Ripples and Momentum

Tokyo, Iron Plate Formation Building, Namco Headquarters.

Nakamura Masaya stood before the huge floor-to-ceiling windows of the president's office, looking down at the bustling traffic below.

Information about last night's premiere of the Fatal Fury anime and the "second boom" it had sparked in arcades had reached his desk immediately.

In particular, the unprecedented game tutorial segment during the anime's ending credits had been specially highlighted in bold in the report.

The morning sunlight streamed brightly through the glass, but it did nothing to dispel the shadow in Nakamura Masaya's heart.

Compared to the lukewarm market response following the release of Namco's Famicom version of Pac-Man, Sega's side was as lively as oil thrown onto a raging fire.

The stark contrast between ice and fire left an emotion called "frustration," mixed with a trace of unwillingness, weighing heavily on his chest.

Nintendo's seemingly precise "snipe" had, in hindsight, not harmed Sega in the slightest. Instead, it had made them look like a clumsy clown, only highlighting Fatal Fury's brilliance all the more.

Sega... no, Nakayama Takuya had found an entirely new path.

A magical channel capable of efficiently and precisely funneling the popularity of anime, manga, and every other form of entertainment into the game itself, directly converting it into hard cash and player loyalty.

And Namco?

They were still inching cautiously along the track Nintendo had marked out. Even when they wanted to try something new with their most classic IP, they had to watch that "Your Majesty's" expression, ultimately becoming nothing more than a tiny pawn on someone else's chessboard.

Nakamura Masaya silently turned around, his back to the prosperity outside the window.

On the desk lay a request for approval from Nintendo regarding follow-up promotional events for Pac-Man, quietly mocking him.

Late January, Osaka.

The atmosphere in the president's office at Konami headquarters was somewhat grave.

Kozuki Kagemasa's gaze rested on the sales report before him.

It was a chart concerning their shooting game TwinBee.

The game had launched on January 4, and its initial sales curve had risen steadily, meeting expectations.

However, after the January 11 mark, that curve had suddenly plunged, tracing a clear and sustained downward trajectory.

His gaze passed through the window toward the bustling commercial district not far away. The arcades there had hung enormous Fatal Fury posters by the roadside. He could almost feel the market frenzy stirred up by Fatal Fury; its heat seemed to have pierced the physical distance and seeped into Osaka's air.

Several Konami executives sat upright in the office.

Kozuki Kagemasa lightly tapped his fingers against the desk, producing soft, rhythmic clicks.

"Fatal Fury's momentum is even fiercer than we expected."

His voice was calm, but it carried a weight that could not be ignored.

"Arcades, anime, tutorials... Sega's combination of moves has been extremely precise. The results are phenomenal."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across everyone present.

"Their target audience is primarily teenagers, which overlaps considerably with the intended market for several of our upcoming Famicom games."

They could not let their own hard work become mere background noise beneath someone else's carnival.

Kozuki Kagemasa's eyes sharpened as he made his decision.

"The Goonies, Circus Charlie, and most importantly, the Famicom version of Gradius, all originally scheduled for release over the first half of the year, will be postponed."

"How long?" an executive asked cautiously.

"Anywhere from half a month to a month. We'll decide based on market conditions. At the very least, we must wait until Fatal Fury finishes airing in early April."

Kozuki Kagemasa's tone was decisive.

"We need to avoid the period when Fatal Fury is at its sharpest."

With the decision made, the executive responsible for liaising with Nintendo immediately placed a call to Kyoto.

Following procedure, he informed Nintendo of Konami's decision to adjust its release schedule and explained the market considerations behind it—mainly the strategic intent to avoid the impact of Fatal Fury.

On the other end of the line, Nintendo's liaison officer spoke through the receiver. There was no emotion in his voice, only blandness.

"Oh?"

A simple question, yet it carried a faint chill that was hard to detect.

"Because of a little market activity from a competitor, you have so little confidence in your own flagship products, especially Gradius?"

The liaison's voice remained neutral, but every word struck against the Konami executive's heart.

"President Kozuki should understand that the generous royalty reduction we granted Konami was based on our trust in your company's product strength and market appeal."

Then his tone abruptly shifted, carrying an air of condescension.

"If you choose to retreat from even such small waves, then perhaps... we will need to reassess that 'trust,' as well as the corresponding 'preferential treatment.'" With that, the liaison hung up.

This was not merely questioning Konami's confidence. It was a threat to revise the royalty policy.

The Konami executive's fingers tightened slightly around the receiver, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He could clearly feel the pressure from Kyoto—a control that brooked no doubt.

After putting down the phone, he immediately reported the situation to Kozuki Kagemasa.

After hearing the report, Kozuki Kagemasa's face instantly darkened. He remained silent, unconsciously rubbing the smooth edge of his desk with his fingers.

This was Nintendo's rule.

Within its system, even Konami, at the height of its power, had to tread carefully and act according to its mood.

In the end, he merely waved a hand to indicate that he understood.

Endure.

For now, all he could do was endure.

Meanwhile, in Kyoto.

Inside the office area of Nintendo's first development division, the atmosphere was entirely different.

In stark contrast to the clamor of the outside market and the struggles of third-party developers, this place was filled with focused tension.

The lights were bright, and the air carried the peculiar mingled scent of circuit boards and coffee.

Developers bent over their workstations, while keyboard clatter and the beeps of testing equipment rose and fell around them.

Shigeru Miyamoto sat at his desk, carefully reviewing the final testing feedback report.

He examined every figure and every detail with meticulous care.

Once he had confirmed there were no errors, he picked up a pen and solemnly signed his name on a document bearing the words "The Legend of Zelda - Final Check."

The pen tip scratched softly across the paper.

That simple act marked the official completion, at that very moment, of The Legend of Zelda—a flagship title meant to support the Famicom Disk System, a work entrusted with countless efforts and expectations.

Shigeru Miyamoto set down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and let out a long breath. Exhaustion was plain on his face, yet a light still gleamed deep in his eyes.

Footsteps approached, and Yokoi Gunpei walked over with his trademark candid smile.

He picked up the The Legend of Zelda disk that had just completed its final testing, his eyes filled with excitement and admiration.

Through the testing process, he had already keenly felt just how extraordinary this game was.

The vast world of Hyrule, made possible by far surpassing the capacity limits of existing Famicom cartridges.

Exploration gameplay that combined depth and freedom.

Exquisite visuals and captivating music.

Every detail revealed the potential of a masterpiece.

Yokoi Gunpei gave Shigeru Miyamoto's shoulder a firm pat.

"Shigeru, excellent work!"

His voice was full of sincere praise and unwavering confidence.

"This is absolutely a groundbreaking work!"

He shook the disk in his hand, his eyes shining.

"With a masterpiece like The Legend of Zelda backing it up, I have more confidence than ever in the Disk System we're about to launch!"

"It's definitely going to be a huge hit!"

"We'll establish a new, unshakable benchmark in the home console market!"

Shigeru Miyamoto looked at Yokoi Gunpei, and a gratified smile appeared on his tired face as he nodded firmly.

Yes.

No matter how turbulent the outside world became, no matter what novel tricks their rivals came up with.

In the end, what determined victory or defeat would always be the strongest technology and the finest content in their own hands.

That was Nintendo's true trump card.