t you believe me? Didn’t I say I would return it? I will surely return it. So, never call me again, Damn Idiot!”

Mr. M advised me at the end of his story, “Be careful when you deal with real estate. Swindlers are looking for prey.”

I think his bitter experience shortened his life. He died at the age of 64.