Licking Wounds
In Tokyo at dawn, the sky was just beginning to lighten.
Norio Ohga slept very well last night.
News came from Chicago that Ken Kutaragi's presentation was a huge success, and the performance specifications of PlayStation shocked the entire CES.
He could almost picture the dumbfounded, comical looks on the faces of the United States media and their competitors.
Sony, the sleeping lion, has finally let out its first roar in its new hunting ground.
He finished washing up in a good mood, changed into a crisp shirt, and was about to have breakfast when the dedicated telephone in his study rang at an inopportune moment.
The ringtone was urgent and shrill, as if urging something on.
Norio Ohga frowned slightly, walked over and answered the phone.
"It's me."
There was a deathly silence on the other end of the phone, with only suppressed, heavy breathing audible.
Several seconds passed Ken Kutaragi's dry, hoarse voice finally came through.
"President—we—we've been tricked."
Norio Ohga's hand, holding the receiver, remained motionless.
Explain yourself.
"Nintendo —they held a press conference this afternoon—" Ken Kutaragi's voice was devoid of any engineer's pride, only filled with exhaustion and humiliation. "They announced the termination of all cooperation with us. Their new partner is— Philips."
Philips?
The name flashed through Norio Ohga's mind: the Netherlands tycoon who sold light bulbs and razors, and another holder of the CD patent.
"They also—" Ken Kutaragi's voice trembled, "They announced in front of the world's media that they would sue us—claiming ownership of the 'PlayStation' trademark to Nintendo."
"We cannot use this name to sell anything until the lawsuit is over."
Norio Ohga remained silent.
He simply turned around slowly and looked at the sky outside the window, which was just beginning to brighten.
The dawn in Tokyo is beautiful and serene.
But what appeared before his eyes was that stage in Chicago.
He imagined how Ken Kutaragi would proudly announce the parameters, and how he would enjoy the astonishment of the audience.
Then, he saw Minoru Arakawa's smiling face as he calmly plunged a knife into Sony's heart.
trademark.
They actually started their attack from here.
To cut off the fuel supply at the source.
They used Sony's money, Sony's technology, and Sony's ambitions to create the biggest joke in the world.
"Ha ha----"
Norio Ohga suddenly chuckled softly, a short and cold laugh that sent a chill down the spine of Ken Kutaragi on the other end of the phone.
"President?"
"Well done, Yamauchi Hiroshi —well done, Minoru Arakawa— " Norio Ohga muttered to himself, not in praise, but in the humiliation that had seeped into his very bones.
He finally realized that, from beginning to end, Sony was the monkey being played.
They thought they had cleverly found a loophole in the contract, but they never imagined that the other party would be so decisive in cutting off the contract.
Nintendo dug a huge pit, while Sony, overjoyed, grabbed its own bomb and ran headlong into it.
"President, I—" Ken Kutaragi's voice was trembling with sobs.
"Shut up." Norio Ohga's voice returned to its usual calm, devoid of any warmth. "Now is not the time to assign blame. You, and your men, return to Tokyo immediately. Immediately."
"Yes!"
"We'll discuss the rest when you get back."
After hanging up the phone, Norio Ohga didn't move.
He just stood there, watching the city outside the window awaken in the morning light.
Going to court? Even if you win, how long will it take? A year? Two years? Can the market afford to wait?
Strip away Nintendo's technology, rebrand, and start all over again? What about that world-renowned press conference this morning? Was it a self-inflicted, publicly announced suicidal performance?
Even more critically, Sony's financial situation simply cannot withstand such turmoil.
The company incurred astronomical debt in order to acquire Columbia Pictures.
The report card that Hollywood filmmakers submitted this year is hardly impressive.
PlayStation was supposed to be the game-changer, the new source of profit growth.
Now, it has become a bleeding wound, a black hole.
Norio Ohga walked to his desk, where an exquisite Sony radio sat, its "SONY" logo gleaming in the morning light.
This is Sony's pride.
Now, that pride has been trampled into the mud in Chicago.
He picked up another phone and dialed the number of the head of the Legal Department.
The moment the call connected, all emotion vanished from his face, leaving only an iron will.
"Get everyone up. We're having a meeting at headquarters now."
We're in trouble.
Radio waves traveling across the Pacific Ocean are ultimately much faster than newspaper ink.
The farce in Chicago was reported back to Japan early the next morning, UTC+7.
Konami headquarters, president's office.
Kozuki Kagemasa hung up the overseas call from the United States branch last month, there was no surprise on his face, but rather a knowing "I knew it" expression.
He slowly lit a cigarette, and his shrewd face became somewhat blurred in the swirling smoke.
"President," the secretary knocked and entered, holding a sheet of paper that had just come out of the fax machine and was still warm, "This is an urgent report from the United States."
Kozuki Kagemasa, but just gestured towards his desk with his lip.
"Just leave it there, I already know."
He took a drag of his cigarette, slowly exhaled, and watched the smoke swirl and dissipate in the air, much like Sony's grand but short-lived product launch event.
He then placed the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, pressed the intercom button, and spoke softly but with an unquestionable commanding tone.
"Have all Development Department come to my office for a meeting within ten minutes."
Ten minutes later, several of Konami's core development managers stood in front of Kozuki Kagemasa's desk with varying expressions.
They had clearly heard about the storm across the ocean, and their faces were etched with turmoil.
"You've all heard, haven't you?" Kozuki Kagemasa stubbed out his cigarette.
Everyone nodded.
"Very well, then I won't waste any more words." He leaned forward slightly, placed his hands on the table, and his gaze swept over everyone like a hawk's. "From today onwards, SFC, your internal rating in our company will be raised to the highest level, equivalent to MD."
Upon hearing this, a department head in charge of arcade porting couldn't help but speak up, "President, but our main focus has always been on the Mega Drive and arcade games. The Super Famicom's development architecture—"
"Then put your energy into it!" Kozuki Kagemasa interrupted him bluntly. "The structure is static, but people are dynamic! The money is real! How much SFC sold in Europe and America during the New Year was all written in the briefings you received. That's not something you can just read for entertainment."