In late July, Tokyo was in the grip of the most unbearable heat of the year. Even the wind carried an irritating, scorching burn.
Yet on the top floor of Sega Headquarters, in the First Conference Room, the scene was entirely different.
The powerful central air conditioning ran steadily, completely shutting out the heat outside.
On either side of the broad oval mahogany conference table, the legal and finance personnel of Sega and Sotsu sat upright, conducting the final verification of the documents.
The soft rustle of turning paper was especially clear in the quiet room, every sound seeming to tap against the hearts of those present.
Matsushima sat at the head of the guest seats, his hands folded on the table as his fingers unconsciously rubbed the thumbnail of his other hand.
He turned and glanced at Suzuki beside him.
Suzuki was staring fixedly at the thick final acquisition agreement before him, his gaze locked on the section labeled "equity exchange ratio." His Adam's apple bobbed violently, and even his breathing had grown somewhat heavy.
Over the past month, Sega's share price on the Tokyo Stock Exchange had been like a rocket, soaring all the way upward and repeatedly smashing historical highs.
With the stunning launch of the Universal Engine at E3, along with Sega consoles' strong sales in the North American market, institutional investors around the world had fallen into an almost frenzied scramble for shares.
These old Sotsu shareholders knew perfectly well that the Sega stock they were about to receive was already worth a full thirty percent more than it had been during the negotiations at the Atami hot springs!
That was tens of billions in cold, hard cash! At the thought, Suzuki even felt his blood pressure soaring. He was immensely grateful that he had