Sato Hideki paced anxiously before the workbench, his rubber soles scraping against the anti-static floor and producing a teeth-grating
"squeak, squeak" sound.
Screen size and ultimate battery life were like fish and bear's paw—he had to make a brutal choice now.
He took a deep breath, picked up the internal phone on the desk, and dialed the direct line to the president's office.
"Executive Director, the final power-consumption test results are in." Sato Hideki got straight to the point, unable to hide the conflict in his voice. "The data is rather extremely split. You may need to come take a look and make the call yourself."
Ten minutes later, the laboratory's heavy soundproof door was pushed open.
Nakayama Takuya, dressed in a well-tailored casual suit, strode briskly over to the workbench with an easy gait.
"What is it, Sato? I could smell the panic in this room from the hallway." Nakayama Takuya pulled over a folding chair and sat down casually, cracking a joke as he picked up the report from the desk.
Sato Hideki gave a bitter smile and pointed at the two prototype units on the bench.
"The 3.0-inch version broke through the twenty-hour battery-life barrier. It's practically a miracle." Sato Hideki tapped the glaring figure circled in red on the report. "But the 3.5-inch version only lasts fourteen hours and fifteen minutes."
Nakayama Takuya quickly scanned the report, his long fingers lightly tapping twice on the "20 hours" figure with two crisp knocks.
"So what are you torn over?" Nakayama Takuya looked up, a light that seemed to see through everything gleaming in his deep eyes.
Sato Hideki pulled over another chair and sat down, clasping his hands tightly together. His palms were drenched in sweat.
"Executive Director, the visual impact of 3.5 inches is just too