GP2 Trial Play

Nakayama Takuya walked back to his desk.

"TV Tokyo didn't produce big-budget productions before because they lacked the funds and distribution channels. Now that they have ample funds, expanding into prime-time live-action drama production is just a matter of my father-in-law giving the nod."

He had his hands in his pockets.

"At the NHK Cultural Research Forum last time, Miyahara approached me directly about this project. I agreed to cooperate with TBS because of their sincere attitude and willingness to cooperate with Sega in making content adjustments."

Nakayama Takuya's voice echoed in the empty office.

Cooperation is possible, but we are by no means indispensable.

Hattori understood completely.

Sega has too many cards to play right now.

They own top-tier intellectual property, have global distribution channels, and have the financially powerful and eagerly awaiting support of TV Tokyo.

If TBS and Dentsu don't understand the situation and still want to control Sega, they're just asking for trouble.

"I understand!" Hattori picked up the folder that almost slipped off the table and hugged it to his chest. "I've conveyed the president's attitude to them."

"Go do it. Come back and report to me when there's some progress." Nakayama Takuya waved his hand.

Hattori bowed, turned and strode out of the office.

In late March, before the cherry blossoms bloomed in Tokyo, spring break had already begun for high schools across the country.

The Central Avenue of Akihabara was completely jammed.

As soon as the shutter door of Yamada Game Shop was half-opened, three or four students in uniforms lay down on the ground and squeezed into the store through the crack in the door.

Yamada stood behind the counter, clutching a thick wad of 1,000 yen bills in his hand.

He dipped the tip of his finger in saliva and quickly counted the items.

The reservation list in the hardcover copy next to it had already reached page 20.

In the very center of the store, two acrylic display stands are extremely eye-catching.

Sega's engineering team just finished installing them a couple of days ago; the two blue and white GP2s are fixed to metal anti-theft brackets.

"Don't push! Line up!" Yamada shouted, slamming his hand on the counter. "Those who want to play Metal Slug, go to the right and gather four people! Those who want to play Plants vs. Zombies, go to the left, three levels per person!"

Kenta and Fatty were at the front of the line, heading straight for the booth on the right.

"Two more!" the fat man turned and waved to the people behind him, "Two more needed, start now!"

Two junior high school students wearing baseball caps quickly came over.

The four people each held onto the GP2 on the support frame.

Metal Slug GP2 wasn't originally on the initial playlist.

This game was still in the mid-to-late stage of testing.

However, Sega's internal development progressed by leaps and bounds.

After reviewing the latest version, Operations Director Hisao Oguchi immediately transferred dozens of people from other project teams and crammed them all into the Metal Slug team.

They relentlessly worked on the code, rushed to run tests and fix bugs, and managed to get this game into the first wave of releases, filling the gap in the initial release of action shooting games.

Only the demo version of the first level has been released this time.

The four machines are connected in series via a dedicated four-pin connector cable.

Despite the addition of infrared communication capabilities, wired communication was still retained, for no other reason than the harsh outdoor sunlight.

In certain environments, the reliability of infrared communication is still somewhat insufficient, and command packet loss may occur.

Kenta presses the START button. The character selection screen pops up.

He chose Marco, and the fat man chose Tarma.

Game loading.

The first level's rainforest scene jumps off the screen.

Sharp's custom-designed high-transparency LCD screen displays 2D pixel mapping with extreme sharpness.

Four little people landed on the grass at the same time.

Kenta pushes the D-pad, Marco runs forward, jumps, and fires.

It feels crisp and clean.

A dozen or so enemy soldiers appeared on the screen.

All four people press the fire button simultaneously.

The screen was filled with bullets and grenade explosions.

There are a lot of units on screen at the same time, but the machine doesn't drop a single frame, making it extremely smooth.

"This function is too powerful." The fat man frantically pressed the buttons, controlling Tarma to throw a grenade.

Midway through the battle, a bound, blond-haired prisoner fell from the sky.

The character controlled by the middle school student shoots the rope in half.

The blond prisoner stood up, pulled a red-glowing [H] ammunition box from his crotch, and threw it on the ground.

Heavy machine gun reward.

"Don't move! Don't move! I need more firepower!" the fat man roared, maneuvering Tarma forward.

"Who cares if you're short or not!" The middle school student next to him frantically pressed the jump button.

All three characters lunged at the ammo box at the same time.

Kenta was closest, and with a single jump, Marco accurately crashed into the [H] ammo box.

You got to eat it.

Marco lifted the crane gun, and the barrel became thicker.

The fat man, who hadn't managed to grab the reward, was about to rush forward when his finger suddenly stopped.

On the screen, Tarma, who failed to grab the heavy machine gun, remained rooted to the spot.

He didn't maintain his running posture; instead, he turned his head Marco, who had just grabbed the heavy machine gun.

His mouth was turned to one side, and his tongue was sticking out long.

Immediately afterwards, a white speech bubble appeared above Tarma's head.

It's full of gibberish.

It's obvious without even guessing that this is Tarma trash-talking.

After cursing, Tarma angrily stomped her feet twice on the spot.

The two middle school students next to them, who were controlling their characters, also failed to get a spot. One of them simply spread his hands and rolled his eyes, while the other squatted on the ground and drew circles.

The fat man stared wide-eyed at the screen.

Kenta was also stunned.

These actions are completely outside the standard operating instructions.

This is an interaction detection mechanism that Sega specifically wrote for the GP2 online mode.

Once the system determines that multiple players are competing for the same loot, the player who receives the loot will be equipped normally, while the players who are deemed to have lost will be eliminated.

At home, the character randomly triggers various funny negative reactions.

These four characters aren't just static pixelated figures; they come alive on screen.

"Hahahaha!" The fat man slapped his thigh and pointed at the screen, laughing wildly, "What kind of setting is this! Tarma's cursing!"

A dozen or so students who were watching nearby all squeezed over to see.

The people in the back row were standing on tiptoe, craning their necks as far as they could.

How did you manage to roll your eyes like that just now?

"They got something even though they didn't manage to steal it! That's amazing attention to detail!"

Let's try capturing another prisoner!

The four players completely forgot about completing the game.

As soon as the reward was announced, all four of them would fixate on the drop location and pounce on it, just to see how the person who didn't get it would jump up and down cursing.

The first boss appears. A huge bomber hovers above the screen.

Missiles rained down across the screen.

The four people frantically maneuvered on the narrow platform.

The sounds of machine guns and explosions, along with the cheers of the surrounding crowd, nearly turned the Yamada Game Shop upside down.

Three minutes later, the BOSS exploded.

The screen went dark, and the message "Trial ended, stay tuned" popped up.

The fat man reluctantly released the D-pad, his thumb covered in sweat.

"Uncle, can we play another round?" The fat man turned to look at Yamada.

"Get lost! There are dozens of people waiting behind us!" Yamada waved the pre-order book in his hand. "If you want to play more, wait until the game console is released, then buy one and play at home!"

Fatty and Kenta were pushed out of the booth area by the crowd behind them.

The two turned and approached the booth on the left.

The team on the left is moving a little faster.

Each player is limited to three levels of Plants vs. Zombies, with a fixed pace.

It was a college student in a baseball uniform's turn to try.

The first stage is a hands-on, nanny-level tutorial.

The college student, holding his camera, looked at the green lawn with a nonchalant expression.

"Grow Sunflower to fight zombies?" The college student scoffed. "This art style is totally for elementary school kids."

He casually pressed a button and planted a few Sunflower.

The zombie slowly emerged from the right, wearing a tattered suit and moving comically.

College students planted Peashooter.

Green peas hit zombies, making a "plop plop" sound.

The first level was easily passed.

In the second level, the number of zombies increases, and a mutant zombie with roadblocks on its head appears.

"Health points increased." The college student sat up straight, his thumb moving faster.

He began planning the defensive line on the lawn.

Front row: Wall-nut; back row: double-tube pea shooters.

The Wall-nut was bitten by a zombie, making a crisp "crunch" chewing sound. Its originally round body gradually developed gaps, and it even shed tears.

"This detail is amazing!" a college student couldn't help but exclaim. "Plants can even cry!"

In the third stage, the pace suddenly quickens.

The Pole Vaulting Zombie leaped over the Wall-nut and headed straight for the Sunflower.

"Holy crap!" The college student panicked and misselected the cursor, planting the Cherry Bomb a whole square off-target.

With a loud "boom".

Black smoke billowed from the screen, but the Pole Vaulting Zombie remained unharmed, biting off Sunflower in one gulp.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no!" The college student frantically pressed buttons to try and salvage the situation.

"Trial session over." The screen suddenly went black.

The college student held his hand up in mid-air, stunned for a few seconds.

"Boss!" The college student turned to Yamada, "Does this game have a complete release version? How many levels are there?"

"Fifty levels of Adventure Mode!" Yamada said without looking up.

The college student immediately pulled out his wallet.

The noise inside the store grew louder and louder.

Some people are fighting over ammo boxes in Metal Slug, while others are calculating the sunlight production rate in Plants vs. Zombies.

On the first day of spring break, long lines stretched around two street corners outside several major stores in Akihabara.

The students gathered together, all discussing the pixelated figure on the screen who had just given the middle finger and started trash-talking.

Anyone who has participated in online demos can't resist the fun of face-to-face sabotage and backstabbing.

The progress that Hisao Oguchi had squeezed from dozens of developers was now receiving its most terrifying reward.

Yamada leaned against the counter, watching the increasingly long queue outside, and casually picked up the phone.

"Sega's Channel Department?" Yamada shouted into the microphone, "Give me another fifty units in the initial release allocation! No! One hundred units!"

I'll transfer the deposit directly to your account this afternoon! Don't tell me you don't have the goods; you have to get them!

Yamada hung up the phone and looked at the hardcover copy in his hand. The number of people who had registered for reservations had exceeded four hundred.

When the GP2 is released next month, a large sum of final payment will be received upon delivery.

This isn't selling game consoles, it's picking up money.

However, with so many people coming to pick up their goods, he considered whether to hire a part-time worker to share some of the work. After all, he still had to do the picking-up work himself, as the customers were his face, and he probably wouldn't be able to take care of other tasks.

A chain convenience store inside Shinjuku Station.

At seven o'clock in the morning, the newspaper deliveryman pushed his handcart and dumped the bundled new magazines in front of the store.

The shop assistant squatted on the ground and cut the packing tape.

Today's shelf displays are completely unconventional.

It's quite normal that several gaming magazines have changed their covers to large gameplay images of the GameGuardian 2.

But weekly magazines like "Shukan Bunshun" and "Friday," which rely on political scandals and celebrity gossip to boost sales, have somehow managed to squeeze out a spot in the sidebar of their front pages.

Long lines in Akihabara! Spring break changed by a game console.

The bold, black title was printed directly on the weekly magazine's cover.

A man on his way to work bought a bento box and, while paying, casually picked up a copy of "Bunshun" magazine.

Turn to the inside pages.

A special report spanning four full pages.

There was no technical parameter analysis, only large-format photos from the scene.

Four people huddled in front of the booth, clutching the handles and laughing hysterically.

The queue stretched for more than two blocks.

A close-up of a zombie's head falling off the screen.

It even included a chart showing the queue times for each store.

Two heavily made-up high school girls stopped in front of the shelf.

One of them pointed to a corner of the general women's fashion magazine "anan".

The blue and white color-blocked machine, as one of the most anticipated trendy items of the season, was featured in the color-page recommendation section.

"Is this what Kenta and the others were talking about every day before?"

"The color scheme is really nice; it's much more stylish than those old, drab gray things."

"It says it Pokémon connect with the Pokéwalker. Shall we go check it out this afternoon?"

The two walked out of the convenience store together.

This craze, through print media, was forcefully instilled into the public eye from the hardcore gaming community within just a few days.

It was evening.

An ordinary family in Chiyoda Ward.

The housewife served the fried pork cutlet on the table and picked up the remote to turn on the TV.

Fuji TV is broadcasting its evening lifestyle news.

The scene cuts directly to the entrance of the Sega flagship store.

The reporter stood outside the police cordon with a microphone in hand.

Behind me was a sea of black heads.

The camera panned across the line.

High school students in uniforms, office workers in suits, and parents with elementary school children.

The reporter stopped a boy who had just squeezed out of the store.

The boy was sweating profusely, his school uniform collar was completely soaked, and his face was flushed red.

"I queued for three hours! Just for five minutes of gameplay!" The boy waved at the camera. "Four people teamed up to fight for ammo boxes, and those who didn't get a character would get angry and curse! It was so much fun! I'm coming again tomorrow!"

The camera cuts back to the studio.

The male anchor glanced down at the manuscript in his hand.

"This new portable entertainment device, soon to be released by Sega Corporation, has sparked an amazing frenzy of trying it out during the spring break, thanks to its unique simultaneous multiplayer function and outstanding color graphics. According to our reporter, the daily number of people trying it out at authorized stores in the Tokyo area has exceeded 100,000."

The studio backdrop displayed video footage of Plants vs. Zombies.

The Sunflower shook its head, and the Buckethead Zombie moved forward step by step.

The comical actions made the female anchor burst out laughing while reading the narration.

At the dining table.

The middle school student, who was biting into a fried pork cutlet, immediately slammed his chopsticks onto the bowl.

"Mom! I'm not going to the park to see the flowers tomorrow."

The housewife took off her apron.

"What are you going to do? Go queue up to play this?" the housewife pointed at the TV screen.

"Everyone in my class is talking about it! Even the girl who didn't go to Akihabara yesterday said she wanted to see the Pokémon communication screen! I haven't even touched the game yet, so I won't be able to join in the conversation since school started!"

Similar scenes played out across Tokyo that night.

People who were originally completely uninterested in games were dragged into the center of this extremely widespread social buzz.