Under Sega's swift and commanding organization, an emergency conference spanning the animation, manga, gaming, and merchandise industries was convened in the prestigious "Cranes Hall" at the New Otani Hotel in Tokyo.
Nearly half of Japan's entire subculture industry was represented there.
From the animation world came Toei, Sunrise, and Tatsunoko; from manga, Shueisha, Kodansha, and Shogakukan; from gaming, Namco, Capcom, and Konami; and from the toy sector, Bandai, Sanrio, and Takara. Every major company name that held weight in Japan had sent its president or a board-level executive—each sitting tensely, faces heavy with worry.
The vast hall was utterly silent. A heavy, invisible pressure hung over everyone's heads, as though a storm was about to break.
Sega's president, Hayao Nakayama, stepped onto the podium, microphone in hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen."
His deep, steady voice cut through the silence, instantly commanding everyone's attention.
"I didn't call you here today to complain, nor to point fingers at one another."
Nakayama swept his gaze slowly across the room. His weathered face bore the iron-willed determination of an old-school Showa-era entrepreneur.
"The Tokyo Metropolitan Police—those useless fools! They've spent nearly a year trying to catch one criminal and failed. And now, to cover their own incompetence, they want to drag our entire industry down with them—just to redirect the public's anger!
And those sleazy variety show producers, those shameless TV drama hacks, even the nightlife parasites in Kabukichō—they're all hoping we'll fall! They're waiting to snatch our market share the moment we collapse!"
His words were crude, even vulgar, but sharp as a blade—cutting right into the heart of everyone's fears. Several people nodded unconsciously.
"Rely on the government? Hah! We all know how slow they are. By the time those bureaucrats finish 'discussing' the issue, our industry will already be nailed to the pillar of shame!"
"We're businessmen. Efficiency is our life—our money!"
He slammed his fist on the podium.
"I know what you're all thinking—how to survive this storm."
"But let me make this clear: hiding won't save you!"
"Because we are the eye of the storm! The media needs a target to sell papers, the politicians need a scapegoat to pacify the people—
and we are the easiest, most visible target they can hit!"
Each word stripped away the last illusions many still clung to.
"If we don't stand up for ourselves—if we don't draw a line between us and the true filth—if we don't create our own standards—then soon, someone else will. And when they do, they'll forge a prison of rules for all of us to live in."
A low murmur rippled through the room. Faces turned pale with realization.
Then Nakayama's voice rose, sharp and resolute:
"Therefore, I propose we form our own self-regulatory organizations!"
"Animation, manga, games, toys—each should establish an independent industry review board. Together, we'll create a clear, transparent rating system for the entire public to see!"
He paused, eyes blazing as he scanned the hall.
"We'll label our own works—'All Ages,' 'Recommended for 12 and up,' '15+ Restricted!' We'll make it clear to parents, to society, what's meant for children and what's meant for adults!"
"Just like the film industry's Eirin system, we'll build our own version of it!"
"This—" one of Konami's directors hesitated, raising his hand, "President Nakayama, isn't this… self-castration? We're handing them the knife before they even strike!"
Nakayama's eyes turned cold.
"No." He shook his head slowly. "This isn't handing them the knife. This is taking back our own sword."
"We won't just rate our works—we'll unite in publicly condemning any creation that sexualizes children or crosses ethical lines! We'll embrace regulation—but the rules must be written by us!"
"We can even invite respected public figures to supervise, to show society our sincerity, to shut the critics' mouths! But our organization will only monitor and advise—never act as judge or jury. That way, we prevent corruption within, and deny the government any excuse to meddle in our affairs!"
"And let's not forget to reach out to our allies in politics! Compared to the old industries, our influence in Nagatachō is weak. This storm… it wouldn't surprise me if some in the police department stirred it up to save their own positions!"
When he finished, silence fell once more.
Then—someone began to clap.
A second joined in.
And within moments, the entire hall erupted into thunderous applause, rolling like wildfire, unstoppable and deafening.
With Nakayama's announcement of open discussion, the previously somber hall suddenly came alive.
Executives quickly formed clusters by sector, heatedly debating strategy.
Takuya Nakayama quietly slipped through the crowd until he reached Bandai's president, Makoto Yamashina.
"President Yamashina."
Yamashina turned, recognizing him. "Executive Nakayama, what can I do for you?"
"Just a small suggestion." Takuya lowered his voice.
"Bandai's Gundam models have always been beloved by young fans. But… have you considered what might happen if a six-year-old were sold a model kit requiring knives, glue, and sandpaper to build?"
Yamashina's brows furrowed. He began to think.
"Choking hazards, cuts, tool misuse—those small risks could easily be twisted by the media into a 'heartless company harming children' scandal."
Takuya continued, "But imagine if we included an age guideline: 'Recommended for ages 15 and up.'
That single line of text would shield Bandai from both legal and media risk—and send a powerful message: Bandai is a responsible, trustworthy company."
"For younger children, we could push the simpler, hand-assembled SD kits. For the more complex and expensive models, we clearly state the target age. It's not self-limiting—it's refining our market strategy. Turning a crisis into an opportunity for brand prestige!"
Yamashina's eyes lit up instantly—as if lightning had struck his mind.
Of course! This wasn't just self-protection—it was brilliant business logic!
"I see it now." He nodded firmly, admiration evident in his tone. "Thank you, Executive Nakayama. Bandai fully supports this. I'll immediately begin promoting this within the toy sector!"
Receiving his approval, Takuya merely inclined his head. Without another word, he turned to leave—but as he brushed past Yamashina, his fingers subtly slipped a neatly folded note into the man's palm.
The paper was warm to the touch. Yamashina instinctively clenched his fist around it.
He watched as Takuya Nakayama's calm figure disappeared into the crowd, soon joining a group of Shueisha and Kodansha representatives—chatting casually, as if their earlier conversation had never happened.
Please Support me by becoming my patreon member and get 30+ chapters.
[email protected]/Ajal69
change @ with a
Thank You to Those who joined my Patreon