Father of Yakuza

Toshihiro Nagoshi's eyes lit up. He had always been interested in that sort of underworld flavor, but he had never dared bring it up inside Sega, a company that now already leaned somewhat toward "all ages."

"I want you to make a game about real men." Nakayama Takuya stared at Nagoshi. "Not some fairy tale about carrying a lightsaber to save a princess, but a realistic story mixed with the smell of smoke, blood, and cheap perfume. The protagonist is a yakuza, and the setting will be Tokyo's most bustling red-light district."

"But—the company's image—" Nagoshi hesitated.

"Nintendo's own games are completely geared toward younger audiences. On the market, games aimed at the mindset of true adults are rarer than phoenix feathers and unicorn horns. We need to grab hold of those middle-aged men who want somewhere to vent after getting off work." Nakayama Takuya stubbed out his cigarette. "I've even thought of the name. We'll call it Yakuza."

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Nagoshi murmured those words under his breath, and the more he repeated them, the more fired up he felt. But soon he showed a troubled look again. "Executive Director, I do yearn for that kind of brotherhood, but if I really have to write the script, I don't even know what liquor they drink or how they cut off fingers. I can't exactly go to Kabukicho and find a boss to interview, can I? I'd get hacked to death."

Nakayama Takuya could not help laughing. He leaned in a little and lowered his voice. "That is the secret weapon I'm giving you today. Go to the Asset Investment Department