New Folder

"Tsk, what a pity."

Takuya shook his head and drew a horizontal line under the name <VirtualOn> with his pen.

This should be reserved for digital joysticks, or perhaps a dedicated arcade-specific dual-joystick peripheral should be developed to accommodate it.

Although it won't be needed this time, it's definitely a good project.

Takuya casually added a star next to the crossed-out name and wrote in small print: [Potential for future project approval].

Since the high-speed, skating-like combat of Virtual On is not suitable, let's do the opposite.

Takuya's pen hovered over the paper, the ink spreading to form a small black dot.

If going fast won't work, then we'll go slow.

The first thing that popped into his mind was the <Gundam VS> series.

That was definitely a great thing: two against two, awakening skills, and a barrage of projectiles flying everywhere.

But it was still a celebration of digital joysticks, still pure digital signal logic—all actions with maximum speed and rhythm, with no intermediate states.

It needs to be more hardcore and more realistic.

The scene shifts to a ruined city filled with the smoke of battle.

The heavy footsteps, the mechanical groans of the hydraulic rods, and the swaying view from the cockpit.

<Gundam Battle Operation>.

This is the perfect stage for simulating a joystick.

Takuya closed his eyes and imagined the scene:

You are piloting a heavy, general-purpose mech, hiding behind a half-collapsed building.

Radar indicated that enemy aircraft were approaching.

If it's a digital joystick, and you want to peek out, just push your finger, and the mech will stupidly shove half its body out of cover, instantly getting hit by two rockets.

But with an analog stick, you can push your thumb forward by just a millimeter.

The mech's servo motors received a weak current, and the hydraulic legs slowly lifted, causing the mech to move only half a body length outward.

Only the sensors on the head and the muzzle of the gun on the right arm are visible.

Lock on, fire, retract.

This is micro-management.

Another example is long-range sniping.

Aiming at a moving target at a distance with the D-pad is a disaster.

The crosshair either can't keep up with the target's movement speed, or it swings too far ahead as soon as it moves.

Players can only rely on luck through a mystical maneuver like "flicking the gun".

Simulated joysticks can provide smooth angular velocities.

With a light press of the thumb, the crosshair moves at an extremely slow speed, steadily locking onto the enemy aircraft.

This is the kind of game that can conquer a die-hard tech geek like Yu Suzuki.

Combining this with his earlier idea of "Virtual On," Takuya decided to develop "Gundam Battle Operation."

Takuya stared at the newly created folder on his computer, the image of Yamashina Makoto's conflicted face suddenly popped into his mind.

The "merger" bombshell he dropped at the premiere dinner that day must have really shocked the president of Bandai.

There has been no movement for a long time, presumably because the company is torn between the stubborn old guard and the harsh financial statements, unable to make a decision.

"But what if he sees this?"

Takuya tapped his fingers lightly on the table, making a rhythmic tapping sound.

This Gundam game, developed based on the Model 2 board and fully utilizing the features of the analog stick, should be able to Bandai's capabilities.

What is Bandai's game division doing now? Still making reskinned games for the Mega Drive and Super Famicom. If you put this game in front of Yamashina Makoto, the sheer scale of the blow would be enough to shatter the illusions of all the "self-developed" players within Bandai.

Bandai's technological capabilities are simply impossible to imitate.

Once this game is released, players' tastes will be thoroughly spoiled.

If Bandai releases those poorly made games again, they'll only be mercilessly criticized by the market.

Instead of waiting to be eliminated by the market, it's better to find a strong partner sooner rather than later.

This is not just a game project, but also an ultimatum forcing the issue out of the company.

Therefore, Nakayama Takuya named the newly created folder <MobileSuitGUNDAM: Battle>.

Operation>.

After writing down the general framework of the game's settings and gameplay, Takuya turned off the computer.

Thinking back on the games that had just flashed through his mind, Nakayama Takuya smiled helplessly.

It seems like every time a new console is about to be released, they start developing games non-stop.

Afterwards, Nakayama Takuya went to Hiroi Ouji's temporary office.

Today he will also meet with Hiroi Ouji to check on the current progress of Sakura Wars.

As the project progressed into its later stages, Hiroi Ouji spent less and less time in Sega's office, instead spending more time at Madhouse. Because Nakayama Takuya was constantly overseeing the game's development, he didn't come to the office as often.

Therefore, it is truly rare to be able to meet at the same time.

Nakayama Takuya sat down, Hiroi Ouji didn't beat around the bush.

He poured Takuya a cup of tea, and then went straight to talking about the progress of the anime and the live-action stage play.

"Madhouse has really gone all out this time." Hiroi Ouji didn't waste any words and pulled out a stack of production schedules from his bag. "Since they've decided to go straight to the TV version, that old man Maruyama Masao is really going all out, sending out everyone he can. Although it's inevitable that a lot of outsourcing has been done, they're keeping a close eye on the schedules, and so far, we can basically ensure that the production timeline will be fine."

Takuya casually flipped through a few pages and saw a large number of works completed on schedule. He nodded in satisfaction. "With such a large operation and so many outsourced projects, is the quality control okay? I hope they don't all end up with terrible artwork."

"Who dares?" Hiroi Ouji chuckled, leaning back on the sofa. "Who in the industry doesn't know that Sega is notoriously generous with its money these days? As long as the work is done well, their payment efficiency is legendary in the industry; they never delay payment. These outsourcing studios now treat our project like a sacred object, wanting to work 24/7, afraid that this golden goose will run away."

He paused, leaned forward, lowered his voice, and said with a gossipy look, "Besides, what happened with <Art of Fighting> really scared these guys out of their wits. Making an example of them was very effective."

Takuya raised an eyebrow, picked up his teacup, and blew away the foam. "You mean that greedy little workshop?"

"Exactly." Hiroi Ouji clicked his tongue twice, a hint of schadenfreude on his face. "That clueless studio owner thought we were rich and stupid, so he took on a bunch of projects all at once, and the characters in the finished films were so distorted they were unrecognizable. The production team was so angry they almost came to our door with knives, and our Legal Department even sent a lawyer's letter demanding compensation for breach of contract."

Hiroi Ouji held up his finger and made a "cut off" gesture. "I heard that the owner of that studio has gone back to his hometown to farm. Sega and Sunrise have joined forces to blacklist them, so who in this industry would dare to give them work? This is a bloody lesson from the past. Now, which outsourcing company that takes our orders isn't working with their head in their hands? They're terrified that if the quality of the artwork doesn't meet our standards, they'll be blacklisted and their livelihood will be completely cut off."

Takuya chuckled and took a sip of tea. This double insurance of "money-based warning" and "thunderous measures" was indeed more effective than any verbal warning.

As long as you pay enough and establish the rules, these people will naturally give it their all.