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"Oguchi." Nakayama Takuya interrupted him, pulling out the page with a close-up of the Jaguar controller and pushing it in front of his newly promoted deputy. "Never mind that damn 64-bit, take a look at this first."

Hisao Oguchi paused for a moment, then looked down at the controller, which was covered in buttons and looked as bulky as a brick.

"This row of number keys below—" Oguchi hesitated, "Is it for some complex commands?"

"Who knows?" Nakayama Takuya leaned back in his chair and chuckled softly. "The Tramiel Family is probably trying to tell us that playing their game requires a third hand, or maybe even a tongue."

Hisao Oguchi was amused by this sudden bit of sarcasm, his lips twitching slightly. His previously tense shoulders relaxed a bit, but the worry in his eyes hadn't completely disappeared. "But, the marketing gimmick brought about by the technical specifications—"

"Parameters are just numbers; the experience is what truly captivates players." Nakayama Takuya's smile faded, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table. "Who knows where they got that 64-bit configuration?"

He paused, then looked up at Hisao Oguchi.

This future key employee may not have adapted to his new position yet, but this matter is a good whetstone for him.

"However, since they're making such a big fuss, we can't just ignore them." Nakayama Takuya pushed the stack of documents to Oguchi. "I'm leaving this to you. Don't just look at those intimidating GG terms; dig up more information about their console, including their company's activities over the past few years. Also, find out their launch lineup."

"Yes, I'll contact the United States branch right away." Hisao Oguchi quickly pulled out his notebook, his pen flying across the page as he jotted down notes.

Kyoto, Nintendo Headquarters.

The steam rising from the teacup couldn't dispel the stagnant air in the meeting room.

An urgent briefing about "Atari Jaguar" was placed in the center of the table.

Atari ----

Yamauchi Hiroshi murmured the name in a low voice, as if he were chewing on a piece of dry, hard rice cake that had been sitting out for a long time.

None of the high-ranking officials present dared to respond easily.

How did Nintendo build its empire?

To put it bluntly, it was built on the site of the mass graves left after the collapse of Atari.

That once-dominant behemoth of the global gaming industry, even if reduced to nothing but skeletons, as long as its logo remains...

Its re-emergence still commands respect from Nintendo.

After all, no one wants to see a former emperor rise from his grave.

"What did Minoru Arakawa say?" Yamauchi Hiroshi raised his eyelids and glanced at Yokoi Gunpei, who was in charge of hardware development.

Yokoi Gunpei held the detailed intelligence that had just been faxed back from the United States in his hand. His previously furrowed brows relaxed, and he even had a strange expression that was hard to detect.

"Arakawa-san has confirmed it. The Atari of today is not the Atari of yesteryear." Yokoi Gunpei spread several pictures on the table. "Since being acquired by Jack Trammell in 1984, all that's left of the company is the name and a pile of unsold inventory. This so-called 64-bit console might just be a gamble to boost the stock price."

"Trammell?" Shigeru Miyamoto couldn't help but interject upon hearing the name, "The one who makes cheap calculators?"

"That's right." Yokoi Gunpei pointed to the oddly shaped handle in the spy photo. "Look at this."

All eyes turned to them.

It was a huge black handle, with 12 number keys densely arranged on the lower half, looking like a landline telephone had been forcibly crammed into the handle.

Shigeru Miyamoto paused for half a second, then couldn't help but burst out laughing, "What kind of design is this? Are they making players play a game, or make phone calls?"

The tense atmosphere in the meeting room instantly dissipated with that joke.

After listening, Yamauchi Hiroshi's tense shoulders relaxed.

He picked up his teacup and gently blew away the floating leaves.

Since it's a case of resurrection through another's body, there's nothing to fear.

"All specs, no soul." Yamauchi Hiroshi delivered his verdict, his tone regaining its usual autocratic arrogance. "Trammell may be a shrewd businessman, but he doesn't understand games. Ten years have passed, and he still thinks that just piling on hardware is enough to get players to spend money? Without a good game, even giving him a supercomputer wouldn't make anything fun."

He casually tossed the report aside, as if swatting away an annoying fly.

At Sony Headquarters in Tokyo at this time.

Compared to Nintendo's scrutiny burdened by history, Sony's attitude towards this "challenger" is more like watching a farcical spectacle that isn't funny at all.

Although Tramiel Technology Company is not a publicly traded company and its financial situation is kept strictly confidential, it is not difficult for a giant like Sony, which has terrifying control over the electronic component supply chain, to figure out the bottom line of a hardware manufacturer.

By simply checking who they ordered the chips from, how many orders they placed, and how long the payment cycle was, the true nature of this company will become clear.

An in-depth investigative report on Tramiel Technology Company is currently spread out on Norio Ohga's desk.

There were no thrilling business secrets, only a lot of meager information.

"Is this the company that claims it will disrupt the market with its 64-bit architecture?"

Ryoji Chubachi flipped through the few thin pages of the fax in his hand.

The data in the report was really terrible—the company's cash flow had been on the verge of drying up in recent years, and its R&D budget was pitifully small, even less than the marketing expenses of Sony's Walkman division in a single quarter.

"Jack Trammell is a shrewd cost-control master, or rather, a miser," Nobuyuki Idei, leaning against the window with a hint of sarcasm. "He was known for squeezing suppliers during his Commodore days, and it seems that even after taking over Atari, he hasn't changed that habit. According to our informants in Silicon Valley, many of Jaguar's core components are compromises made to save money, and the so-called 64-bit is more like a marketing ploy to cobble together two 32-bit chips."

Ken Kutaragi sat in the corner, fiddling with the Jaguar controller model he had brought from the United States.

Upon hearing this, he threw the brick-like object directly into the center of the table.

A crisp "clang" was heard.

"This thing even reeks of cheap plastic." Ken Kutaragi made no attempt to hide his disdain, pointing to the densely packed numeric keypad. "A phone keypad crammed into a controller? Are they trying to make players order pizza while playing a game? Only an amateur who doesn't understand games would come up with such an anti-human design."

He stood up and walked to the whiteboard, where a diagram of the PlayStation's architecture was drawn.

"Hardware development is a money-burning game. Without hundreds of millions of US dollar in continuous investment and top-notch chip customization capabilities, how can you expect to create a next-generation console just by talking about numbers?" Ken Kutaragi scoffed, making two heavy dots on the whiteboard with Mark marker. "That's an insult to engineers."

Norio Ohga rubbed his temples.

He had initially worried that this unexpected "Jaguar" might be a problem, but now it seems it was nothing more than a paper tiger.

"Since he's a penniless speculator, there's no need to waste our time."

Norio Ohga closed the report and tossed it aside.

The movement was so casual, as if he were just throwing away an expired supermarket flyer.

"Ignore Atari's clamor." Norio Ohga raised his head, his gaze sweeping across the room. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable air of authority. "Sony's most important task right now is to complete the Plane..."

Station.