Ginza! Ikebukuro! Shibuya! Akihabara!
Overnight, Sekiro posters blanketed Tokyo's major shopping districts!
They weren't everywhere, but the spots they hit? Prime real estate—impossible to miss.
The real gut-punch? A massive Sekiro poster slapped right on the video game building bankrolled by Komina!
Gamers worldwide lost it at the sight.
"?!"
"No way! I saw Sekiro chilling under Komina's logo…"
"What the hell?!"
"Is this… straight-up shade?"
"No lie, this is wild!"
"Yo, the yellow in WindyPeak's logo? It's the shade-throwing kind of yellow!"
"This is like sticking a middle finger on Komina's front door!"
"@GusHarper, you savage!"
"This is the pettiest flex in gaming history!"
"I legit thought it was photoshopped…"
"Too raw, hahaha!"
Tatsuya Moritani's gut feeling was dead-on.
WindyPeak's "retreat" from the overseas promo war was a fake-out, setting the stage for their Tokyo takeover!
Like Tatsuya said, no matter the tricks or hype, it all boils down to the games and the Tokyo International Game Festival.
From the jump, Gus Harper had his eyes on Tokyo—the ultimate battleground.
To steal the spotlight at the festival, you need to dominate Tokyo's promo scene. Problem is, Komina's got the city's ad channels locked down tight.
So, Gus huddled with WindyPeak's top brass and cooked up a plan: divide and conquer. Hit Komina's overseas markets hard, force them to spread their resources thin, then swoop into Tokyo with a blitzkrieg of cash and connections.
When the news broke, Komina's HQ erupted.
President Keizo Kamijo was livid, demanding that Sekiro's poster on the Komina building come down now!
But WindyPeak's Tokyo invasion was unstoppable.
The Tokyo International Game Festival had begun!
Three days later, amid the hype and cutthroat promo wars, Tokyo was buzzing.
Outside Hall 1 of the International Exhibition Center, a sea of gamers—every skin tone, every language—swarmed to join the party.
In the chaos, Tina Tate's voice crackled with excitement. "Hey, folks, Tina Tate here with Tate's Gaming Scoop, live from the festival!"
She raised her mic to the camera. "I'm at the entrance of Tokyo's International Exhibition Hall. Word is, this year's show is bigger than ever—nearly 720 game developers from across the globe are here, with over 200,000 gamers and media joining the madness."
Pausing for breath, she went on, "Alongside heavyweights like Komina and Vivendi, you've got big players like Fury Games, Thunder Interactive, and Glory Studios dropping their flagship titles. But let's be real—the one stealing the show? WindyPeak Games."
"If you've been following our live feed, you've seen it: Sekiro and Torii: Phantom of the Ghost are plastered across Tokyo's hottest ad spots. These two are being called 'the festival's must-play projects' by media worldwide."
"Torii's next-gen FPS design is turning heads, while Sekiro's got this mysterious aura and insane hype. So, which one's the champ? What's the vibe? Stay tuned—we're about to find out."
Meanwhile, in the packed crowd, a guy with a GoPro on a stick waved at his viewers. "Yo, what's good? I'm live at the Tokyo Game Festival!"
He was mid-20s, rocking a baseball cap, sharp brows, deep-set eyes, and a styled beard. It was Pew, the streamer, back at the festival.
His chat was as wild as the crowd:
"Bet there's a ton of horror games this year."
"Pew's gonna play 'em all (smirk)."
"I'm hyped for Torii—Komina's suspenseful 3S FPS masterpiece."
"Nah, I need Sekiro ASAP."
"Sekiro's a total mystery. What even is it?"
"Wolf gang!"
"Torii squad!"
"Wolf all the way…"
The chat split into two camps: one itching to unravel Sekiro's gameplay, the other stoked for Torii's FPS flair.
"Alright, chill, y'all," Pew said, waving at the camera. "I don't call the shots here."
He spun the GoPro, showing the mob of fans boxing him in. He half-joked he could lift his feet and still not fall.
Then, a roar erupted from the front of the line near the hall's entrance.
The crowd surged like a tidal wave. Pew, hyped, raised his GoPro. "Zombie horde incoming!"
The festival was on!
Inside, warm air from the AC hit like a cozy blanket.
Tina Tate kept the commentary rolling. "Check it out—on our left, that white-and-green booth is Vivendi's. They're showing off two bangers: a multiplayer shooter and a racing game going head-to-head with Komina's Hot Spot Rally: Return."
The camera panned past a sea of heads to the red-and-white Komina booth. "And here's Komina," Tina said. "Besides Hot Spot Rally and Wild Slam Dunk EX, their big gun is the 3S shooter Torii: Phantom of the Ghost, clocking in at over $200 million."
Right then, a cinematic trailer fired up on Komina's massive screen.
Unlike stuffy industry conferences, game expos like this skip the long speeches. It's all about looping trailers, maybe some quick dance acts or raffles to hook players.
But for a titan like Komina? No need for gimmicks. Their early hype did the work. As soon as Torii's logo flashed, players and media swarmed the booth, craning to see the screen.
The trailer kicked off: a first-person view on a neon-lit street, wet from recent rain.
A voice-over boomed: "For Torii, we used the cutting-edge Phoenix-2 engine. From the big picture to the tiniest details, we pushed for perfection."
The protagonist moved, footsteps splashing in puddles, rippling neon reflections. Raindrops glistened, grass swayed, even the lines on the hero's palms and arm hairs popped.
Komina's visuals were next-level, maxing out industry standards for somatosensory cabins.
"Gameplay-wise," the voice-over continued, "players ditch guns for exorcism powers."
The hero approached two faceless figures with umbrellas. He formed hand seals, green energy swirling in his palms. The ghosts charged with roars.
"Ha!" The hero unleashed wind blades, blasting the ghosts back. His seals shifted, blue energy surging, turning raindrops into needle-like projectiles. The ghosts staggered.
Another seal, and golden threads bound the monsters, yanking them close. The hero's right hand plunged into their chests.
Boom! Crystal cores shattered, and the ghosts dissolved into smoke.
"Whoa!" The crowd gasped, buzzing.
"That's slick…"
"Those visuals? Top-tier. And the spell system's dope."
"World-class graphics, no cap."
"Wind, thunder, water, fire, earth—those spells got elements."
"Onmyoji in a VR cabin? That's fresh."
"Combat feels… kinda flat, though."
"Yeah, the enemies barely fight back."
"Looks flashy, but it's just main quests plus side stuff."
"Atmosphere's solid, though…"
Players debated as they watched Torii's gameplay demo. Many lined up to try it, drawn by the stunning visuals and unique "no-guns" shooting vibe.
Cheers erupted, especially when a mini-boss—a suited guy with an umbrella and sledgehammer—showed up. The hero's spell combos clashed with the boss's hammer swings, earning nods from the crowd.
When the hero's energy bar maxed out, unleashing a fiery spell, the booth hit a fever pitch.
Novelty and flash were Torii's bread and butter.
"Komina's Torii is impressing folks," Tina said. "World-class graphics and fresh combat? It's a vibe. I bet—"
Clang!
A sharp, metallic sound cut through the air from behind Komina's booth.
Torii was in a quiet "stealth kill" segment, making the clang stand out like a gunshot.
Tina froze. Players turned.
Then, a barrage of metal-on-metal clashes rang out—ding, ding, clang, ting, ting!—like a knight's duel or a blacksmith's hammer.
Screams and cheers exploded from the source.
"OHHHH!"
"Holy—! What is that?!"
"DNM, that's insane!"
The uproar jolted Tina. She craned her neck, then locked eyes with her cameraman, both stunned.
What was going on?
That booth was popping off.