PlayStation, Begin! (4,000 Words)

The year was May 1990.

Kyoto, Nintendo Headquarters.

After countless rounds of debugging and modifications, the Super Nintendo System (SFC) has finally completed all development work and officially entered the final sprint stage of production preparation and launch game release.

Yamauchi Haku's nerves, which had been tense for so long, could finally relax a little.

Meanwhile, at Sony Headquarters in Tokyo, in a heavily guarded research and development laboratory, the atmosphere was quite the opposite.

Ken Kutaragi stood in front of a huge workbench. A prototype SFC had been disassembled into eight pieces, with various parts and chips neatly arranged, like a meticulously dissected body.

A young engineer immediately retrieved the data on his computer and projected it onto the wall.

The densely packed circuit diagrams and parameters form the cornerstone of Nintendo's new generation of gaming empire.

"Kutaragi, I must say, Nintendo's custom-designed Ricoh 5A22 CPU is truly a genius design in handling 2D graphics rotation and scaling." The engineer's tone carried a hint of admiration typical of technical personnel.

Ken Kutaragi picked up a circuit board, looked at it under the light, and gave a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"A genius? He's just a genius who locks himself in a cage."

He put down the circuit board, lost in thought.

"All of its design elements are rigidly welded to 2D functionality. In our eyes, this is Nintendo's ceiling."

Inside the laboratory, dozens of top engineers were working diligently.

On the surface, they are all developing a CD-ROM drive around the SFC's expansion interface.

This is a collaborative project clearly stated in black and white in the agreement; it's an olive branch extended by Sony to Nintendo.

But in another lab in the building, inaccessible to Nintendo engineers, lies the true core of the facility behind a separate access door.

There, another team is developing a completely new mainframe.

"Our PlayStation must have 3D computing capabilities from the very beginning." Ken Kutaragi left the laboratory he had worked with Nintendo and arrived at the door of the laboratory codenamed "PS." He swiped the access card and the scene inside suddenly opened up.

A black machine, a size larger than the SFC prototype, lay quietly on the test bench, with various data cables connected to its core.

"Nintendo thought we were here to add an external disc drive to their Super Famicom." Ken Kutaragi looked at the black machine, his eyes filled with undisguised ambition. "They never dreamed that we were going to use its shell to create a completely new console."

He patted the casing of the black machine, producing a dull thud.

"Kutaragi, as per your request, our independently designed graphics processing chip has completed its initial tape-out. It can be installed and tested next month."

"Very good." Ken Kutaragi took the report, put it aside without even looking at it.

He knew very well that once this machine was released, the so-called SFC compatibility function would be nothing more than a smokescreen, an excuse to leave Nintendo with a bitter pill to swallow.

Once players experience a true 3D game world, who would still want to play those flat, paper-like SFC games?

At that time, Nintendo will be horrified to discover that the "CD technology" they introduced has not only failed to become their weapon, but has instead become a shovel used by Sony to undermine their foundation.

Therefore, from the day Nintendo signed a cooperation agreement with Sony to develop the SFC-CD, Sony launched a new graphics processing chip development program. The goal of this chip was to enable the PlayStation to have 3D image processing capabilities.

He looked at the project progress chart hanging on the wall, which listed Sega's MD-CD project and Nintendo's SFC-CD project side by side, but the former's progress bar was noticeably longer than the latter's.

An idea formed in his mind, and he picked up the phone and dialed Ryoji Chubachi's internal line.

"Naka-sang, that's me, Kutaragi."

"Oh? Kutaragi- kun, what's up?" Ryoji Chubachi the other end of the phone; he seemed to have guessed Ken Kutaragi's purpose for calling.

"That old fox, Yamauchi Haku, is too cautious. Even though the SFC-CD development started as agreed, Nintendo only sent a few rookies to participate in the development." Ken Kutaragi didn't mince words. "He wants to wait until the SFC is released to see the market reaction before deciding how much to invest in the CD project. We can't let him drag this out."

Ryoji Chubachi chuckled softly on the phone, "So, we need to find something to set him on fire."

"Sega," Ken Kutaragi uttered.

"That's right, it's Sega." Ryoji Chubachi's voice carried a businessman's shrewdness. "That Nakayama Takuya from Sega has quite the ambition."

He's very interested in CD technology. If we give him a little push, he'll definitely run incredibly fast.

"That's exactly what I mean." Ken Kutaragi's thinking became completely clear. "Increase our support for Sega's MD-CD kit development. Give them the manpower and the technology, and get them to market as quickly as possible!"

This move kills two birds with one stone.

Ryoji Chubachi slowly analyzed, "First, let Sega be our Pioneer. Whether CD games will work, whether players will buy them, how to promote them, and what the appropriate price should be—let Sega spend money and effort to try these things. We can follow behind, just look at their reports, and learn all their experience without paying a single penny in tuition."

He paused, a hint of amusement in his voice. "This is called a 'paid beta,' except Sega is the Sega paying."

Ken Kutaragi's lips curled up. "Secondly, and most importantly, when Sega's CD player hits the shelves, what do you think the president of Kyoto will look like?"

"He'll be restless, he'll be unable to eat or sleep." Ryoji Chubachi could almost picture Yamauchi Haku's gloomy face. "The media will bombard him with questions, shareholders will interrogate him, third-party manufacturers will complain about him. All the pressure will tell him one thing—if Nintendo doesn't embrace CDs, it will be left behind by the times!"

"By then," Ken Kutaragi continued, his voice brimming with barely suppressed excitement, "We can legitimately accelerate the project's development and make it a done deal!"

"Well said! Let's do it that way!" Ryoji Chubachi made the decision. "You go and arrange it, so that our engineers can help our friends at Sega 'without reservation.' Make sure they feel Sony's 'sincerity.'"

"Clear."

After hanging up the phone, Ken Kutaragi stared at Sega's name on the progress chart, his eyes becoming deep.

Nakayama Takuya —that young man—would probably be very happy to accept this "gift."

He would think that this was Sony showing him goodwill, and that it was another victory for him in his strategic maneuvering.

He had no idea that what he was so happy to accept was nothing more than a whip that Sony used to hasten Nintendo's execution.

Sega Headquarters, Nakayama Takuya's office.

The assistant gently placed a document on Nakayama Takuya's desk, his expression somewhat strange, a mixture of confusion and wariness.

"The executive officer, Sony has suddenly become very proactive," the assistant reported. "They've not only sent three more senior CD-ROM developers..."

The ROM engineer came over and even proactively shared some of their latest reading technology solutions, saying they would fully assist us in speeding up MD-CD reading.

The development progress of the kit.

"Oh?" Takuya put down his pen, leaned back in his wide chair, and a playful smile appeared on his face. "Did a pie fall from the sky? Or has Sony's President Ohga suddenly changed his ways and become a saint, coming here specifically to save Sega?"

This teasing remark left the assistant speechless for a moment. He certainly didn't believe Sony would be so kind, but the other party's attitude was certainly quite convincing.

"They're not helping us." Takuya tapped his fingers lightly on the table, making a soft tapping sound. "They're killing us. But not our lives, they're killing that old man Yamauchi from Yamauchi Kyoto."

He picked up the document, glanced at it, and immediately understood all the key points.

"Nintendo's Super Famicom is probably finished. That old fox, Yamauchi Haku, is probably still trying to maintain his composure and wait until the console is released to see how the market goes before slowly deciding whether to release it on CD. Too bad, someone else is even more impatient than him."

Takuya threw the file back onto the table.

"Sony can't wait any longer, so they're using us as fuel, adding fuel to the fire at Nintendo's cauldron. The bigger the fire burns, the Yamauchi Haku the smoke rises, and the more restless Usain Yamauchi will become. Then the media will hype it up, saying that Sega has already taken the lead in entering the CD era, and see if they're not anxious then."

The assistant suddenly understood, exclaiming, "So that's how it is! They want to use us to pressure Nintendo!"

"That's right." Takuya laughed. "A blatant, overt scheme."

He stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the traffic flowing past below.

"Go tell Minister Nakamura that we should accept all the benefits Sony is offering us!"

"They give us engineers, we use them. They give us technical solutions, we study them. We must act all grateful and flattered so they can 'help' us make the MD-CD kit quickly and well. This free lunch is too good to pass up."

The assistant paused for a moment, not quite understanding why this was necessary, but still nodded vigorously. "Understood!"

After dismissing his assistant, Takuya glanced at the time and picked up his coat.

He went to the company's small screening room, pushed open the door, and saw Hideo Kojima engrossed in watching a large videotape and a military magazine.

"Kojima -san, is your luggage all packed?"

"Ah! Executive Director!" Hideo Kojima was startled. He quickly stood up, adjusted his glasses, and pointed somewhat embarrassedly to the things in his arms. "These are reference materials prepared for the new project. I guarantee they will be useful when we get to United States."

Takuya glanced at them; the covers were all classic war movies like "Platoon" and "Full Metal Jacket."

"Very good, very energetic." Takuya patted him on the shoulder, suppressing a laugh. "But I remind you, we're here to make games, not to hold a film seminar. When we get there, I'll arrange for you to go to the shooting range first, so you can get familiar with the real guns first."

"Really?!" Hideo Kojima's eyes lit up instantly.

Seeing his pathetic state, Takuya shook his head, but felt incredibly happy.

Hours later, a Boeing 747 bound for San Francisco soared into the sky, leaving Tokyo's dazzling lights far behind.

The morning after the two arrived in Redwood City, Takuya took Hideo Kojima and drove to Santa Rosa, which is located on the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge.

The Motion Analysis Corporation is located here.

Pushing open the laboratory door, the two saw dozens of server indicator lights flashing orderly on the racks, and thick cables spreading like vines across the floor and ceiling, connecting to a space in the center of the room surrounded by a black tarpaulin.

Around the venue, more than a dozen high-speed cameras were set up, with their lenses pointed at the center.

Their target, Yu Suzuki, was wearing a simple polo shirt, arms crossed, intently staring at a huge monitor, his brows sometimes relaxing, sometimes furrowing, muttering technical parameters under his breath.

He was surrounded by several blond, blue-eyed engineers, who were nervously adjusting the computer next to him.

"It seems our tech guru has found a new home here," Takuya whispered to Hideo Kojima beside him.

Hideo Kojima did not respond; his gaze was already firmly fixed on the images on the monitor.

The television screen next to him showed a stuntman in a black bodysuit covered in white reflective markers practicing a set of swift and fierce punches Kung Fu in the center of the arena.

Those were the moves that Yu Suzuki and his team had brought to the lab yesterday from a martial arts instructor they hired from San Francisco Chinatown.

On the server's monitor screen, a three-dimensional human model without textures, composed of gray polygons, perfectly replicates every movement of the stunt performer with flawless smoothness and without any delay.

From the force of the punch to the arc of the kick, and the subtle adjustment of the body's center of gravity after landing, everything is precise.

This is much more detailed than the stick figures I saw at Industrial Light & Magic before.

"Takuya! Kojima -san!" Yu Suzuki finally snapped out of his data daze, saw them, and walked over quickly with a tech geek smile on his face.

"Suzuki -san, it seems you're thriving here." Takuya and playfully punched his shoulder.

"The equipment here is amazing." Yu Suzuki's eyes gleamed as he pointed to the cameras, his excitement barely concealed. "It can capture 120 frames of dynamic data per second, with errors controlled to the millimeter level. We're trying to directly convert this raw data into skeletal animation in the game, instead of requiring extensive post-production corrections like in film. This is tailor-made for games!"

Hideo Kojima had walked up to the monitor and stood motionless, as if frozen in place.

He watched as the gray puppet on the screen smoothly threw a series of punches, then instantly regained its balance with a wing strike. The "weight" and "inertia" derived from the real human body made the hairs on his body stand on end.

"Oh my god—" Hideo Kojima muttered to himself. He suddenly turned around and grabbed Takuya's arm, his fingers squeezing hard with excitement.

"Executive Director! Did you see that? This isn't animation! This is a recording of a 'performance'!"

It was as if a new world had opened up for him, and his thoughts began to race. "We can capture more than just fighting! A soldier nervously changing a magazine on the battlefield, his hands trembling! A character struggling through the snow, his body curled up from the cold!"

Takuya couldn't help but laugh at his expression, which looked like he was about to "ascend to heaven".

"Calm down, Kojima- san." He patted Hideo Kojima on the shoulder and teased, "Let Suzuki- san finish his 3D fighting game first, otherwise our new arcade project will be delayed."

Yu Suzuki laughed. He understood Hideo Kojima's excitement, after all, this was the most cutting-edge 3D motion capture technology of the era.

"Kojima -san's idea is very interesting," Yu Suzuki said. "Once our 3D graphics chip is completed, all of this will be possible."

"That's right. But for now, it can only be used in CG animation. Current technology can't support this level of real-time rendering." Takuya looked at the two pillars of Sega's future, one a pioneer in the field of technology, the other an innovator in game storytelling, standing together because of a new technology, their eyes shining with the same light.