Taking Care of the Firearms Association
As Nakayama Takuya and Hideo Kojima were fully immersed in wrapping up "The Clear and Present Danger," a phone call from Colt Company interrupted the lively discussion in the R&D department.
Takuya walked to the window and pressed the answer button.
The voice coming from the other end of the phone was Matt Wallace's tired, slightly hoarse voice.
"Mr. Nakayama- sen, the matter has been taken care of."
"Really? Congratulations, Mr. Wallace." Takuya's tone was calm, as if he were discussing the weather.
"Congratulations?" Matt gave a wry smile on the other end. "I feel like I just negotiated a share of meat with a pack of jackals that hadn't eaten for half a month."
There's not a single good spot on my body. I'd rather argue with the procurement officials at the Department of Defense for three days and three nights right now.
Takuya chuckled softly, "The capable are always given more work."
"Don't even mention it." Matt sighed, seemingly lighting a cigarette; his voice, even through the receiver, carried a hint of smokiness. "They agreed that Colt would hold Sega's one percent of the voting rights on their behalf. But..."
"But?"
"But we at Colt are the biggest suckers!" Matt's voice rose a few decibels, filled with resentment. "In the movie, our Colt products, especially the civilian models, were given the lowest possible screen time! The protagonist uses a Smith & Wesson revolver for self-defense at home; he shows off at the shooting range with Ruger competition-grade pistol; and even in the final showdown, they gave Remington shotguns a five-second close-up!"
"They said that we Colt have NATO military orders to back us up, and this little bit of publicity in the civilian market should be given to these 'starving' brother companies. To hell with brother companies!" Matt couldn't help but swear.
Upon hearing this, Takuya's smile deepened.
He could almost picture those arms giants arguing heatedly, like Hollywood actresses fighting for a spot on the red carpet, over who gets an extra second of screen time for their products in a movie.
"But you still managed to get leadership, didn't you?" Takuya hit the nail on the head with just one sentence.
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.
"Yes—" Matt's voice lowered, a hint of satisfaction showing through his weariness, "We got it. We traded a few shots in a movie for control of industry standards for the next decade. It's a worthwhile trade no matter how you look at it."
"So, congratulations, Mr. Wallace," Takuya said again.
This time, Matt did not refute it.
"Universal Pictures has been urging us several times already, so we can give them the green light now." Matt's voice regained its businessman's composure. "Your damn script, Universal has already assembled a writing team."
"Then let them get to work," Takuya said. "Don't forget, Sega only has seven years."
"I can't forget it." Matt hung up the phone.
Takuya put down his phone, looked out the window at the bright sunshine over Redwood City, and felt relaxed.
Colt sacrificed "face" in the film for "substance" within the industry.
Other firearms companies shared in the publicity benefits brought by the movie, thus tacitly acknowledging Colt's leadership position.
A civil war he instigated came to a happy end.
Sega, as the instigator, received only the invaluable data usage rights and a seven-year game adaptation right.
Clean and spotless, not a single leaf clings to you.
One week later, in a conference room at Universal Pictures.
For the first time, Matt Wallace found the Los Angeles sunlight a bit too bright.
The men around him were vice presidents from Smith & Wesson & Wesson and Remington, all dressed in suits, with serious expressions and upright postures as if they were attending a Pentagon hearing.
On the other side of the conference table were Hollywood elites led by Universal Pictures producer Bob, all with bright smiles and relaxed postures, the air thick with the scent of cologne and dollars.
Two completely different auras created a stark contrast in the room.
Sitting in the main seat, Nakayama Takuya was like the eye of the storm where two different auras met, almost too calm.
"Mr. Nakayama!" Producer Bob exclaimed excitedly, gesturing wildly. "We've contacted several action directors, and they're absolutely blown away by your 'Gun-Fight' concept! Gunfighting! God, that alone sounds worth fifty million at the box office!"
Matt Wallace cleared his throat, interrupting Bob's performance. "What we care about more is that the weapon models and tactical accessories appearing in the film must strictly adhere to the list we provide. We don't want to see the protagonist carrying a Colt rifle but using a Remington magazine."
The Remington vice president next to him immediately added, "That's right, especially that warehouse battle scene. Our M870 shotguns must have a complete close-up of loading and firing, and the shot must be at least three seconds long."
"Of course, of course! The devil is in the details, we understand!" Bob readily agreed, then turned his expectant gaze to Takuya, "Mr. Nakayama, regarding the protagonist's backstory, we'd like to add the fact that he carried out secret missions for the CIA. This would make his motive for murder more—"
"Mr. Bob."
Takuya finally spoke, his voice not loud, but it instantly silenced the entire conference room.
He looked around, a polite smile on his face, "I'm a game developer, not a movie director."
He pointed to everyone present.
"You," he said, pointing to Matt and the others, "Are firearms experts, in charge of the specialty."
"You guys," he then pointed to Bob and his team, "Are film experts, responsible for the exciting parts."
"As for me," Takuya shrugged, his posture as relaxed as if he were in his own living room, "I was just the one who made the suggestion. My task is complete."
He stood up and straightened the hem of his suit jacket.
"Sega's requirement has always been the same: the movie has to be cool enough to capture the allure of guns. As for how to actually film it, that's your area of expertise, and I won't interfere. I also hope you can deliver on your promise."
After saying that, he nodded to everyone and walked straight towards the conference room door.
He left behind a room full of gritty arms tycoons and movie moguls.
As the door closed, Matt Wallace stared at it with a complex expression. This Japan had ignited the flames of war, defined the battlefield, set the rules, and then so casually turned and left, leaving everyone else behind at the poker table.
He himself remained completely untouched by any trouble.
As he walked out of the Universal Pictures building, Takuya got into the car back to the hotel. He looked out the window at the huge "HOLLYWOOD" sign on the hillside, but his mind wasn't on box office revenue or profit sharing.
He was thinking about what kind of game Sega would release to capitalize on the desire overflowing from the big screen when the movie was released and young people all over the world went crazy for that elegant yet deadly gunfighting style.