Eruption

The anime had just ended; even the end credits had not finished rolling.

Countless households rang with the sound of chairs being shoved back.

"Mom, I'm heading out!"

"Hey, Ken, did you see it? Hurry to the arcade!"

"I'm skipping dinner! I need to practice the special moves!"

The residential streets, which had been fairly quiet moments ago, suddenly filled with small groups of teenagers, all heading with a clear purpose toward the nearest arcade.

The freezing night wind could not dampen the heat in their hearts.

The Sega arcade, already packed to capacity, was hit by a second wave of customers that far surpassed the daytime rush.

The moment the door opened, deafening clamor crashed over them.

The Fatal Fury cabinets were no longer merely crowded; they were completely surrounded.

Many of the newly arrived players still wore the excitement of having just watched the anime on their faces. Their eyes were fixed on the screens, and they muttered instructions under their breaths.

"Down, forward, punch!"

"No, no, it's down, down-forward, forward, punch!"

A schoolboy awkwardly imitated the joystick motion he had seen on television, his fingers wildly tapping the buttons.

On-screen, Terry merely threw a few ordinary punches in place.

Merciless laughter immediately broke out beside him.

"Hahaha, your hands are hopeless!"

"It's ↓→! You have to do it smoothly!"

Suddenly, a huge cheer erupted from a nearby machine.

"I did it! Burn Knuckle! I pulled it off!"

After countless attempts, one lucky player finally made Terry unleash that iconic special move. His face turned bright red with excitement, and he nearly jumped into the air.

The watching crowd also burst into cries of amazement.

"Oohhh! That's so cool!"

"It really works! Just like on TV!"

That successful demonstration greatly spurred everyone else on.

More people began trying.

The shouts of onlookers giving advice or egging people on. The crisp clink of coins constantly dropping into machines. The intense combat sound effects from the games themselves.

All those sounds intertwined, driving the arcade's atmosphere to an unprecedented peak of frenzy.

The lines were even longer than during the day, and impatience spread through the waiting crowds.

A few players even got into verbal arguments over cutting in line or fighting over machines, only to be quickly pulled apart by the sharp-eyed owners.

The arcade owners were suffering and rejoicing at once. On one hand, they had to work hard to maintain order; on the other, they watched their coin boxes fill at an unprecedented rate, their faces creasing into broad smiles.

The "tutorial video" after the anime's ending acted like the most precise catalyst, efficiently converting the massive attention generated by the anime into actual arcade coin revenue and player engagement.

Following the inputs they had just memorized, many players quickly mastered several basic special moves.

The sense of achievement from personally pulling off a flashy technique was incomparable to merely watching the anime or blindly mashing buttons like before.

The game's addictive pull was infinitely amplified at that moment.

"Terry's move is really useful!"

"How do you do Andy's 'Shadow Slash Punch'? Are they teaching it in the next episode?"

"Joe Higashi's 'Hurricane Upper' seems to have a huge range!"

Discussions about how to perform moves, which character was stronger, and which techniques were more practical became the central topic on the floor.

Some people even pulled out pocket notebooks and clumsily drew joystick directions and button inputs, afraid they would forget them.

Heat billowed through the arcade, creating a scene of ice and fire in stark contrast to the winter chill outside.

The following morning, at the Sega Development Group 3 office.

Team Leader Shimizu had two enormous dark circles under his eyes, yet he was unusually energized, as though he had just downed three cans of concentrated coffee.

Reports covered the desk before him like snowflakes, all of them feedback and preliminary revenue figures collected overnight and that morning from directly operated and partner arcades across the country.

The fax machine was still squealing as it spat out fresh battle reports, every page carrying the mingled scent of ink and money.

"The Ikebukuro branch's daily revenue for a single cabinet exceeded five hundred thousand yen!"

"At the Shinjuku branch, the line for the Fatal Fury area lasted until three in the morning!"

"In Osaka, players nearly came to blows over the machines!"

Every number, every description, screamed of last night's madness.

Team Leader Shimizu picked up one of the reports, his hand trembling slightly beyond his control. His voice was hoarse with the remnants of a hangover and excitement.

"Last night... my God... it was practically... a storm sweeping the entire country!"

"Every arcade's Fatal Fury revenue set a new single-day record! And note, it didn't just beat the record—it blew past it! Some locations even doubled their numbers!"

Yu Suzuki, who had specially rushed over from Team Two to inquire about the first-day sales report, nodded vigorously in agreement. The look he gave Nakayama Takuya was one of utter admiration.

"Nakayama-san, this move of yours was brilliant! Putting the tutorial straight into the anime's ending! That's textbook-level cross-media synergy!"

"I slipped over to the arcade near my place last night too. Good lord, the crowd was even crazier than the daytime rush! They were all kids who'd just rushed over after watching the anime."

"Their goal was crystal clear. They came in, found Fatal Fury, fed in coins, and practiced. Every potential player among the anime audience got swept up in one net! The conversion rate was terrifyingly high!"

A faint, almost imperceptible smile rested on Nakayama Takuya's lips as he lifted the still-steaming cup of tea on his desk and gently blew on it.

He had more or less anticipated what would happen last night, so he had unplugged his apartment's phone line and gone to bed early.

The boiling excitement before him differed little from what he had expected.

"This is only the first step."

He set down his teacup. His voice was calm, yet it was like a stabilizing pillar, instantly suppressing the office's somewhat out-of-control frenzy.

"The anime's popularity was the fuse, and the tutorial video was the spark. Together, they successfully ignited the market."

"But for the flames to keep burning, we need to keep adding fresh fuel."

"Release the follow-up promotional materials and events step by step, according to the schedule we laid out earlier."

Meanwhile, at Nintendo headquarters in Kyoto.

The atmosphere was even more oppressive than it had been yesterday.

An urgent report regarding the premiere of the Fatal Fury anime—especially the second wave of arcade mania sparked by its "actual gameplay tutorial" ending—was delivered to Yamauchi Hiroshi's desk at top speed, like an expedited military order.

The report was exceptionally detailed. It not only described the packed, impassable scenes at arcades across the country last night, but also included preliminary estimates of revenue growth at several arcades, as well as an analysis of changes in player behavior.

The report particularly emphasized the immediate conversion effect of the "tutorial video"—large numbers of anime viewers who had never or rarely played games had flocked to arcades at once under the tutorial's guidance, tried their hand at the controls, and mastered basic special moves in a short time. Their willingness to insert coins and their playtime had both exploded.

Yamauchi Hiroshi held the report in one hand while the fingers of his other hand tapped unconsciously against the smooth mahogany desktop. Tap, tap, tap. The rhythm was noticeably faster than usual, as though he were calculating something—or suppressing something.

His trademark thick brows were tightly furrowed, and his eagle-sharp gaze scrutinized every word on the report.

The office was silent as the grave. Several executives even softened their breathing, afraid of disturbing the tyrant.

Their previous internal assessment of Sega's "cash-burning marketing" and "bubble creation" now seemed somewhat laughable in the face of this report.

This was no simple publicity stunt, much less some intangible bubble.

Sega—or rather, Nakayama Takuya—had opened an entirely new front in a nearly "cheating" fashion, precisely and efficiently converting the virtual popularity of an anime into tangible arcade revenue and user loyalty.

The effectiveness of it and the novelty of the method were so striking that even Yamauchi Hiroshi, an industry titan who had weathered countless storms, felt a trace of unexpected surprise.

For the first time, he truly took Sega's seemingly reckless cross-industry collaboration seriously—and felt... an indescribable hint of wariness.

"Keep a close eye on Sega's next moves."

Yamauchi Hiroshi finally raised his head, his gaze sweeping over every executive present as if it had physical weight. His voice remained low, but carried unquestionable authority.

"Especially the content they release at the end of each week's anime episode."

"Have the Marketing Department and Technical Development Department jointly form a temporary task force."

"I want a clear analysis of the specific impact this 'anime tutorial traffic-driving' model has on player psychology and spending habits, as well as the potential impact it could have on our existing promotional strategy and the Famicom ecosystem."

"I want to see a detailed assessment report."

Though deep down, he still believed that home console platforms were the ultimate destination and true path of the gaming industry.

This opponent, who had suddenly become extremely "clever," was clearly far more difficult to handle—and... far more cunning—than he had initially imagined.

One executive seemed about to say something, perhaps trying to ease the tension, when he had barely opened his mouth.

Yamauchi Hiroshi shot him an icy look.

"Never underestimate an opponent capable of taking money from players' pockets, especially when they do it in a way we've never seen before."

The executive immediately shut his mouth, fine beads of sweat forming on his forehead.