Sega's Third Development Department buzzed with a mix of fervor and tension.
The handheld version of Tetris had passed final testing and was sent to production for a summer release, aiming to capture students' pocket money during vacation.
Takuya Nakayama stood at the center of the workspace, his gaze sweeping over young faces alight with excitement and a hint of unease.
"Everyone," Takuya began, his voice soft but clear, reaching every ear. "I know the pressure's high."
He paused, a slight smile breaking through, like winter sunlight easing the strain. "After all, we're making a game unlike anything before."
"But trust me, if we work together, we'll create a miracle." His tone was firm. "We've done extensive prep and have a solid development plan."
His words injected vigor into the team. Group Leader Shimizu, standing beside him, felt the morale lift and cleared his throat, his voice booming. "Alright, everyone, let's get to work!"
"Takuya-san has laid out a detailed plan. Now, we move forward step by step!"
Programmers returned to their stations, fingers dancing on keyboards, clicks like rapid drumbeats. The art team huddled around Masami Kurumada's character design drafts, gesturing animatedly, sparks of inspiration flying.
Takuya knew the hardest part was starting. The core of a fighting game lay in precise hitbox detection. To help the art team configure attack and hitboxes intuitively, he decided to lead the development of an internal tool, codenamed "Collision Configurator."
"Group Leader Shimizu, Oyama-san," Takuya approached two top programmers, his tone earnest. "Please help me develop this tool."
"No problem, Takuya-san. We're all in," Shimizu agreed promptly, Oyama nodding in support.
For days, the department burned the midnight oil. Takuya, Shimizu, and Oyama practically lived there, debating, testing, and refining code. From handling massive frame data to ensuring the editor's precision and usability, even hitbox shapes sparked heated discussions.
"I think complex shapes would simulate collisions better," Oyama insisted, a technical perfectionist.
"But complex shapes increase computation, hurting performance," Shimizu countered, prioritizing smooth gameplay.
Takuya pondered, then said, "Let's use rectangular hitboxes as the base, stacking multiple rectangles for the overall collision block. They don't need to match character outlines exactly, leaving room for manual tweaks to fit all animations. This balances precision and performance."
He explained further. "For edges like hair or clothing, we can simplify."
Shimizu and Oyama nodded, seeing the logic—a sweet spot between accuracy and efficiency. They began coding to Takuya's plan.
After two sleepless weeks, the editor's core functions took shape. The interface was rough, functionality limited, but it could import simple pixel sequences and configure basic hitboxes.
In a demo, Takuya loaded a stick-figure punching animation, successfully setting hitboxes. When the fist struck the "target," the screen clearly showed the collision zones. "It worked!" The department erupted in modest but heartfelt cheers, marking a milestone for Fatal Fury.
Meanwhile, the team explored the Pre-System 16 board's capabilities. Takuya insisted on maximizing the dual M68000 CPUs for a smooth 60Hz battle frame rate. "60Hz?" a young programmer questioned. "Takuya-san, most arcade games run at 30Hz or less. Isn't 60Hz pushing it?"
"I know it's tough," Takuya acknowledged, resolute. "But for fighting games, high frame rates are critical."
"Higher frame rates mean faster input response, precise detection, and room for animation and balance tweaks," he explained. "Only then can players feel the true thrill of fighting."
"We must push the Pre-System 16's limits to ensure intense battles don't drop frames. That's why I kept the collision configurator's calculations lean."
The programmers, inspired by Takuya's resolve, committed fully. But optimizing code to tap the Pre-System 16's power while preserving visuals was their biggest hurdle.
A young programmer, stuck on CPU allocation, scratched his head in frustration. Takuya leaned in, reviewed the code, and asked about his approach. "Here, try cutting redundant background calculations," Takuya suggested, pointing to a line. "Precompute this data at game start instead of every frame."
The programmer's eyes lit up, and the fix worked swiftly. "Thank you, Takuya-san!" he said gratefully.
"No problem, keep it up!" Takuya grinned. "If you're stuck, we'll brainstorm together."
After weeks of optimization, the team mastered the Pre-System 16's quirks. They offloaded backgrounds and UI to an added Zilog Z80 CPU, letting the Motorola 68000 focus on character animations, battle logic, and hitbox calculations. Initial tests hit a stable 50Hz+, nearing the 60Hz goal.
While the tech team tackled challenges, the art team worked feverishly on character pixel art. Using Takuya's references and videos of various fighting styles, they drafted pixel sketches and key frames in a "gritty, passionate" style.
Reviewing the drafts, Takuya saw solid fundamentals but a gap from his vision of "visceral impact" and unique dynamism.
"You're doing great, but it's not enough," Takuya said gently to the art team.
"Fighting game actions aren't just pose changes—they need power and impact."
He picked up a sketch of a character's punch. "This fist looks soft, lacking strength."
"We need bolder lines and vibrant colors to convey speed and force. Resolution's limited, but manga-style speed lines can help."
To clarify, Takuya sketched a simple diagram, showing how to use limited frames for visual deception.
He stressed the "startup, active, recovery" phases in animation. "These three stages are essential. Varying frame counts per phase can show rhythm and weight. Add delay frames on hits with impact effects to make players feel the punch."
The art team, enlightened, began revising per Takuya's guidance.
Watching his driven team, Takuya brimmed with confidence.