Director Hattori wore a loose, comfortable dark yukata and sat cross-legged in the seat of honor.
The old man wore no reading glasses, his eyes narrowed slightly, his demeanor so relaxed that he truly seemed to have come on vacation.
Honda from Daiwa Securities sat ramrod-straight in a crisp suit at his rear flank, the perfect second-in-command.
Across from them sat Sotsu's vice president, Matsushima, along with four other gray-haired core shareholders whose slightest stomp could make the copyright agency world quake.
After three rounds of wine and five flavors of food.
With the pleasant haze of alcohol and the uniquely relaxing atmosphere of the hot-spring inn, the mood had grown far warmer than the restraint and mutual wariness that had filled the room when they first entered.
Matsushima set down his delicate white porcelain sake cup. His cheeks were faintly flushed from the alcohol, but his deep-set eyes remained shrewd and bright.
"Director Hattori." Matsushima cleared his throat, knowing the moment was ripe, and took the initiative to get to the point. "After returning, Matsushima truthfully conveyed Sega's sincerity to all the shareholders. That Pokémon revenue report—indeed opened our eyes. Sega Galaxy's future pan-entertainment plans are grand enough to swallow mountains and rivers. To speak from the heart, they truly are tempting."
A plump old man seated beside Matsushima let out a cold snort and took over.
He was another major Sotsu shareholder, Suzuki, a man always known for speaking bluntly.
"Tempting is one thing, but we have our concerns." Suzuki planted both hands heavily on his knees, leaned forward slightly, and fixed Hattori with a sharp gaze. "The Sotsu name was built by us old fellows over decades, one mouthful of rice at a time. Sega is wealthy and powerful now—even Sunrise can be swallowed in one bite.