At first, the two players were tentative, their movements slightly awkward. But as the first "garbage line" appeared, the atmosphere grew tense.
The meeting room, once quiet or filled with murmurs, now buzzed with the intensity of spectating. Everyone was captivated by the rapidly shifting dynamics on the screen.
Both players sped up, desperate to clear more lines and pile trouble onto their opponent.
Finally, a long tetromino couldn't fit, stacking to the top.
"Game Over!"
Takuya Nakayama watched the lively scene, a slight smile tugging at his lips.
In just a few minutes, the demo had transformed the room's atmosphere.
Seeing the glint in everyone's eyes, Takuya Nakayama knew the moment was ripe.
He paused the game demo, stood tall, and scanned the faces of the Sega executives.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is my first gift to Sega—Tetris. I propose adding a recognizable subtitle, Russian Blocks, to draw players with the allure of a game from behind the Iron Curtain, along with its 'Sega Versus Edition.'"
"But a good game alone isn't enough."
His tone turned serious and deliberate.
"First, the matter of copyright."
He looked at the head of the legal department.
"This game's prototype originates from the Soviet Union. We must act immediately, through official channels, to negotiate with the Soviet side. As we all know, communist countries like the Soviet Union don't recognize intellectual property rights, but our game will be sold in Japan and the Western world, where intellectual property is the core commercial rule. We need to contact their Foreign Trade Committee and purchase the rights."
He specifically mentioned the "Foreign Trade Committee", showing he wasn't unprepared.
"We're not after rights for a single platform but exclusive global rights across all known and future platforms! We need undisputed ownership to clear all legal hurdles for global promotion."
Emphasizing the importance of copyright and the pursuit of "all platforms" and "exclusivity" earned quiet nods from some seasoned executives.
"Second, platform strategy."
He switched the projector to display a simple planning chart.
"The arcade platform will be our first stop."
"The arcade version is faster-paced, more competitive, and can quickly validate gameplay, build reputation, and generate direct cash flow."
"But that's just the start."
He pointed to the next section of the chart.
"We should simultaneously plan for a console version. I know our current consoles face performance and market challenges, but supporting our own platform is a must. The game itself isn't complex, so porting Tetris is technically feasible with manageable resources."
Finally, his finger landed on the chart's end, an area many hadn't yet considered.
"In the long term, I believe Tetris's true breakout potential lies in future handheld gaming platforms!"
Handhelds?
The concept made some frown slightly.
"Everyone's seen Nintendo's Game & Watch. Tetris's content and scope are perfectly suited for such platforms. We need to cover all platforms comprehensively to maximize profits for the company."
"When I was developing this, my sister tested it. She's not usually interested in Sega's other games, but she played Tetris for an entire afternoon. This suggests that Tetris has an appeal to women, like board games. Our current gaming audience is mostly male, so attracting women is a blue ocean market. And women playing will draw more men, expanding the audience further."
"Imagine," Takuya Nakayama's voice carried a visionary fervor, "future players—men, women, young, old—pulling out portable devices, connecting via cables, and battling in Tetris anytime, anywhere. Human-versus-human competition is far more dynamic than playing against a preset program, making the game endlessly replayable."
"This isn't just a game—it's a new social experience! A cultural phenomenon!"
The room fell silent.
Everyone was drawn into the blueprint he painted, pondering its possibilities.
From a crude Soviet program to a grand plan spanning arcades, consoles, and future handhelds, emphasizing global exclusive rights and social appeal.
This new "deputy team leader" brought far more than just a game.
Hayao Nakayama listened quietly, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.
Now, he finally looked up, his sharp gaze locking onto his son, something stirring in its depths.
He didn't speak immediately, but when he did, his voice carried undeniable authority, resonating in the quiet room.
"Regarding copyright negotiations," Hayao Nakayama's gaze shifted to the head of international business, a middle-aged man with gold-rimmed glasses and a serious expression, "International Business, take the lead. Takuya," he turned to his son, "provide initial information and direction. Get a feasible plan for the Soviets quickly. I want results."
The international business head bowed slightly. "Yes, President. We'll form a task force immediately." He turned to Takuya. "Please, Deputy Team Leader Nakayama, share your gathered information and channels with us after the meeting." Takuya nodded noncommittally.
Hayao Nakayama continued, "Legal Department, ensure thorough scrutiny. Don't let the Soviets or anyone else exploit loopholes. We must secure global rights."
"Yes, President," the legal head responded, bowing.
"For development," he looked at the development department head, "Third Development Team, use Takuya's plan as the foundation. Form a Tetris project team immediately, prioritizing the arcade version. Coordinate with the hardware team for technical support."
"Yes, President!" the Third Development Team leader replied promptly.
"And one more thing," Hayao Nakayama added, "I shouldn't need to stress confidentiality. I don't want a simple copyright acquisition to spiral into unnecessary complications or costs."
"Hai!" Everyone nodded in agreement.
With a few concise sentences, he set the tone for this ambitious plan.
The room's atmosphere shifted subtly.
Skepticism and scrutiny toward Takuya Nakayama began to give way to a mix of surprise, curiosity, and even a hint of anticipation.
This young man might actually have something. And behind him stood Hayao Nakayama himself.
Takuya Nakayama felt a quiet confidence, but he knew this was merely his entry ticket.