The First Signs of the Super Famicom

Kyoto, Nintendo Headquarters.

The excitement that permeated Sega Headquarters transformed into a suffocatingly low atmosphere here.

After Nintendo adopted a cold-blooded approach towards Game Boy, Yokoi Gunpei's days became increasingly difficult.

The large office of GAMEBOY's Development Department is now deserted, with only a few people remaining.

Most of the developers, along with the equipment, were directly transferred to the SFC's mainframe Development Headquarters.

Yokoi Gunpei, the head of the Development Department, is now more like a figurehead, spending his days organizing trivial documents and staring out the window in a daze.

The young men who used to surround him and address him as "Mr. Yokoi" now only give a quick bow and avoid eye contact when they meet in the corridor, as if they are afraid of getting involved with him and jeopardizing their future in the SFC project.

The identity of a loser is an invisible mark.

This entire scene was witnessed by Ken Kutaragi.

As Sony's technical representative, he has been frequently visiting Nintendo Headquarters recently to discuss the compatibility of the Super Famicom (SFC) sound chip.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Yokoi." Ken Kutaragi encountered the dejected Yokoi Gunpei in the corridor, a professional smile on his face, and gave a slight bow.

"Ah, it's Mr. Kutaragi." Yokoi Gunpei forced a smile in response.

As they brushed past each other, a glint of shrewdness flashed in Ken Kutaragi's eyes behind his glasses.

He could see that a sense of resentment was quietly brewing within the building.

Those engineers who were "assigned" from the GAMEBOY project team to the SFC project team were the best entry point.

Infighting in the Japan workplace is most likely to occur during periods of high staff turnover within a department.

Newcomers are marginalized, and past achievements are forgotten. The resentment of those who feel their talents are not being recognized is the best fuel for defection.

After several "chance" lunches and "coincidental" encounters in the smoking room, Ken Kutaragi and several of his Sony engineers quickly became acquainted with several former members of the Game Boy development team.

After a few rounds of drinks, a few compliments like "Your skills are so amazing, it's a waste of your talents to work on Game Boy" and a few complaints like "That's just how President Yamauchi is, he turns his back on people as soon as a project fails" easily broke down their defenses.

A napkin covered with key parameters was quietly slipped into Ken Kutaragi's briefcase.

Back at the hotel, Ken Kutaragi unfolded the crumpled napkin, his eyes burning with intensity.

"Dual PPU architecture... coprocessor...2Mbit memory... four times the number of colors as MD!"

Sony's technicians gathered around the table, their eyes intently studying the configuration list.

They had already thoroughly studied the configuration of the MD, and by 1989, it was already somewhat inadequate.

Nintendo designed a truly luxurious configuration for the Super Famicom (SFC), aiming to completely dominate the Mega Drive (MD).

"Those old guys at Nintendo have really gone all out."

"A Sony engineer remarked."

"The frame is strong enough."

Ken Kutaragi tapped his finger on the configuration list, then frowned again. "But where is our 'soul'?"

Hardware specifications are easy to copy, but the system architecture and development environment that support a host computer are the real core secrets.

These things are firmly in the hands of Nintendo veterans Masayuki Uemura and Genyo Takeda, and are not something that a few disillusioned junior engineers could access.

Sony's subsequent indirect inquiries quickly aroused suspicion.

President's Office.

"President, people from Sony have been asking too many questions lately." Genyo Takeda stood in front of his desk, his expression serious. "They've shown an abnormal interest in the system's underlying mechanisms."

Yamauchi Haku gloomy, and his fingers tapped the table repeatedly, making a dull sound.

He knew, of course, that Sony was dishonest, but he was frustrated by the lack of direct evidence.

Kick Sony out?

The thought flashed through Yamauchi Haku's mind, but he immediately dismissed it.

Putting aside the trouble that a complete falling out with a giant like Sony would bring, the development progress of the Super Famicom would be fatally affected.

Nintendo is indeed very powerful in game software, but in pure hardware development, it simply cannot function without Sony's support.

He needs Sony's support to create a perfect console that can crush the Mega Drive and wash away the shame brought by the Mega Drive and Game Boy.

But this hungry wolf, while helping you hunt, is also with the child in your arms.

"Let them continue." Yamauchi Haku's voice was dry and cold, as if squeezed out from between his teeth.

"President?" Genyo Takeda was somewhat surprised.

Yamauchi Haku slowly raised his head, his eyes filled with suppressed anger and an almost cruel determination.

"Keep a close eye on them, don't let them touch the core. We'll have to keep this dog around until SFC is finished."

While Nintendo and Sony were engaged in a power struggle, GamePocket's latest sales report was on his desk, and the numbers on it had completely crushed GameBoy.

Sega has firmly grasped the destiny of this Super Robot Wars.

"The Marketing Department and Sales Department can proceed with the subsequent sales and promotion work according to plan," Nakayama Takuya said to his secretary, closing the report in a relaxed tone.

With the overall situation settled, he could finally extricate himself from these business infighting efforts.

We poured all our energy into developing the My Totoro game.

Studio Ghibli.

Nakayama Takuya sat somewhat nervously opposite Miyazaki Hayao. Between them lay a thick game design draft, the third version he had revised repeatedly after many days of seclusion.

Miyazaki Hayao didn't speak, but simply turned the pages one by one, wearing his reading glasses. The cigarette between his fingers emitted wisps of smoke, blurring his wrinkled face.

Suzuki Toshio, who was standing to the side, was holding a teacup and wanted to speak up to ease the atmosphere, but was glared at by Miyazaki Hayao.

"Wipe the dust off Kshitigarbha Bodhisattva, and on the next rainy day, the lotus leaf above his head will shelter you from the rain." Miyazaki Hayao finally spoke, his voice hoarse, as he tapped the illustration on the design draft with his knuckles. "This idea is excellent."

Takuya felt happy.

"After rescuing the stranded tadpoles by the river, a smooth pebble will appear at your doorstep the next day." Miyazaki Hayao continued reading, then abruptly changed the subject and pushed the manuscript onto the table.

"But don't you think this looks too much like a transaction?"

Takuya's smile froze.

"I do things for you, and you give me something in return. That's the logic of the adult world, not children's." Miyazaki Hayao took off his glasses, his gaze sharp as he stared at him. "Children's kindness is selfless. They wipe away the dust simply because they feel the Buddha statue is dirty and uncomfortable to look at. They rescue the tadpoles simply because they feel sorry for the little lives. It's that simple."

"And here," he pointed to another page, "To make the little girl discover the secrets deep in the forest, you designed it so she would chase after a hat blown away by the wind. Too contrived, too artificial!"

Why can't it be that she simply wanted to explore the forest? Or just to pick a wildflower she'd never seen before? The story should grow from the characters' hearts, not be led by the nose by your "quest line"!

A barrage of questions left Nakayama Takuya speechless.

The first two times, Miyazaki Hayao's comments were relatively mild. This time, however, his design was almost completely torn apart.

Suzuki Toshio, who was standing nearby, couldn't stand it anymore and tried to smooth things over. "Mr. Miyazaki, Takuya- kun is making this type of game for the first time, after all, he..."

"Shut up, Suzuki!" Miyazaki Hayao interrupted him rudely. "I only have high expectations for him because I believe he has the talent! If it were anyone else, I wouldn't even bother watching!"

After scolding him, he turned to look at Takuya, his tone softening slightly. "The inspiration you got from your grandmother's house in the countryside, those legends about fox Inari, are all good. The roots are good, but the branches and leaves you've grown are too eager for quick success."

Nakayama Takuya took a deep breath. Instead of feeling discouraged, he felt a sense of clarity, as if the clouds had parted and the sun was shining through.

He understood.

He has been using the mindset of a "game designer" to build a "reward and feedback" system.

Cleaning the Ksitigarbha statue and rescuing tadpoles are essentially no different from the "monster-hunting" and "task-completion" activities he did in his previous life.

But what Miyazaki Hayao wanted was not a system.

What he wanted was a world.

A world where players can forget they are "playing a game".

"I understand, Director Miyazaki." Nakayama Takuya bowed deeply. "I was wrong. Thank you for your guidance."

Seeing the confusion in the young man's eyes vanish and be replaced by a clear understanding, Miyazaki Hayao's usually serious face revealed a rare, almost imperceptible smile.

He picked up the manuscript again and tossed it back to Takuya.

"Go back and revise it. Show it to me only when it's revised to the point where I feel it's not a game, but a childhood story that happened around me."

Stepping out of Ghibli, the sunlight was a bit dazzling.

Nakayama Takuya stood by the roadside, watching the children chasing and playing in the park not far away, Miyazaki Hayao's words echoing repeatedly in his mind.

"Not a deal-"

"Growing from the hearts of the characters--"

He suddenly smiled.

He took out his notebook and wrote a few words forcefully on a brand new page.

Delete all "Tasks" and "Rewards".

Only "encounters" and "feelings" remain.