Fresh from handling Sunrise matters, Takuya Nakayama hadn't even sipped water when his desk's intercom buzzed urgently. It was the hardware department—Minister Nakamura's voice crackled with barely contained excitement. The long-awaited Z80-compatible chip's first engineering sample had succeeded.
Takuya's spirits lifted. Dropping his papers, he strode to the hardware department. Nakamura greeted him, pride radiating as he carefully extracted a fingernail-sized black chip from an anti-static box, holding it like a rare gem. "Nakayama-san, the first version worked. Your insistence on pre-research kept us focused—no detours."
Takuya took the warm chip, its light weight carrying Sega's hopes for a second front. He praised Nakamura's team effusively, but the joy didn't last. His expression turned serious. "Nakamura-san, I've got critical intel."
The air cooled as Nakamura's smile froze. "Nintendo has secretly started their handheld project," Takuya said calmly.
"Nintendo?" Nakamura echoed, as if confirming it wasn't a trivial name. He gingerly returned the Z80 chip to its box, his movements more cautious than before.
"Yes, *that* Nintendo," Takuya confirmed. "We don't know their progress, but we can assume the industry's technical bottlenecks are similar. They have access to the same components we do, so our final hardware will likely be comparable."
Nakamura fell silent, hands in his lab coat pockets, the lab's solder and flux scent sharpening in the tense air. His earlier ease gave way to a technician's focused irritation. "I knew those card-playing guys wouldn't let us work in peace," he muttered, more to rally himself than complain.
Takuya's lips twitched, not quite a smile. "We must seize the lead. Time is our most precious resource now." He paused, letting the weight settle. "From today, any measure to speed development is on the table, even if it raises costs. You have full authority—hire more staff, I'll handle HR; buy pricier test equipment, I'll deal with finance; even outsource non-core circuit design for parallel R&D if it saves time. I'll approve it."
His voice was steady but firm, each word a hammer strike, handing Nakamura a loaded gun for the coming war. "One requirement: no compromise on progress."
Nakamura's furrowed brow eased, his fighting spirit ignited under the pressure. "Understood. I'll reassess all processes, cutting the timeline by days." Glancing at the scattered blueprints and tools on his workbench, he added, "Tonight, I'll get the first dev board running."
Seeing Nakamura's intensity, Takuya patted his shoulder, softening his tone. "No need to overstress. We have core advantages." He reminded, "Our chip development expertise and deep partnership with Toshiba—a semiconductor titan—give us an edge. Nintendo relies on Sharp, strong in LCDs but weaker in chip design and manufacturing compared to Toshiba. With the right strategy, this is our key to victory."
The words steadied Nakamura, easing his tension. Takuya shifted to specifics. "Any initial designs for the handheld's form factor?"
Nakamura grabbed a detailed blueprint from the workbench—a sleek rectangular device with a centered screen, a familiar Sega D-pad on the left, and Start, A, and B buttons on the right. "Horizontal layout, matching mainstream controller habits. It's the right direction," Takuya approved, but added, "We need more for visual distinction and comfort. It must stand out from calculators or generic electronics."
His finger traced the blueprint's edges. "Add ergonomic curves and anti-slip grooves where hands naturally grip—for comfort and stability during long play."
Nakamura sketched rapidly, capturing the idea. Takuya continued, "Visually, add a bold, contrasting trim—white or yellow—along the edges." Nakamura's pen paused; decorative flourishes seemed frivolous to his pragmatic mind. "Don't underestimate it," Takuya said, reading his doubt. "It boosts visual impact and sets up future limited-edition color variants."
Nakamura's eyes lit up, jotting it down. "Even add a lanyard hole in one corner," Takuya suggested, prompting another pause. "Let players attach personalized charms or straps. This handheld isn't just a gaming device—it's a trendy, personality-driven item for youth."
Nakamura stopped writing, staring at Takuya with awe. Ergonomics, visual identity, fashion, consumer psychology—these user-centric details added allure beyond cold specs. "I understand," he said gravely, swapping his sketch pencil for an ink pen, meticulously recording each point as a design mandate.
"I'll have the industrial design team incorporate these into the next prototype and assess results quickly," Nakamura promised. Takuya nodded, satisfied, patted his shoulder again, encouraged the staff, and left the hardware department.
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