University of Tokyo Wants In Too?
Inside the Game Review Team, Hideo Kojima was wearing headphones, pretending to be engrossed in writing an evaluation report for a submitted game.
But his gaze kept involuntarily drifting towards the Famitsu on his colleague's desk next to him.
"Kojima -san, stop pretending." His colleague couldn't help but laugh at his expression and pushed the magazine towards him. "Look, your game reviews are really popular with the players."
Hideo Kojima picked up the magazine, turned to the rating page, and paused slightly when he saw the "38 points" and the comment below.
He recalled that afternoon in United States, arguing with Tom Clancy about the game's content.
He recalled the night Mark Cerny was still studying the mainframe code late into the night, trying to optimize it for just a little more computing space.
He recalled what Nakayama Takuya had told him, "I want players to reach a consensus: every game made by Hideo Kojima contains a treasure worth discovering."
It turns out that all this hard work and dedication can be accurately conveyed to the player on the other end, a complete stranger, through this small cartridge.
That profound sense of understanding and resonance warmed his heart.
Nakayama Takuya only glanced at the reviews and sales reports for "The Clear and Present Danger" before setting them aside.
He got up and walked towards the Computer Software Development Team.
In contrast to the boisterous celebrations of victory in the game department, the scene here was one of tense yet orderly busy activity.
When Nohara saw him, he immediately came over and handed him a printed copy of the test log.
"Executive, the final stress test is complete. We simulated one thousand users posting, refreshing, and replying simultaneously for twelve hours. The system load remained stable, with no crashes or data delays."
Nakayama Takuya nodded, his gaze passing over Nohara and landing on the two Tokyo Tech were intently staring at the screen full of code.
"You've worked hard." He walked over. "How does it feel to build this world with your own hands?"
One of the students, wearing glasses, looked up, adjusted his glasses, and seemed quite excited. "BBS—it's so interesting! I have a feeling it will definitely become popular among internet users."
Nakayama Takuya nodded in agreement after hearing this.
"Content alone isn't enough." He then changed the subject, "In the early stages of a community, it needs guides, maintainers of order, or in other words—administrators."
"Let's do it!"
The two spoke in unison, as if they had rehearsed it, which startled the Nohara leader standing next to them.
The students wearing glasses eagerly said, "Dean, please let us be the first system administrators of the Tokyo Tech BBS!"
No one knows it better than us, and no one loves our school more than us!
"We will be responsible for the initial planning of the forum area, user guidance, and even provide hands-on instruction to teachers and students on how to use it!"
We'll make sure it gets lively in the shortest amount of time!
Seeing the light in their eyes, Nakayama Takuya knew he had found the most suitable candidate.
With the developers taking on the initial operational responsibilities, there couldn't be a more perfect start.
Nakayama Takuya turned to Team Leader Nohara and said, "Next week's installation and deployment will be handled by you and the other two, to oversee the technical coordination with the school. I don't want Professor Yonezawa's first post to be in the bug report section."
Team Leader Nohara chuckled, "Don't worry, Executive Director."
I had just left the development team and sat down in my office chair, not even having a chance to take a sip of water, when there was a knock on the office door.
It was his secretary, whose expression was somewhat peculiar.
"It's Professor Yonezawa on the phone, Executive Director."
"Bring them in." Nakayama Takuya assumed they were there to finalize the installation schedule.
The secretary didn't move, but lowered her voice and added, "The professor said that an 'old friend' next to him wants to talk to you—he's from the University of Tokyo."
University of Tokyo?
Nakayama Takuya was about to pick up his water glass, froze in mid-air.
As soon as the call connected, Professor Yonezawa's voice came through. "Takuya, you're something else! I just finished reporting to the principal, and somehow the news got to the neighbors next door!"
"Teacher, I—"
"Alright, stop talking for now," Professor Yonezawa interrupted him, his tone tinged with pride and smugness. "This gentleman next to me is the Dean of the Department of Information Engineering at the University of Tokyo, my old rival. He has a few questions for you."
Soon, a different person answered the phone. Their voice sounded more refined, but there was an undeniable air of authority in their words.
"Are you Sega's Nakayama Director Nakayama? I'm Aoyama Yuki from the University of Tokyo. I only have one question: would you be willing to sell us a copy of your BBS system?"
"Well, yes, it's possible—" Nakayama Takuya's words carried a perfectly timed hesitation, but his mind was racing.
The University of Tokyo? That's not in his script.
His plan was to first establish a benchmark in the "base" of Tokyo Tech, and then gradually expand.
Unexpectedly, the University of Tokyo acted so quickly; it was as if they sensed something and came knocking on our door.
On the other end of the phone, Aoyama Yuki was clearly displeased with his hesitation, her voice growing colder. "Executive Director Nakayama, is there some difficulty?"
As soon as he finished speaking, a commotion erupted from the receiver, as if Professor Yonezawa had snatched the phone back.
"Alright, alright, Aoyama, shut up your bureaucratic airs!" Professor Yonezawa's booming voice rang out again, filled with undisguised boasting. "Takuya, ignore him. That old guy is just like that; he's clearly as anxious as an ant on a hot plate inside, but he still insists on putting on airs like he's the best at Tokyo University."
A suppressed cough seemed to come from the other end of the phone, clearly indicating that Professor Aoyama had been seriously injured.
Nakayama Takuya almost burst out laughing; he could already picture the smug look on his teacher's face.
"Teacher, what exactly happened?"
"What else could it be!" Professor Yonezawa's tone grew increasingly smug. "I reported it to the president, and wow, he immediately touted it as a highlight of the teaching reform at the meeting with the Ministry of Ministry of Education. And what happened? The president of the University of Tokyo was there too, and his face turned green on the spot. Sure enough, as soon as the meeting ended, the University of Tokyo called our president's office, insisting on some kind of 'academic resource sharing'."
Professor Yonezawa cleared his throat and continued, "Aoyama and I have already discussed it. Tokyo Tech and the University of Aoyama will each build a BBS! Tokyo Tech will focus on academic sections related to engineering and science, while the University of Tokyo will focus on its strongest areas: humanities, social sciences, and medicine. We'll keep to ourselves and still share resources. Pretty good, right, Professor?"
Nakayama Takuya's breath hitched; an assist?
Teacher, you're not just giving me an assist, you've practically drawn the final circle for me!
The fact that both Tokyo Tech and the University of Tokyo, two pillars of Japan academia, adopted Sega's BBS system directly promoted Sega's brand throughout the entire Japan academic community.
The net was cast wider and faster than he had anticipated!
"If you manage to get this done, both Tokyo Tech and Tokyo University will owe you a huge favor," Professor Yonezawa said expectantly. "You better not let me down at this crucial moment!"
"Teacher, don't worry." Nakayama Takuya suppressed his elation, his tone regaining its usual composure. "I guarantee I'll complete the mission."
Professor Yonezawa's satisfied laughter came from the other end of the phone. "Hahaha! Alright, it's settled then."