The humid sea breeze of Victoria Harbour, tinged with a salty tang, brushed against Takuya Nakayama and his team.
Hong Kong's vibrant cityscape mingled with its slightly dated industrial zones, creating a unique character.
Their first stop: Huake Electronics Co., Ltd.
Those familiar with China's electronics industry know Huake, founded in 1983 by China Resources Group with the former Ministries of Machine Building and Foreign Trade, was Hong Kong's largest integrated circuit manufacturer at the time, boasting China's first 4-inch wafer production line—a technological leader in its era.
At their initial meeting, Huake's executives greeted them with professional smiles, but their eyes betrayed cautious scrutiny of these "distinguished guests" from a major Japanese firm and their demands.
When Mr. Ishida presented Sega's order projections for Pokémon's electronic pet circuit boards and components, a faint but audible gasp rippled through Huake's meeting room.
"This… this volume…" Manager Li, a Huake representative, adjusted his glasses, staring at the documents in disbelief.
Huake was accustomed to producing calculators, digital watches, and radios—low-tech, stable-order products.
Gaming devices, especially from an industry titan like Sega, were unfamiliar territory.
Though the order involved only circuit board printing and assembly, not finished products, the sheer scale made them realize the gaming industry's massive potential, forcing them to count the zeros carefully.
"Mr. Ishida, Mr. Nakayama, it's not that we doubt your company's capabilities," Manager Li said, pushing up his glasses, his gaze carrying subtle scrutiny.
He cleared his throat, striving for composure.
"But an order this large, for a brand-new electronic product…"
He paused, choosing his words, fingers tapping unconsciously on the table.
"We… we need time to assess."
"Frankly, our main production lines focus on consumer electronics like calculators and watches."
"They're low-tech but reliable."
"Your order's volume poses a significant challenge to our staffing, equipment load, and supply chain."
Li's gaze shifted from Ishida to Nakayama's young, steady face.
"Additionally, we're very concerned about product quality standards and technical requirements."
"We want to ensure everything is flawless, to honor your trust and avoid trouble due to our inexperience."
His words were earnest, laying Huake's concerns bare.
Nakayama had anticipated their doubts.
He maintained a calm smile, not ostentatious but reassuring.
He nodded slightly, his eyes sweeping across Huake's representatives.
"Manager Li, everyone, I fully understand your concerns."
Nakayama spoke in fluent, standard Mandarin, like a spring breeze, instantly easing the room's tense atmosphere.
Li's eyes widened behind his glasses.
Other Huake reps exchanged glances, their faces showing surprise and a hint of warmth.
They hadn't expected this young Japanese man to speak such flawless Mandarin.
"For circuit board assembly and quality control standards, we'll provide the most detailed technical documentation," Nakayama continued, voice clear and methodical.
"Sega will also send experienced engineers to your facilities, guiding everything from production line setup to staff training."
"Our goal is to partner with Huake to create products meeting Sega's global standards. Please rest assured."
Instead of dismissing their concerns, he offered concrete solutions, radiating sincerity.
"Before diving into technical details, may I take a moment of your time?" Nakayama pivoted, his smile gaining confidence.
"I'd like to briefly introduce the gaming industry—its present and future."
Li and his colleagues exchanged looks, nodding. "Please, Mr. Nakayama, we're all ears."
What followed was Nakayama showcasing his deep industry insight and compelling oratory.
He avoided dry data or technical jargon.
"You may find our industry unfamiliar, even thinking it's just kids' entertainment," he began with a self-deprecating chuckle, drawing knowing smiles from Huake's team, lightening the mood.
"But let me share a fact that might surprise you."
His voice rose slightly, capturing their attention.
"Last year, 1985, the global gaming market exceeded $1 billion."
A soft stir rippled through the room; even the stern-faced Li raised an eyebrow.
The figure was beyond their expectations.
"And that's just the start," Nakayama said calmly, exuding unshakable confidence.
"Sega's flagship game in Japan last year sold over a million units in its first week."
"What does that mean?"
He paused, eyes sweeping the room.
"Millions of circuit boards, millions of components—a massive demand."
"And this portable electronic device we're planning has an even broader market potential."
Li gripped his pen tighter, sweat beading on his forehead.
Nakayama continued painting the industry's future.
"From early arcades to home consoles, and now our upcoming portable devices, technological advances keep pushing gaming's boundaries, creating new market demands."
"In Japan and the West, gaming is the new trend among youth, with growing acceptance."
"This order, Manager Li, everyone," Nakayama smiled, "might just be the tip of the iceberg."
He added lightly, "Of course, it'll keep your production lines buzzing—if you seize this chance."
Huake's reps, their earlier caution fading, now showed excitement and contemplation.
Li removed his glasses, wiping them slowly, processing the information.
"So, partnering with Sega isn't just about a hefty order," Nakayama said, his gaze deep and piercing, his tone solemn.
"It's a chance to grow with a global gaming leader."
"A chance to access cutting-edge technology and management expertise."
"And a commitment to long-term, stable collaboration."
The promise of cutting-edge technology struck a chord with Huake's engineer-executives.
Others were swayed by "long-term stability."
Nakayama, sensing the moment, stopped there. Huake's executives decided—since they were here, they'd talk.