Tom Kalinske moved with the speed of a California gust of wind.
He had barely dropped Takuya Nakayama back at Silicon Valley Online before he slammed the gas pedal, shot back to SEGA's Redwood City headquarters, and—without even pulling his office door fully shut—snatched up the phone.
"Frank? It's me, Tom! Last time you complained that Apple was driving you crazy—want a change? Yeah!
I've got a new company here and I need someone to run the whole thing. Interested?"
"Hey, Joanna! Queen of headhunters! I need someone—someone who knows money, can smell money, and invests sharper than anyone in the Valley! I want them to help me spend money! Budget? No budget!"
Everyone on SEGA America's administrative floor heard their president's thunderous voice echoing down the hall. Necks stretched out everywhere—what on earth was the boss doing now?
Meanwhile, at Silicon Valley Online, Takuya Nakayama gathered Nohara's Japanese team and Harry's American team for a formal handover meeting.
The meeting room felt nothing like it had days before.
The Japanese engineers were no longer stiff and cautious.
The American engineers had dropped their earlier carelessness.
They had just fought—and won—a beautiful battle together. In their eyes was the shared recognition of newly forged comrades.
"Everyone," Takuya said, standing before the whiteboard.
There were no system diagrams on it—only three letters: ICQ.
"The BBS is only our first step in taking the high ground—but it's more like a public square.
ICQ, however… will be the hand we extend into every user's desktop. A touchpoint into their private lives."
He turned to Section Chief Nohara.
Nohara immediately switched on the projector.
On the screen appeared ICQ's early prototype interface and the intricate structure of its backend code—countless nights of work in Tokyo woven into those lines.
"From today onward," Takuya announced, "this project will be handed over to Harry's team. They will complete development and bring it online."
A faint shadow crossed the faces of the Japanese engineers—like parents watching a child they raised be adopted away.
Harry and the Americans, on the other hand, lit up instantly—like they had just discovered a gold mine.
Harry even let out a whistle. "Man… this software's got style. And this thing called 'FaceWord'? That's wild."
Takuya walked to the whiteboard, picked up a marker, and drew a sturdy box beside the word ICQ. Inside it, he wrote:
User Account System
"Harry, Nohara-san will hand over all code and documentation. I only have one requirement—the most important one."
He tapped the box firmly.
"ICQ's login must be built as an independent, universal, absolutely secure system. In the future, all our online services—including the BBS, and anything else we may launch—must be accessible through this single account system."
"I don't want 'an account for a chat app.'
I'm calling it the Silicon Valley Online Passport."
The moment the word Passport left his mouth, Harry understood.
His breathing quickened.
This wasn't just a project—it was the gateway to an ecosystem.
Whoever controlled the gateway controlled the future of the online world.
"What about security level?" Harry asked. His expression had never been this serious.
"Max it out," Takuya said without hesitation. "Treat it like building a bank vault. I never want our users to find out their Passport can be stolen."
"Got it!" Harry thumped his chest, grinning with a geek's wild excitement. "I know a few guys from DEF CON—the hacker conference. I'll bring them in as consultants. They'll break everything they can until nothing breaks. We'll be tougher than the Pentagon's firewall!"
Section Chief Nohara nearly fainted, yet also felt fire ignite in his chest.
Hiring hackers as security guards?
Only these American maniacs could come up with that.
The handover proceeded smoothly.
A few days later, Takuya, Nohara, and the rest prepared to fly back to Japan.
In the airport departure hall, Tom Kalinske came to see them off.
He wasn't wearing a suit today—just a relaxed polo shirt, looking refreshed and energized.
"I've got a candidate for CEO—working on poaching him. And I've already found an investment director. A real killer from Wall Street." Tom pulled Takuya into a tight hug and whispered with a grin, "Don't worry. I'll push everything you asked for."
"Thank you, Tom." Takuya patted him on the back. "And don't forget—send regular reports to Tokyo. Use lots of dollar signs. They love those."
"Hah! I know!"
Takuya smiled knowingly and added, "And the upcoming wave of game launches—please empty every North American gamer's wallet."
"No problem. I won't leave a single cent for Nintendo." Tom said with absolute confidence.
After saying goodbye, the group walked toward the boarding gate.
Section Chief Nohara followed behind Takuya, staring at the young man's back. The exhaustion and shock of the past days finally condensed into a single sigh.
"Executive Director… this trip to America truly felt like a dream."
"The dream is only beginning, Nohara-san." Takuya smiled over his shoulder.
Just then, an American SEGA employee came running up, panting hard. He handed Nohara a freshly received fax.
"Mr. Nohara, this is an urgent fax from Tokyo headquarters."
Nohara took it, confused. When he glanced at the contents, his face instantly drained of color.
He strode quickly to Takuya and lowered his voice, laced with tension:
"Executive Director… it's a financial inquiry from HQ. They want to know why SEGA America suddenly increased server purchases and bandwidth expenses—without budget approval…"
Takuya took the fax and skimmed it.
It was written in that uniquely Japanese corporate style—rigid, formal, cold.
Every word radiated the authority of "proper procedure."
His face didn't show the slightest alarm.
Not even annoyance.
He simply sighed, as if looking at a sticky note someone wrote the wrong date on.
He turned to the breathless employee.
"Go. Fax back every newspaper from the past few days that reported on Silicon Valley Online. Especially any pages from The Wall Street Journal and The Los Angeles Times. Send all of it to that number."
"Huh?" The employee blinked, baffled.
Even Nohara froze. "Executive Director, aren't we going to explain? The finance department—"
"Explain?" Takuya folded the inquiry letter casually, slipped it into his pocket, and clapped Nohara on the shoulder with a playful smile.
"Nohara-san, when dealing with bookkeepers who only understand numbers but not markets, a few front pages of The Wall Street Journal are worth more than ten thousand words of explanation."
He paused, then added to the employee:
"After you fax the newspapers, include one line."
Takuya looked toward the plane preparing for takeoff.
His voice wasn't loud—yet carried a certain unshakable authority.
"Write: 'The expenses were approved by me. If they still have questions after reading the newspapers, tell them to prepare coffee and wait for me to return to Tokyo—then ask in my office.'"
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