The truth revealed

The next morning.

After listening to Kobayashi's report, Sato slammed his hand on the desk.

"So that's how it is!"

Sato grabbed the reports from the table and stormed into Nakagawa Jun's office.

After listening to Sato's analysis, Nakagawa Jun's face showed a look of understanding.

"A crowd gathered to watch. That explains it." Nakagawa Jun took out a cigar and lit it.

The households sampled for Japan TV ratings were all ordinary families.

Dozens of people are crammed into an izakaya (Japanese pub) to watch the same television, but the ratings only count as one viewing device.

This is the root cause of the severe discrepancy between data and feedback.

"Director, this shows that the show's influence is far greater than the ratings suggest!" Sato exclaimed excitedly. "This kind of collective emotional resonance spreads extremely quickly!"

Nakagawa Jun took a puff of his cigar and exhaled a grayish-white smoke.

"Talk is cheap. What Kobayashi saw was only the situation at one store. To convince those advertisers to continue spending money, we need more comprehensive data."

Nakagawa Jun gave the order directly.

"Immediately draw personnel from all departments and form several temporary investigation teams. Tonight, send them all out to Shinbashi, Shinjuku, Shibuya, Ueno —all the izakaya districts frequented by white-collar workers and low-level employees—go door-to-door to investigate. I need to know exactly how many establishments in TV Tokyo have been involved in such activities!"

At 11:20 PM, under the elevated bridge at Shimbashi Station.

Sato personally led the team, accompanied by two assistants, into the "Bird Heart" izakaya.

As soon as I pushed open the door, a wave of heat and noise hit me.

There are no seats left.

At a large table in the corner, Takahashi and Yamamoto were having a lively discussion with several other employees they didn't know.

In the next booth, Watanabe, a burly Yakuza Watanabe with four henchmen, threw his coat aside and was banging on the table, urging the owner to bring out the drinks.

Sato found a spot near the door, took out his notebook and pen, and began to record the number of people in the store and the channels on the TV screen.

An assistant leaned closer to Sato.

"Section Chief, we've visited eight shops on this street. Six of them are showing our show. The remaining two are food stalls, they don't have TVs."

Sato nodded in satisfaction and was about to put the notebook away.

A thick arm suddenly slung over Sato's shoulder.

The force was immense, causing Sato's shoulders to sink.

"Hey! You in the suit."

The rough Kansai boomed in my ears.

Sato's heart tightened, and he turned his head.

Watanabe walked over at some point, a half-smoked cigarette between his teeth, and looked Sato up and down.

"Walks in without ordering drinks, doesn't look for a seat. Just pulls out a notebook and starts scribbling." Watanabe leaned closer. "National Police Agency report? Or is it from the Ministry of Finance checking the accounts?"

Several henchmen immediately surrounded them.

Takahashi and Yamamoto also stopped drinking and turned to watch the show.

The izakaya fell silent instantly.

The assistant was so startled that she took half a step back.

Having been in the corporate world for many years, Sato immediately put on a smiling face and held up his notebook.

"Sir, you've misunderstood. We're not from the government. We're investigators from TV Tokyo, here to gauge viewership of 'Yes, Minister.'"

Watanabe paused for a moment upon hearing the words "TV Tokyo".

Then, Watanabe ripped the cigarette out of his mouth and patted Sato hard on the shoulder twice.

"TV Tokyo? You should have said so earlier!"

The henchmen surrounding them immediately dispersed, their fierce expressions completely disappearing.

Watanabe grabbed Sato's arm and dragged him to his booth, pressing him down into a chair.

"Boss! Three more glasses! Pour the drinks!" Watanabe yelled at the top of his lungs.

Sato tried to refuse, but a full glass of Sapporo Beer was already shoved in front of him.

"Drink!" Watanabe picked up his large mug of beer.

Having no other choice, Sato could only pick up the cup and take a big gulp.

Watanabe plopped down opposite him and pointed at the television on the wall.

"Your station did a great job this time! I watch this show every day! It's just my cup of tea!"

Watanabe, reeking of alcohol, slammed his fist on the table with a deafening roar.

"You've stripped these bureaucrats bare, leaving them with nothing but their underwear. During the day, I get lectured like a grandson by those guys in the Metropolitan Police Department, and at night I watch them make a fool of themselves on this show. It's awesome!"

Takahashi was at the next table, also came over with a cup in his hand.

"TV Tokyo guys, you guys are really something. You even dared to include a scandal from the Ministry of Finance in the trailer. Our company's Legal Department..."

People were talking about it today, saying whether your station manager is planning to quit and run away after this one big job.

A burst of laughter erupted in the izakaya.

Sato touched his nose and then laughed.

"If people enjoy watching it, our station has the confidence to continue broadcasting it. This is our duty as media."

Watanabe poured Sato another full glass of wine.

"However, I have to give you some advice!" Watanabe held up a short, thick finger.

Sato immediately adopted a listening posture and gestured for his assistant to take out a notebook to write it down.

"First!" Watanabe shouted, "One episode a day isn't enough! This show is too short; the ending theme starts playing right away when we're getting into it. Can't you guys show two episodes a day?"

"Exactly! At least two episodes back-to-back!" Takahashi chimed in.

"Second!" Watanabe slammed his fist on the table. "I have no problem with those corporate ads inserted in the middle of the show; you guys need to make money too. But!"

Don't cut the ad during the crucial lines! Last night, Humphrey was about to pull a dirty trick and cut straight to a tax company ad. I almost smashed a bottle at the TV!

Sato nodded repeatedly.

"My brother's suggestions are very insightful. I will definitely report them to the station when I get back and optimize the ad insertion points."

Watanabe grinned, revealing his gold teeth.

At that moment, the theme song from the television began to play.

Watanabe immediately waved his hand.

"Alright, enough chit-chat, let's get started. TV Tokyo guys, this drink's on me! Drink as much as you want, and enjoy the show!"

Sato held his sake glass, watching dozens of people in the izakaya intently watching the television, and his confidence was completely restored.

This is not just a matter of ratings anymore.

TV Tokyo's late-night programming has become a spiritual refuge for all of Japan's wage slaves and the lower classes.

As long as this group continues to gather at izakayas every night to drink and rant against bureaucrats, no one can shake this core group.

Sato downed his beer in one gulp, pulled out his notebook, and heavily checked the name of the "Bird Heart" izakaya.

Flights landing at Narita Airport taxi to their parking positions.

Hatano walked out of the passage, her eyes bloodshot.

I spent two whole weeks in the Tijuana factory, and the pungent smell of plastic and the roar of the stamping machines still echoed in my ears.

He slept for over ten hours in his hotel room, carefully adjusting to the time difference, changed into a clean suit, and headed straight for Sega Headquarters.

In a small conference room on the nineteenth floor, the tea had just been brewed.

Terauchi was already seated on the right side of the long table, flipping through the schedules of several OEM factories in East Asia.

Hatano pushed open the door, pulled out a chair opposite him, sat down, and casually tossed a thick report onto the table.

"Good morning, Terauchi."

"Hatano looks good; the Mexico sun is quite nourishing." Terauchi closed the report in his hand, his tone indifferent.

"Don't give me that." Hatano unbuttoned his suit jacket, grabbed a teacup from the table, and gulped down a large mouthful of warm water. "Those workers in Tijuana, if you paid them by piece, they'd lead a union and block the factory gates. They can't even maintain an 85% yield rate for fine-fitting products. After half an hour of idling, the scrap material is piled higher than a person."

Terauchi leaned back in its chair. "So, how do you plan to deliver the 800,000 Electronic Pet you boasted about on the phone?"

Both men had worked at Sega for many years, and their rivalry in the supply chain, one in the east and one in the west, had been ongoing for some time.

Terauchi controls the core businesses in Shenzhen and Japan, while Hatano focuses on localized OEM manufacturing in North America.

"We're not going to push through anymore." Hatano leaned forward, his fingers tapping the report. "Stop all 59 high-precision assembly lines in Mexico."

Terauchi raised an eyebrow. "Stop? Then what will North America use to deliver the goods?"

"We'll switch to a pure packaging and shell OEM factory." Hatano said bluntly, "Motherboard surface mount technology, LCD module packaging, and core component programming will all be shipped from East Asia. Tijuana will only be responsible for injection molding the shell, assembling it, screwing it in, affixing anti-counterfeiting labels, stuffing the instruction manuals, and packing it. Even an idiot could do this job. If the yield rate drops any further, I'll just replace those factory managers."

The Terauchi picked up the report and flipped through two pages.

"The idea is good. But by doing this, you're essentially shifting all the pressure onto East Asia." Terauchi put down the report and tapped his knuckles on the cover. "The production lines in Shenzhen are already working around the clock in two shifts to meet the demand for the GP2's initial release cartridges and consoles. How am I supposed to squeeze in hundreds of thousands more sets of semi-finished Electronic Pet modules?"

"We have to squeeze it out, even if we can't." Hatano refused to budge. "We can easily free up a few lines for ordinary peripherals and plastic cartridge cases, which don't usually have tight deadlines. Even Sega's regular toy manufacturing orders can be moved to other places. As long as there's a blockbuster like GP2 or Pokémon that experiences a short-term surge in demand, East Asia must have a flexible manufacturing pool to fill the gap."

Terauchi sneered, "Hatano, all this temporary factory contracting, temporary hiring of skilled workers, and temporary mold making in East Asia requires real money. You dump all the most profitable, high-value-added parts on me, Mexico only does the bare minimums like cleaning up and packing boxes. In the end, the North America sales figures are credited to you, while all the costs are listed on my East Asia Division's books?"

The meeting room door was then pushed open.

Nakayama Takuya stepped in.

He was wearing a dark gray suit jacket, no tie, and holding two printed North America order forms.

The argument inside the room stopped instantly.

"President." The two stood up at the same time.

Nakayama Takuya waved his hand, pulled out the chair in the main seat and sat down, casually tossing the order form in his hand between the two of them.

"Sit."

Nakayama Takuya picked up the Mark his assistant had just brought in, took a sip of coffee, and said, "Keep making noise. I can hear the abacus beads rattling all the way down the hallway."

Hatano sat up straight and spoke up, "President, the actual situation in Mexico is a quagmire. The workforce and equipment infrastructure aren't up to par. If we force a full-process outsourcing, the initial launch will definitely be a disaster. Switching to secondary assembly and rebranding is the only way to ensure on-time delivery."

He knew very well that Nakayama Takuya had just acquired Bandai and Sotsu, and his prestige on the board of directors had reached its peak.

North America is Sega's largest market. If supply disruptions cause empty shelves at key retailers like Best Buy and Walmart, Nakayama Takuya will not consider anyone's feelings.

If it really comes to that, replacing him as the North America supply chain director is just a matter of a single word.

Terauchi echoed, "President, I don't object to supporting North America. However, temporarily allocating East Asia's production capacity would cause too much cost fluctuation. If the semi-finished products shipped from East Asia to Mexico are settled at the internal cooperation price, the East Asia Division's financial statements will look extremely bad, and the contract manufacturers will also complain."

The crux of the problem has been revealed.

Benefit.

Hatano wants to maintain its supply to North America, but it can't let procurement costs eat up all the profits of the North America division; Terauchi is willing to supply, but it definitely doesn't want to be the scapegoat.

Nakayama Takuya interlaced his fingers and rested them on the edge of the conference table.

"Hatano's plan is correct," Nakayama Takuya said, his tone steady. "The efficiency of those Mexico workers can't be recovered in a short time. Moving the production capacity of core precision components back to East Asia, leaving only assembly and packaging, is the optimal solution to minimize losses."

Hatano secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

"But," Nakayama Takuya looked at Terauchi, "the East Asia supply chain is the heart of Sega's global system. There's no other place in the world that can triple its production capacity within 48 hours of receiving an order. Terauchi's trump card is Sega's confidence to go head-to-head with Nintendo and Sony. This confidence cannot be crippled by internal strife."

The Terauchi immediately sat up straighter.

"The rules are set in stone." Nakayama Takuya tapped the table. "The East Asia division will temporarily increase production capacity to supply semi-finished products to the Mexico factory, with prices following the standard North America pricing. Any additional expedited fees and temporary factory rental costs will be entirely covered by the Global Supply Chain Coordination Fund, guaranteed by the headquarters Finance Department, and will not affect the East Asia Division's performance."

The tension that had been hanging over me at the Terauchi eased, and I quickly jotted down a note in my notebook.

"As for Hatano," Nakayama Takuya turned to look at him, "the North America branch must ensure that this shipment is available in major supermarkets across the United States by mid-April. I don't care what methods you use, the Tijuana packaging line must operate 24/7. Once the goods arrive in Mexico, they must clear customs and enter Walmart's distribution center within three days. Can you do that?"

Hatano 'East Asia apple bobbed, and he puffed out his chest. "Sure! As long as the semi-finished products from East Asia arrive on time, anyone on the Mexico side who dares to mess things up will be fired on the spot!"

"Words are no proof." Nakayama Takuya pulled a new agreement from his folder and pushed it in front of the two men. "Sign it. East Asia will be responsible for ensuring the quality and quantity of materials, and Mexico will be responsible for assembly and customs clearance. If we win this battle, GP2 will break records in its North America debut, and you'll definitely get a share of the year-end bonus."

Hatano picked up a pen and signed his name at the end of both agreements.

Terauchi followed suit, the two Parker gold pens tapping dully on the table.

The signing was completed, and the work at the North America OEM factory was reduced to pure assembly. The feeling of being sidelined and stifled in Hatano's heart had not completely dissipated.

The high-value-added products all went to East Asia, North America branch ultimately relinquished some of its control over the manufacturing end in this round of competition.