Aftermath of the Interview

For a time, discussion surrounding Fatal Fury surged to unprecedented heights.

Gaming fans were amazed by Sega's lavish investment and the "game + anime" promotional model.

Anime fans, meanwhile, were drawn in by the pairing of Oba Kotaro and Masami Kurumada, and their imaginations ran wild over the "new work" mentioned by Kurumada-sensei.

The media offensive planned by Takuya had exceeded expectations.

Nintendo's attempt to suppress Project "K" had instead become the best possible publicity boost for Fatal Fury.

Sega headquarters, top-floor office.

Nakayama Hayao looked over the public opinion report his secretary had compiled, along with the magazines laid out on his desk. His tightly furrowed brow gradually relaxed.

The report detailed the enthusiastic market response to the Fatal Fury feature, especially the additional attention brought by Masami Kurumada.

He picked up NEWTYPE, turned to Masami Kurumada's interview page, and let his gaze linger on the words "Producer Nakayama."

This son of his had not only shown talent in game development, but also displayed a sharpness and maturity in marketing strategy and resource integration far beyond his years.

This successful PR counterattack had undoubtedly added an important weight to Project "K."

It had also shown those board members who held conservative views toward 16-bit consoles the potential Sega possessed for content innovation.

Nakayama Hayao set down the magazine and lightly tapped his fingers against the desk.

Perhaps the next-generation project would get underway more smoothly than he had expected.

Meanwhile, at Namco headquarters.

The same latest gaming and anime magazines lay on Nakamura Masaya's desk.

He stared at the coverage of Fatal Fury, his face dark.

Sega had made such a high-profile move, invested so heavily, and even brought in Oba Kotaro and Masami Kurumada.

How could a situation like this be handled simply by "avoiding competition"?

To snipe Sega, Nintendo had not hesitated to sacrifice Namco's Pac-Man, treating him like a pawn.

And now Sega's counterattack had been so elegant and so overwhelming.

By comparison, Namco could only passively accept Nintendo's arrangements. Even the budget for a major promotional campaign to build anticipation for their flagship product, Pac-Man, seemed painfully inadequate.

A deep sense of powerlessness and resentment rose in Nakamura Masaya's heart once more.

He looked at Masami Kurumada's high-spirited photo in the magazine, then thought of the formulaic smile of Nintendo's marketing representative.

Perhaps under Nintendo's hegemony, obedience truly was not the only choice.

In the Sega Development Team Three office at the end of October, the air seemed to have been set ablaze by invisible flames. The oppressive heat was almost comparable to asphalt under a midsummer afternoon sun.

The rapid clatter of keys fell like rain, mixed with hushed but heated discussions and the occasional sound effects of fists and kicks colliding from external speakers.

At the center of the office, an arcade cabinet had become the undisputed focus.

On the screen, Terry Bogard, blond-haired and red-capped, stood facing Geese Howard, who wore a kimono and radiated an intimidating presence.

The internal demo of Fatal Fury, codenamed "K," had revealed itself to the core developers for the first time.

Team Leader Shimizu stood nearby, his palms lightly sweating as his gaze moved repeatedly between the screen and the gathered colleagues.

Yu Suzuki was the first to lose patience. Rolling up his sleeves, he sat down at the controls.

"I'll give this so-called 'fighting game' a try first!"

He eagerly gripped the joystick, awkwardly controlling Terry as he moved left and right and experimented with the punch and kick buttons.

Terry immediately responded on-screen, throwing punches and kicks with movements that looked more than a level smoother than Kung Fu.

Another development team leader who had been brought over to observe took control of Geese.

The two soon began trading blows, and the basic clashes of fists and feet delivered immediate, tangible impact feedback.

"Oh! That hit!"

"Block! Hurry, block!"

However, when they tried to imitate the motion inputs Takuya had described earlier to unleash special moves, the scene immediately became a little comical.

The joysticks groaned as they were spun, the buttons clacked beneath frantic slaps, yet the characters on-screen merely jumped in place or threw an ordinary punch or kick.

"That's not right. How do you do that 'Burn Knuckle'?"

"What about Power Wave? Which button is it?"

Every now and then, someone managed to pull one off by sheer accident. Terry would fire a Power Wave across the screen, only for it to hit nothing, drawing a small chorus of disappointed sighs.

That unfamiliarity instead highlighted the game's potential technical depth, and it made the developers around them laugh, easing the atmosphere considerably.

"Looks like it still takes practice."

Yu Suzuki wiped the sweat from his forehead and stood up reluctantly.

Nakayama Takuya stepped forward with a smile and naturally took hold of the joystick. "I'll demonstrate."

The moment his fingers settled on the joystick and buttons, his entire presence seemed to change. The earlier noise appeared not to have affected him in the slightest. His eyes focused on the screen, and the office unconsciously fell quiet, leaving only the soft hum of the arcade machine. The developers who had just been complaining about how difficult the motion inputs were craned their necks, while even Yu Suzuki leaned in again, his gaze locked on the display.

The Terry Bogard under his control seemed to have been given a soul. He moved swiftly, his footwork precise. Gone were the somewhat clumsy left-right probes from Yu Suzuki's attempt; instead, there were short hops, quick retreats, and sudden dashes, every movement nimble and exact.

Geese attacked, and the Terry controlled by Nakayama Takuya calmly stepped half a pace back, judging the distance with perfect precision and narrowly evading Geese's probing fist.

The instant Geese's attack missed, Takuya's fingers moved. His left thumb traced a smooth quarter-circle at the base of the stick while his right index and middle fingers tapped the buttons almost simultaneously, the motion clean and sharp, producing two crisp clicks.

"Power Wave!"

Terry on the screen gave a low shout in response, lowered his stance slightly, and thrust both hands forward, sending a clearly visible pale-yellow energy wave roaring along the ground straight at Geese.

"Whoa!" A subdued gasp rose from the crowd.

"That's it!" The developer who had failed earlier couldn't help crying out under his breath, eyes wide as he tried to memorize Takuya's inputs.

On the screen, the computer-controlled Geese hurriedly raised his arms to defend. The Power Wave struck his guard with a dull thud, forcing Geese to stagger back slightly.

Takuya did not stop. The moment the Power Wave was blocked, he made Terry dash forward, taking advantage of the brief recovery after his opponent's guard to instantly close the distance. At nearly point-blank range, he suddenly changed moves.

The stick moved again with perfect precision—back, down, forward, all in one fluid motion—while the punch button was pressed.

"Burn Knuckle!"

Terry's right fist was instantly wrapped in blazing flames as he surged forward with a sharp rush of air. The timing of the punch was impeccable, landing just as the computer-controlled Geese dropped his guard and attempted to counterattack.

Bang!

The Burn Knuckle slammed solidly into Geese's chest. A striking visual effect burst across the screen as Geese was sent flying backward, a chunk disappearing from his health bar.

"It hit! It hit!" Someone excitedly slapped the shoulder of the colleague beside him.

"So that's how the moves are supposed to flow together..." Yu Suzuki stroked his chin thoughtfully. Earlier, he had only been mashing inputs at random, never considering the connections and timing between moves.

Team leader Shimizu's clenched hands relaxed slightly, and a pleased expression appeared on his face. This smooth demonstration explained the matter better than any flowery words could.

Takuya did not stop. He continued controlling Terry, sometimes jumping in with flying kicks to pressure his opponent, sometimes harassing him with precise low attacks, and occasionally deliberately leaving an opening before countering the opponent's attack with a throw. The fluid string of inputs left everyone dazzled.

"You can do that?"

"How did he chain a special move after that jumping attack?"

"His reactions are so fast..."

The developers who had just thought the game's "move inputs were too difficult" now had nothing but amazement and eagerness on their faces. They finally understood that the game was not difficult—they simply had not mastered the trick yet. These seemingly simple combinations of punches, kicks, and special moves held incredibly deep strategy and technique in a game that responded this quickly.

Yu Suzuki watched Geese being toyed with by Takuya on the screen and could not help laughing, with a hint of self-mockery. "Looks like I'll have to start learning from the beginning." His words drew a wave of soft laughter from those around him, and the atmosphere became thoroughly lively. The way everyone looked at Nakayama Takuya had changed from initial curiosity to complete trust and anticipation. This young man had truly made something remarkable.

Geese staggered from the blow.

Before anyone could react, Takuya's fluid sequence of inputs unfolded once more.