Sega headquarters, top-floor conference room.
A thick stack of documents and a pile of newspaper clippings lay spread out before Nakayama Takuya.
They were a nationwide first-day summary from every competition zone, compiled overnight by the operations team, packed with detailed data and illustrated reports.
The early promotional results had been excellent. Foot traffic had far exceeded expectations, positive media coverage was overwhelming, and Sega's stock price had even risen by a small wave along with it.
The "discovering grassroots heroes" plan he had envisioned was also beginning to show results. Names like Bai Ye had already started circulating among players and a small portion of the media, and some people had even begun asking where his venue was.
The plan was advancing according to his most optimistic expectations.
But the satisfaction on his face did not last long.
The report also contained a few discordant notes, marked out by the operations team in red pen.
Some smaller partner arcades, overwhelmed by the sudden surge in customers, simply could not keep up with machine maintenance. Joysticks had malfunctioned, buttons had become sticky, and it had provoked dissatisfaction and fierce complaints from contestants. A few matches had even been replayed because of it.
"One contestant couldn't make a defensive move because the joystick failed at a crucial moment. He got carried away by a full combo, and he was so furious on the spot he nearly snapped the joystick in half," a subordinate added.
Some social commentary sections had begun trotting out the same old arguments about "guarding against teenagers becoming addicted to video games." Though they were temporarily being suppressed by the tournament's popularity, there was a sour tang seeping between the lines, ready to ferment at any moment.
What made his brows knit even tighter was that scattered reports