"Where did the next-generation consoles go?" David pointed at the Enix staff onstage, who were clearing out. "A full twenty minutes, and they announced five games. All of them for 16-bit platforms."
Paul stopped what he was doing.
Several Japanese media people in the front row had also gathered together, whispering among themselves.
The colleague who had leapt to his feet in excitement for Sakura Wars 2 was clutching his hair, his face full of confusion.
"The Nintendo 64 is only a few months away from release," David said at breakneck speed. "As Nintendo's most important third-party ally, Enix didn't even show a single concept image for the new console. Forget a live demo—there wasn't even a whiff of a new project."
This was an extremely abnormal phenomenon.
At E3 in 1996, every manufacturer was desperately showing off 3D technology. Even if it was only a video, they still had to prove to investors and players that they had secured a ticket aboard the ship to the next generation.
Enix, of all companies, had gone against the current and put a heap of old-era cartridges onstage.
"Squeezing the last bit of remaining value out of the Super Famicom is one thing. Completely giving up on next-generation promotion is another." Paul rubbed his chin. "Even if the N64's cartridge capacity limits are severe and development is difficult, they shouldn't be playing deaf and mute at such an important show. What about the mainline sequel to Dragon Quest? They at least have to paint some big pie for players to look at."
A piece of gossip David had heard at the news center a few weeks earlier flashed through his mind.
"Do you remember that rumor from Bloomberg's Tokyo bureau last month?" David leaned closer to Paul. "Enix's executive team spent an