Takuya straightened his back, the relaxed warmth he showed with family fading, replaced by a sharp, focused intensity, his eyes bright like a honed lens.
"Father, Katsuya," he began, his voice clear and steady, resonating in the quiet study. "The multi-platform development and release of Tetris will indeed bring significant short-term profits and improve Sega's image among players, especially beyond arcades. But, as you said, this only addresses the immediate crisis, buying us time and resources."
"To truly shift the tides and turn the situation around, we need a long-term, aggressive strategy—a combination of punches."
Hayao said nothing, his deep, well-like eyes fixed on Takuya, fingers lightly tapping the armrest, signaling him to continue.
Katsuya listened with full attention.
"I believe Sega must act on five fronts simultaneously," Takuya said, raising one finger.
"First, technological leap."
"We must immediately and discreetly start developing a next-generation 16-bit home console."
"The goal is singular: to surpass Nintendo's Famicom in core performance, creating a crushing technological advantage."
"When our 16-bit console launches, the Famicom should feel like a relic of a bygone era."
The proposal made Katsuya's eyebrow twitch. Even as a non-gaming professional, he knew this was no small investment.
Takuya raised a second finger.
"Second, software reserves."
"Alongside the 16-bit console's development, we must aggressively develop arcade games for a new 16-bit board."
"These games will first generate profits in arcades, but more importantly, they'll form a 'munitions stockpile' for our future 16-bit console."
"When the console launches, we can quickly port these proven arcade hits, ensuring a strong launch lineup and avoiding a software drought."
He paused, raising a third finger.
"Third, cash is king."
"Developing a 16-bit console, marketing it, and supporting software development all require massive funds."
"Our existing business lines, especially the profitable arcade sales and partnerships with companies like CSK, must remain robust and even expand beyond gaming. Sega's strong hardware and software capabilities shouldn't be limited to games alone."
"We must secure ample cash flow and reserves—the foundation for winning this battle."
Hayao's fingers tapped slowly on the armrest, his pace deliberate, showing he was listening and weighing the words.
Takuya raised a fourth finger, his tone sharpening.
"Fourth, external disruption."
"We can't let Nintendo expand comfortably, especially in their critical North American market."
"We must use every tool—marketing, PR campaigns, channel competition, even 'unconventional' methods—to delay, disrupt, or sabotage Nintendo's NES rollout."
"The goal is to drain their resources and reputation, buying time and space for our 16-bit console. When it hits North America, the market must not be a monolithic fortress."
The unapologetic aggression in his words thickened the air. Katsuya's gaze held surprise and a hint of concern.
Takuya raised his final finger, his eyes blazing.
"Fifth, divide and conquer."
"Nintendo may seem invincible, but they have weaknesses. Their third-party developer policies are notoriously harsh—high royalties, strict content reviews, and controlled cartridge production, shifting nearly all risks to developers. There's bound to be resentment."
"This is our opening."
"We must reach out to dissatisfied or suppressed third-party developers, trying to sway key players or at least destabilize their ties with Nintendo."
"We need to dismantle the Famicom's robust software ecosystem, weakening their core strength while bolstering ours."
The five-point strategy laid out, the study fell into a long silence.
Takuya's plan was bold, aggressive, interlinked, fraught with risks, yet it charted a thorny path to potential victory.
Katsuya stared at his brother, stunned. He never imagined the usually carefree Takuya could devise such a grand, combative business strategy, elevating beyond mere game development to company-wide vision.
Hayao's gaze, deep as the sea, rested on Takuya, his chair reclined, fingers still, his sharp eyes reassessing his youngest son.
A technological leap, software reserves, financial security, external disruption, internal division—each step was daunting, and together, they tested Sega's resources, execution, and resolve.
After a long pause, Hayao spoke, his voice low and forceful.
"A 16-bit console… disrupting North America… swaying third parties…"
He repeated key points, as if weighing their gravity.
"Your moves are interlocked, but each demands significant resources, and some will test Sega's unity."
He neither endorsed nor opposed, his tone less skeptical, now heavy with unprecedented gravity and thought.
After another silence, he asked, "You mentioned disrupting North America… how exactly do you plan to do that?"
The question was specific, moving from broad testing to probing feasibility.
Takuya didn't answer immediately, meeting his father's scrutinizing gaze with calm confidence.
Hayao watched him, then slowly stood, pacing to the window, facing the dark night, his back to his sons.
"Forget it. This strategy… needs long-term consideration. You don't need to get involved in board matters yet. I'll discuss North America with David."
His voice carried faint fatigue but also resolve.
"But your direction… might be right."
"Some things, whether we act or not, we'll have to face eventually."
He gave no clear approval or rejection.
Yet his words hinted at a reevaluation of Sega's conservative approach and a serious consideration of Takuya's bold vision.
The study's atmosphere shifted subtly in the silence.
"So, what are your personal plans?" Hayao asked, turning back to Takuya.