North American Mega Drive Price Cut (4,000 Words)

After returning to her apartment, Nakagawa Eri quickly changed into her casual clothes and went to her desk to turn on her computer.

Takuya and composed face, and the groundbreaking ideas he uttered, were still replaying in her mind.

With her fingers flying across the keyboard, Eri meticulously organized Takuya's narration into a detailed plan. The program would be called "Cooking Master Boy"—that's right, this name was also chosen by Takuya out of a mischievous sense of humor, a tribute to the work that brought China cuisine to the Japan public before the manga was even created.

As for the project "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire", Takuya suggested that Eri wait until "Cooking Master Boy" is successful before submitting it. After all, the pre-production work for that program is very complicated, the workload is huge, and a lot of resources and funds need to be mobilized. With her current qualifications, it is easy for her to run into difficulties in production.

The next day, Eri knocked directly on the door of her father's office, that of Nakagawa Jun, the director of TV Tokyo.

"Dad."

Nakagawa Jun, buried in a pile of documents, merely raised his eyelids slightly upon hearing this, pointed to the sofa opposite him, and gestured for her to sit down.

"What's the rush? Didn't I tell you to be responsible for your position at work?"

Eri placed the proposal, still warm from the printer, on the desk in front of him.

"Okay, Director. Here's a proposal for a new program, would you like to take a look?"

Nakagawa Jun picked it up somewhat nonchalantly.

As the station director, he has to review at least eight or ten project proposals every day, most of which are just old clichés, nothing new but the same old ideas.

However, after reading only the first page, the casual look on his face vanished.

He adjusted his glasses and unconsciously sat up straight.

The only sound in the office for a moment was the rustling of papers turning.

Eri sat upright, her palms slightly sweaty, a mixture of nervousness and inexplicable pride in her.

Finally, Nakagawa Jun put down the proposal and let out a long sigh of relief.

He didn't speak immediately, but instead took off his glasses and rubbed his temples with his fingers, seemingly processing the information he had just received.

"Cooperating with China's national television station to keep the cost per episode under five million Japanese yen, and then reselling in overseas markets with family-style tutorials to cultivate star housewives."

With each keyword he uttered, his gaze toward Eri grew increasingly strange.

"Did you really come up with this?" Nakagawa Jun's tone was scrutinizing.

He knew his daughter well; although she was outstanding, her shrewd, ruthless, and incisive business acumen was something that someone her age and experience could not possess.

Eri blushed slightly, but still nodded calmly, then shook her head.

"Takuya came up with the ideas and framework; I was responsible for organizing and refining them."

"Takuya?" Nakagawa Jun paused for a moment, then seemed to remember something. "You two are officially dating?"

"Mmm." Eri's cheeks flushed even more.

Nakagawa Jun fell silent. He picked up the proposal again, this time reading it more slowly and carefully. After a long while, he gently tapped the proposal on the table, making a dull sound.

"This kid's trying to steal housewives' wallets and remote controls too," he murmured, a sound that was hard to decipher—it was either admiration or a sigh of relief. "That's a truly brilliant idea."

He looked at his daughter. "Eri, you'll be in charge of this project."

Eri suddenly looked up.

"I'll assign you the most capable people from the production department," Nakagawa Jun said firmly. "I'll personally negotiate with the budget department. You assemble the production team immediately and give me a detailed preparation schedule by next week!"

He stood up, walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, and looked down at the Tokyo cityscape.

"This young man named Takuya is quite interesting," Nakagawa Jun said with a hint of amusement. "You should probably bring him home for dinner, so your mother and I can meet him."

"Hmm." Eri blushed, stuck out her little tongue, and left the station director's office.

In late September, Tokyo was already showing signs of autumn, but the Japan economic world was still buzzing with excitement.

On September 25, Sony officially announced that it had acquired Columbia Pictures, one of the eight major Hollywood studios, for a record-breaking US dollar 5 billion, in exchange for US dollar 3.4 billion in cash and US dollar 1.6 billion in debt.

The news caused a nationwide uproar.

However, on the other side of the ocean in the United States, the latest issue of Newsweek featured a cover where the Statue of Liberty holding a torch, as seen in the opening sequence of Columbia Pictures, was forcibly dressed in a kimono, resembling a geisha. The enormous headline beside it was glaringly obvious. "Japan Invades Hollywood."

The whole of Japan was still intoxicated by the Mew created by the bubble economy, basking in the glory of this deal to "buy the United States spirit," completely unaware that a huge crisis was quietly approaching.

After the stigma surrounding the Tsutomu Miyazaki Incident, the gaming industry has entered a rare period of calm. Major companies are focusing on game development, and marketing has become unusually low-key.

The air in the boardroom at Sega Headquarters was so heavy it seemed like you could wring water out of it.

The expensive mahogany table gleamed with a deep luster, reflecting the furrowed brows of every director present.

In the ashtray, several burnt-out cigarettes were piled up, silently telling the story of how long and agonizing the argument had been.

There was only one issue: a proposal from Tom Kalinske, the newly appointed president of the North America division.

"After a year and a half of production optimization, we finally managed to bring the cost of a Mega Drive console and a Tetris cartridge down to around US dollar 150. Now, Kalinske, the newly appointed president of North America, is asking for a price reduction right off the bat."

"He's slashed the price of the MD from US dollar 189 to US dollar 149! Is he crazy? This price is below our cost basis!"

The CFO's voice was somewhat shrill. He slammed his hand on the report in front of him, the paper rustling in protest.

"We're practically selling at cost! What about the profits for the third quarter? How are we going to explain this to our shareholders?"

"That's right! The home console business is the foundation of our company, and we absolutely cannot be so reckless. We were already selling at a loss for a while at the beginning, and now that we've finally managed to bring down costs, we're going to have to give up profits again? Doesn't Sega need to make money?!"

"However, North America has such strong consumer spending power, but its sales have consistently lagged behind Japan's. Kalinske's proposal, though radical, may be the key to breaking the deadlock."

Arguments, questions, and sighs mingled into a chaotic cacophony in the closed conference room.

However, in the heart of this bustling scene, Nakayama Takuya, who should have been the most active, was unusually silent.

He kept his head down, his fingers casually flipping through a report detailing Tom Kalinske's recent investments in several United States studios, a hint of approval even in his eyes.

It was as if this debate, which concerned the fate of the company, had nothing to do with him.

The report states that the newly appointed North America president Tom Kalinske, not only quickly stabilized the North American Branch but also made a forward-thinking investment in two studios with immense potential.

One is Broderhund, the developer of Prince of Persia, and the other is Westwood Studios, which just released Dungeons & Dragons on the Mega Drive.

Tom really hit the jackpot.

Nakayama Hayao sat in the main seat, his face ashen, his eyes sweeping over everyone's faces.

His gaze finally settled on his composed son.

The noise in the conference room gradually reached its peak, and then slowly subsided in a stalemate.

Nakayama Atsuo didn't speak, but simply shifted his gaze slightly, using a single look to draw everyone's attention to Takuya.

It was like a silent command.

Noticing his father's and the others' gazes, Takuya sighed inwardly.

He put down the report in his hand and coughed lightly.

All the directors in the conference room turned to look at him instantly, and the discussion came to an abrupt halt.

"Everyone, I've been listening for a while now, and it seems like everyone's worried that lowering prices will lead to losses." Takuya's voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly to everyone's ears. "Before discussing price reductions, I'd like to show you something."

Instead of picking up the financial statements, he picked up the latest Newsweek United States.

On the cover, a white female model is dressed as a Japan geisha, heavily made up, with a stiff smile.

The title was written in large, blood-red letters.

"Japan invades Hollywood."

Takuya slowly read the words aloud, then placed the magazine on the table and pushed it toward everyone.

"I think everyone here knows better than I what the Sony acquisition of Columbia Pictures has caused in the United States."

The board members exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from confusion to seriousness.

They hadn't expected Takuya to come from this angle.

"Currently, the United States public has a very negative view of Japan companies, believing that our industrial goods have reduced their factory operating rates, taken away their jobs, and now they've bought up their 'cultural symbols.' A boycott of Japanese goods is spreading among the United States public."

Takuya's gaze swept across the entire room, and his voice suddenly rose.

"Therefore, this price reduction is not just about competing with Nintendo commercially, but also a gesture! A gesture to break down the adversarial atmosphere and show friendliness to United States consumers!"

"We need to tell them that Sega isn't a greedy invader, but a friend who's here to bring them joy. Other industrial products are one thing; we're game consoles, not something the United States manufactures, and we won't take away their jobs. Our price reductions are saving them money, which only benefits them."

This unexpected perspective instantly elevated the entire discussion to a whole new level.

Takuya abruptly changed the subject, and a chilling sense of reality washed over him.

"In addition, I have received news that Nintendo has completed the custom CPU development for their next-generation console, the Super Famicom."

"The window of opportunity we have left is only about a year at most."

"Is it really that you guys aren't planning to do anything, just sit back and watch Nintendo's next-generation console launch? What will we lose then?"

These words struck like a heavy hammer blow to everyone's heart.

Takuya's eyes sharpened as he deliberately evoked the most painful memories that everyone present didn't want to recall.

"Everyone, do you remember how our SG-1000 struggled against the terrifying ten million units of the FC back then?"

"Have you all forgotten that feeling of powerlessness, that despair of the market remaining indifferent no matter how good our games are?"

On the faces of some of the veteran directors, expressions of humiliation and resentment had already appeared.

"This time," Takuya's voice carried a chilling ruthlessness, "We'll make Nintendo, and the Super Famicom, taste what it's like to be suffocated by a massive existing market!"

The flames of revenge were reignited in everyone's eyes.

Seeing that the atmosphere had been built up, Takuya finally prepared to play his trump card.

"Thanks to our efforts, we obtained the SFC design specifications."

"In terms of image processing, they utilize dual PPUs for collaborative processing, supporting 32,768 colors, or 256 colors on screen simultaneously, and can display thousands of colors through dynamic color palette technology."

"While their images do indeed have richer color representation than ours, they have a fatal weakness."

Takuya paused.

Their CPUs can't handle fast-paced, scrolling games.

"And the game we're developing is a 'technical suppression' software specifically designed for the Super Famicom."

"Sonic the Hedgehog."

"This is a game that pushes the concept of 'speed' in the Mega Drive's capabilities to the extreme, a game whose gameplay cannot be replicated by Nintendo."

Takuya integrated all the arguments together, like a general deploying the final offensive on a sand table.

"My plan is simple: a combination of strategies."

"Next month, Sonic the Hedgehog will be completed and released immediately."

"At the same time, the MD price was reduced to US dollar 149, and a limited edition of the Sonic the Hedgehog was launched as a bundle!"

"The price reduction is intended to boost the number of Mega Drive (MD) units to an unprecedented level in the shortest possible time, creating a sufficiently wide competitive advantage for us before the Super Famicom (SFC) launch."

"And Sonic the Hedgehog is the technological obstacle we created for Nintendo! It will become a technological benchmark, a 'must-play' for all players!"

"Once a North America player already owns our Mega Drive and has experienced the high-speed thrill of Sonic, when they wait for the Super Famicom..."

When it's released, he'll hesitate and think, "Do I really need to spend a few hundred US dollar to buy a second 16-bit console?"

"The more dominant our console holdings are in North America, the more difficult it will be for Nintendo."

Takuya stood up, placed his hands on the conference table, and leaned forward slightly.

"What we need to do is to completely uproot Nintendo's very foundation, bit by bit!"

"The premiums will help us recoup these losses in the future."

After he finished speaking, Nakayama Hayao looked around and saw the fighting spirit in everyone's eyes. He knew that the time had come.

He tapped the table lightly.

"Alright, since everyone's opinions are converging, let's not waste any more time."

"Then, let's vote."

Brush!

Almost without hesitation, arms were raised.

It passed unanimously.

President Nakayama looked at Takuya with an unprecedented level of trust and reliance in his eyes.

"Takuya, you'll be in charge of liaising with Tom Kalinske at the United States branch on this plan."

Takuya nodded slightly, and the board meeting came to an end.