Hideo Kojima X Clear and Present Danger

After the solemn and tedious closing ceremony, Nakayama Takuya felt as if he had just fought a tough battle, and his muscles were stiff all over.

The formal wedding is scheduled for the second half of the year, and the shrine reservation has been booked for almost six months.

The next day, Takuya declined his mother's suggestion to "go and check out the wedding venue again" and slipped back to the company as if his feet were greased.

For him, the development team was more reassuring than dealing with those perfunctory formalities.

The first place he inspected was the MD-compatible computer kit jointly developed by the Hardware Development Department and the Computer Software Department.

During the time when he was overwhelmed with the preparations for his engagement, the development team he had assembled, consisting of Nakamura Head Nakamura and Team Leader Nohara, was surprisingly efficient.

The Marketing Department's survey report on mainstream floppy disk drives and printers on the market has just been released, and they have already contacted several target manufacturers and started preliminary adaptation work.

The laboratory, jointly applied for by the two departments, is currently a scene of bustling activity.

Several engineers were gathered around a lab bench. A strangely shaped gray engineering cartridge with a thick parallel cable trailing from its rear was inserted into the cartridge slot of a black MegaDrive.

The keyboard was already connected, and the other end of the parallel cable was connected to a currently popular inkjet printer—a Canon BJ-8.

0.

"Executive!"

Nakamura Head Nakamura, with his sharp eyes, was the first to spot Takuya at the door. He quickly came to greet him, his face showing a hint of exhaustion from the project, but his eyes were bright.

Congratulations, Executive Director!

"Thank you both," Takuya said with a smile, patting his shoulder. His gaze was already fixed on the printer that was making a soft, whirring sound. "How's it going? Can our 'learning machine' print anything?"

"See for yourself." Team Leader Nohara squeezed out of the crowd and pointed to the printer.

The printer's inkjet head was moving left and right, making a soft, rhythmic sound. A sheet of A4 paper was slowly "spit out," with several lines of English text clearly printed on it.

[Sega Genesis is not only a toy.]

[Itisaninvestmentforyourchild'sfuture.]

Takuya picked up the still-warm paper and rubbed the writing on it with his finger. The ink was even and the writing was clear.

He nodded in satisfaction.

"Well done."

This simple compliment brought smiles to the faces of all the engineers present.

When this project first started, everyone thought it was a pipe dream—using game consoles for office work?

But when they actually realized all of this, and then applied such functionality to the home scenarios that Takuya had previously envisioned, it didn't seem so unacceptable.

"How much storage space does the driver occupy?" Takuya turned to look at Nohara.

"It's been compressed to the limit," Team Leader Nohara replied immediately. "To fit in the driver and a simple editor, we've completely cut out the interface enhancement features. This software, while a bit rudimentary, is absolutely practical."

"A simpler style is fine," Takuya handed the paper to Nakamura, "What we need isn't something fancy, but something 'useful.' Something that will make an United States housewife's eyes light up when she sees it at Walmart, thinking, 'Oh, this is nice, I won't regret buying it.'"

He paused, then continued issuing instructions, "The list of compatible brands and models selected by the Marketing Department needs to be further streamlined. We don't need to be compatible with all devices; we only need to target the best-selling, most popular products best suited for home use. Optimize the drivers to ensure that users can buy them, plug them in, and use them immediately without any extra steps."

"Understood!" Nakamura and Nohara replied in unison.

Then he went to the Arcade Division and saw that the development of Hook was fully underway and progressing well.

The development team was enthusiastic; after all, this was a blockbuster adaptation produced by Spielberg, something to be proud of.

Takuya offered a few words of encouragement without further disturbing the conversation, then turned and walked away to another place.

He was going to see Hideo Kojima.

At this moment, Hideo Kojima is in the private audit room that the company has arranged for him.

Although it's called an auditing room, it's more like a small warehouse, with shelves on all four walls piled high with game cartridges from third parties and internally initiated projects.

When Takuya pushed open the door, Hideo Kojima was wearing headphones and staring blankly at the screen.

On the screen, a crudely made pixelated figure is jumping around illogically, accompanied by jarring 8-bit noise as background music. "Bang!"

The little figure on the screen crashed into the wall and died. Hideo Kojima took off his headphones, sighed deeply, and casually drew a big X on the evaluation form in front of him.

He turned his head and saw Takuya standing at the door.

"Executive Director?" Hideo Kojima was somewhat surprised and quickly stood up.

"Sit down, don't be shy." Takuya waved his hand with a smile, casually pulled a cassette tape from the shelf, looked at it, and then put it back. "So, Kojima- san, have you found any hidden gems in this vast ocean of cassette tapes?"

Hideo Kojima's lips twitched, revealing a wry smile, "We didn't see the hidden gem, but we've gotten to the point of 'pixel-like eyes' by now. Executive Director..."

Do these cookie-cutter imitations really need to be reviewed? I feel like my inspiration is being slowly worn away by this garbage.

Since completing the development of Metal Gear, Hideo Kojima's mind has been filled with a plethora of ideas.

Unfortunately, the MD's capabilities were no longer sufficient to support his increasingly imaginative ideas.

Takuya transferred him to be in charge of game review, ostensibly to let him learn from the best and accumulate ammunition for the explosion of the next generation of consoles.

Hideo Kojima understood the executive director's good intentions and accepted the offer.

But how could mediocre writers understand the loneliness of genius?

"It's precisely because we've seen so much mediocrity that the inspiration of geniuses becomes all the more precious." Takuya pulled up a chair, sat down, placed a file folder on the table, and pushed it in front of Hideo Kojima. "Besides, who said you were going to stay here forever? I have a new job here."

Hideo Kojima paused, his gaze falling on the file folder.

The cover features the original English title of Tom Clancy's novel, "The Clear and Present Danger".

"The licensing agreement was just signed in the United States." Takuya tapped the table lightly with his knuckles. "I'm going to adapt it into a game. But not a traditional action game, nor the kind of single-player stealth game you're good at."

He looked at Hideo Kojima and slowly explained his concept, "Imagine a God's-eye view, or rather, a tactical map view. You're not commanding one person, but a special forces team. Before the operation, you can plan detailed routes, breaching methods, and firing angles for each team member on the map—once everything is arranged, press the execute button, and then quietly watch your team members execute your tactics perfectly, like precision machinery."

As Takuya described it, Hideo Kojima's eyes gradually lit up.

His eyes, which had become somewhat lifeless from reviewing trashy games, now burned with renewed fervor.

"Tactical planning, real-time execution, squad infiltration?" He muttered to himself, concrete game scenes already appearing in his mind. "This is a completely different logic from the single-player stealth in Metal Gear, but there are similarities at the core—this is very interesting!"

"That's right." Takuya smiled. "Metal Gear Solid tests a player's reaction time and individual skills, while this game tests a player's strategic vision and tactical planning abilities. It's more ruthless and more professional."

Takuya sought out Hideo Kojima for two reasons: firstly, Kojima's obsession with military themes, and secondly, because in his past life's memories, Hideo Kojima was one of the few Japan producers who could perfectly integrate into the Western development system and win over even the most arrogant United States.

A producer like Hideo Kojima is worthy of Takuya's project, which is based on the gameplay of the previous game, DoorKickers.

"For this project, I need you to go to the United States to personally assemble and lead the team," Takuya dropped the final bombshell. "Working with Tom Clancy's military advisors, and also with real United States developers. So, Kojima -san, interested in going to United States and teaching those arrogant cowboys a lesson?"

"United States— " Hideo Kojima chewed on the word, then suddenly looked up, his eyes gleaming with a light that could almost set the file folder on the table ablaze.

Go to United States! Go to the heart of world cinema!

Leading an international team to create a game with such a forward-thinking concept!

His long-suppressed creative desires exploded at this moment!

"Executive Director," Hideo Kojima picked up the proposal, his hands trembling slightly with excitement, "When are we departing?"

"It won't be long. I've already had Redwood City send over your job transfer documents. Get ready to apply for your visa."