Then look at the current elder statesman of the industry, Konami—they could not even get a basic top-down shooter right.
Nakayama Takuya's vision and nerve were more than a hundred times sharper than those hidebound producers at the old major studios.
"How are this game's sales on our Jupiter platform?" Nakayama Takuya asked casually.
"Very average. You could even call them terrible."
Hisao Oguchi answered truthfully, "Players simply aren't buying this kind of shoddy, slapdash 3D game. Plenty of people would rather drop coins in an arcade and play Dead or Alive, appreciating those female characters'—uh, physical feedback, than spend a large sum on a disc that makes them suffer."
When Nakayama Takuya heard that, he could not help laughing softly. "Tomonobu Itagaki's clever ideas" were far more appealing than the rotten, unfinished building Konami had put up. At least he understood what players wanted.
"Managing Director, should we take advantage of Konami's major failure this time and make something of it in PR? Give them a knock?" Hisao Oguchi asked tentatively.
"No need to do anything." Nakayama Takuya waved a hand and turned his gaze toward the bustling Tokyo streetscape outside the floor-to-ceiling window, his tone calm yet full of confidence. "Players' eyes are bright as snow. Konami smashed its own signboard with its own hands; if we go step on it, it only makes us look beneath ourselves. We just need to proceed step by step, make our own games well, and build our ecosystem bigger. The market share left empty by their decline will naturally flow into our pockets."
Just as Nakayama Takuya expected, Contra: Legacy of War's sales only saw a brief surge in the first week on the fading prestige of its IP, then welcomed a disastrous cliff-like plunge.
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