Shortcoming

The board meeting had just ended, Hattori, holding the gold-embossed authorization document, couldn't hide his radiant glow.

He strode over to Takuya, patted him hard on the shoulder, his voice full of high spirits as he prepared to unleash his full potential.

"General Manager Nakayama, I'll go to Sunrise Animation right away to discuss the specific acquisition price and details!"

His voice was filled with the high spirits of someone about to make a name for themselves and head towards the next peak in their career.

Takuya smiled and nodded, watching Hattori's retreating figure as he practically ran towards the elevator.

He had just returned to his office when there was a gentle knock on the door. His assistant walked in carrying a stack of things, his face also beaming with joy.

The assistant carefully held two brand-new MD cartridges and a huge box with the Sony logo on it.

"Manager Nakayama, all development work on the <DDR> home version and <Phantasy Star> is complete, and the production line is ready to begin mass production at any time!"

This marked the first wave of games released after the Mega Drive's launch, and with that, the development phase was completely finished.

In Takuya's office, he personally connected the huge LD player peripheral to the MD host, then laid out the dance mat specially made for home use on the smooth floor and pressed the power button.

The familiar melody of "Dancing Hero" began to play, and the office was instantly filled with its energetic beat.

Takuya took off his suit jacket, loosened his tie, stepped onto the dance mat, and casually tapped a few beats.

Aside from failing to recreate the ear-piercing volume and dazzling lighting effects of the arcade, the entire gaming experience almost perfectly replicates the soul of the arcade version.

He nodded in satisfaction.

He picked up the phone and connected with the Production Department.

"DDR Home Edition, production of the 'Champion, Runner-up, and Third Place Limited Edition' has commenced."

"It will be released on time as planned."

"Subsequent standard versions will strictly adhere to a model combining small-batch distribution with pre-orders."

After hanging up the phone, he turned his gaze to another cassette tape on the table— Phantasy Star.

He unplugged the DDR LaserDisc player and inserted another cassette into the MD player.

The screen lights up, and against a deep cosmic background, the artistic font of "PhantasyStar" appears, exuding a sci-fi feel.

The opening animation is absolutely stunning.

The power of Sega's hardware was on full display at this moment.

The spaceship cuts through the sea of stars, revealing a magnificent and breathtaking alien landscape.

Takuya gripped the controller with a hint of anticipation on his face.

The combat system is exhilarating, and the numerical balance is quite solid.

However, as the plot progressed, and as one dialog box after another popped up, and as the main characters began to interact in order to advance the story, Takuya's expectant expression slowly turned into a helpless smile.

He could almost see Sega's brilliant engineers, working tirelessly in front of their computers all night long, working on an algorithm or a special effect. They were the best craftsmen, but not the best poets.

The game's plot progression and character dialogue still carry an undeniable sense of awkwardness.

The characters' emotional shifts lack build-up, the dialogue is so straightforward it's utterly unappealing, not to mention the melodramatic plot points that players could empathize with or even enjoy.

This is a technically impeccable and excellent work.

But for RPG players whose tastes have been spoiled by Final Fantasy, merely being excellent is almost synonymous with mediocrity.

Takuya slowed his fingers on the controller; he didn't continue playing.

Forcibly praising a game's storyline will only make players feel more disgusted after experiencing it.

He picked up the internal phone and connected to the Marketing Department.

"The promotional strategy for <Phantasy Star> should be adjusted immediately."

The voice of the Marketing Department manager, respectful yet slightly puzzled, came from the other end of the phone.

Takuya's instructions were clear and decisive.

"Abandon all promotional materials regarding the plot and world-building."

"From now on, focus all publicity resources on one point."

"The industry's first RPG masterpiece featuring a female protagonist."

"Use the boldest and most avant-garde labels to attract everyone's attention."

After hanging up, he immediately dialed the production line manager.

"The initial stock order for <Phantasy Star> is strictly controlled to be within 70% of the minimum estimated sales volume."

"I want to create an atmosphere of 'limited stock' in the market."

He explained over the phone.

"This protects us from the risk of inventory buildup and maximizes the market value of our products even if word-of-mouth doesn't spread virally."

Fast forward to June.

Tokyo's rainy season, the humid air seems to shroud the city in a layer of moisture.

Two completely different sales reports were neatly placed on Nakayama Takuya's desk.

The result completely confirmed his initial prediction.

The expensive DDR limited edition sold out immediately upon release in North America, the United Kingdom, and Spain.

It quickly became the most popular status symbol among wealthy gamers when hosting family parties, and its social attributes generated even more buzz than the game itself.

Subsequent pre-orders for the regular version, however, were like a gentle stream, stable but not overwhelming.

The "small batch + pre-order" strategy perfectly avoids any risk of hardware inventory buildup.

The other report belongs to Phantasy Star.

The market feedback curve resembles a steep mountain peak.

With its striking "first female protagonist" and the excellent technical performance delivered by Sega hardware, the game achieved considerable sales in its first week of release.

However, the hype faded just as quickly.

A week later, sales plummeted, showing a severe lack of staying power.

Player feedback was remarkably consistent. "The system is great, and the combat is pretty good, but the story is completely unengaging."

Ultimately, it failed to generate sustained buzz.

Takuya leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.

It seems that there were no problems with the release, and the risks were controlled.

But this is only a temporary solution, not a cure.

He gently pushed aside the game architecture design draft for "My Totoro" that he had just begun to see some progress.

A more important and fundamental question has been placed before him.

We must infuse Sega's development team with the "soul of a story."

The necessity and urgency of the "Children of the Star Ring," which had just been established at the board meeting, were magnified infinitely at this moment.

Phantasy Star can't be considered Sega's flagship RPG yet, since it wasn't until Phantasy Star IV: The Millennium End in 1993 that it truly became Phantasy Star's Sega RPG.

How can we find an RPG brand for Sega's headquarters development team, while also mentoring these stereotypical straight men?

Takuya fell into deep thought.