Kyoto, Nintendo headquarters, president's office.
The air in Hiroshi Yamauchi's office was colder than Hudson Soft's president's office days earlier, as if September's lingering heat was entirely shut out.
A report on Metroid's first-week sales lay quietly on his desk. The numbers weren't poor but fell far short of his expectations.
Gunpei Yokoi stood before the desk, expression calm, though his tight lips betrayed inner turmoil.
Metroid, his creation, earned critical acclaim, with praise surpassing some contemporaries.
Yet, the market's response didn't match.
"Yokoi-kun," Yamauchi's voice was low, its tone unreadable but heavy with authority.
"The Fatal Fury finals, I hear, set a new ratings record for Fuji TV's daytime slot."
He didn't mention Metroid's sales directly.
Yokoi dipped his head slightly.
"Yes, President. Sega's tournament, with its marketing and commercial synergy, was a resounding success. Beyond Sega, sponsors and distributors reaped benefits—it wasn't just a loss-leader for publicity."
Yamauchi's fingertips tapped the luxurious wooden desk, each dull thud resonating.
"Players' attention is finite."
"Even our best products, if they don't seize eyes immediately, get buried."
"I need works that shake the market, that crush rivals, paired with aggressive promotion. Don't fear spending—nobody in this industry outearns Nintendo."
Yokoi felt a chill.
The president's message was clear: dissatisfaction with Metroid's performance, frustration with the marketing team, and a harsh demand for his development team to aim higher. It had been years since Yamauchi pressed him this hard, especially post-Famicom success.
Sega's triumph was a thorn in Yamauchi's side.
At the same time, in Tokyo, Hudson Soft headquarters.
Hiroshi Kudo's office was shrouded in gloom.
Adventure Island launched in early September as scheduled, under Nintendo's reduced cartridge quota.
Yuji Kudo entered, sales report in hand, steps heavy.
The thin paper felt like a thousand pounds.
He placed it gently on his brother's desk, the sound muted but heavy.
"Brother…" Yuji's voice held a faint hoarseness, far from his usual decisiveness.
Hiroshi's gaze shifted from the window to the report.
Each word pierced like a red-hot needle, stabbing his eyes and heart.
The office air felt bleaker than the early autumn outside.
"Speak," Hiroshi said, voice calm, betraying little.
Yuji took a deep breath, as if to dispel the knot in his chest.
"It's… worse than we feared."
"Akihabara's biggest electronics stores called, complaining about players' anger over Adventure Island shortages."
"Some shops had lines, only to tell customers 'out of stock.' Players argued with staff on the spot."
"Worse, some said Hudson's slipping, unable to keep up with cartridge production."
"Retail channels report that, unable to buy Adventure Island, some players bought Nintendo's Metroid instead."
Hiroshi's eyebrow twitched. A bitter smile, uglier than a grimace, crossed his face.
Yuji continued, "Brother, this is a huge blow."
"Players' patience is limited. Once they think 'Hudson's done' or 'Hudson's too big to care,' reversing that perception is near impossible."
"Our massive marketing push and Takahashi Meijin's tireless offline events built huge hype, but now it's backfiring."
"The higher the expectations, the deeper the disappointment and anger when they crash."
Hiroshi's clenched fists whitened, knuckles straining. "As I feared."
He exhaled heavily, rage and frustration churning.
His fiery gaze cooled into icy resolve.
"Nintendo's forcing our hand."
His voice was low but clear, edged with frost.
"They think cutting our quota will make us grovel, forever their docile sheep, counting their money?"
A cold smirk curved his lips.
"Dream on."
He looked up, eyes like blades, locking onto his brother.
"Yuji, we can't wait on NEC any longer."
"Yamauchi wants to strangle us with the Famicom's leash—we'll break free and show him!"
"Tell them our sincerity and our resolve."
"This 'iron collar' has choked us too long. It's time to breathe."
Hiroshi stood, walking to the window, gazing at the bustling traffic below.
"The Famicom's reign may last a while, but Hudson's new chapter must be written by our own hands."
Yuji's eyes gleamed with suppressed excitement and determination, nodding firmly.
"I understand, Brother!"
He turned, strode to the desk, and picked up the phone, fingers swiftly dialing a number.
The call connected quickly.
"Hello, this is Yuji Kudo from Hudson."
He paused, listening.
"Yes, Mr. Ishihara? Sorry to disturb you during your busy schedule."
His tone remained respectful, but a tremor of excitement broke through.
"Regarding your last cooperation proposal, our president, Hiroshi Kudo, has made a final decision."
He took a deep breath, the words heavy with effort.
"We agree."
"Yes! We accept all terms."
"For follow-ups, we'll rely on you and Chief Engineer Fujimoto. Please convey our regards."
"Rest assured, we'll show two hundred percent sincerity and resolve."
Hanging up, Yuji exhaled, tension easing, a rare smile breaking through.
He turned to Hiroshi, voice lighter with relief.
"Brother, NEC's thrilled. Ishihara said he'll report to the top immediately and start pushing the partnership forward."
Hiroshi turned, his expression softening slightly.
"Good."
"Nintendo closed a door on us, so we'll carve a window—no, we'll build a ship to ride the waves!"
The secret Hudson-NEC talks, seen by the Kudo brothers as their only light to escape Nintendo's shadow and reclaim glory, accelerated sharply.
A storm to shake the gaming industry was quietly brewing in another corner of Tokyo.