In early February, the air in Tokyo still seemed to carry the scorching heatwave stirred up by fatal fury.
Arcade halls were still bustling with people, and the discussion heat of animated films had not faded.
However, the market's direction is always quietly changing.
Facing Sega's almost brutal cross-industry offensive, Konami and other third-party manufacturers unanimously chose to avoid its sharp edge.
Several FC games originally scheduled for release soon have all announced news of delays and adjustments.
A wait-and-see mood permeated the industry.
It seemed everyone wanted to see how long and how strong the fire of fatal fury would burn.
At this delicate moment, Nintendo in Kyoto did the opposite.
They ignored the market's "avoidance" atmosphere and boldly launched a new round of publicity offensives.
The target was directly aimed at the upcoming FC Disk System (Famicom Disk System, referred to as FDS) and its most important escort masterpiece—the legend of zelda.
Promotional posters quickly occupied prominent positions in major game stores and electronics stores.
TV commercials also began to be broadcast intensively.
The core selling points of the promotion were clear and precise, striking at people's hearts.
Firstly, it was the "large capacity" that far exceeded traditional cartridges.
The poster directly pointed out the huge capacity of the disk by integrating several rich content screens into a single disk image.
Secondly, it was a function that previous game consoles did not have—"savable progress."
In the commercial, a player, upon hearing the sound of the front door opening, immediately opened the save interface, quickly saved, turned off the console and TV, and then lay on the desk doing homework before his mother entered the room.
This undoubtedly directly hit the pain point of many home console players who longed for a more complex and grand game experience.
Nintendo's "counter-movement" immediately triggered huge discussions in the industry and among players.
Some media commentators believed that pushing new products while the fatal fury craze had not subsided seemed overly confident, even somewhat unwise.
A potential head-on collision seemed inevitable.
The second weekend of February, evening.
The main residence of the Nakayama Family family in Tokyo was brightly lit, exuding warmth.
Takuya Nakayama finished a week's work and returned home on time.
In the dining room, the aroma of dinner permeated the air.
His mother, Nakayama Miyuki, was busy setting out bowls and chopsticks, and when she saw her son return, a gentle smile immediately bloomed on her face.
"Takuya is back, go wash your hands, dinner will be ready soon."
Hayao Nakayama was already seated at the head of the table, holding an evening newspaper.
At the dinner table, the atmosphere was as warm as ever.
Miyuki kept serving Takuya dishes, caringly asking about his situation at work and trivial matters in his life. Takuya smiled in response, chatting and laughing with his mother.
Hayao Nakayama spoke little at home, maintaining the dignity of the head of the household, quietly eating his meal.
He could sense that Takuya had returned for dinner tonight probably to discuss something with him.
Dinner was nearing its end. Hayao Nakayama put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
He didn't get up to watch the TV news or go back to his study to handle documents as usual. He looked at Takuya, his tone calm.
"Takuya, come to the study after you finish eating."
"There's something I want to ask you."
The study of the Nakayama Family family was simply and solemnly furnished.
The air was filled with a faint scent of old books mixed with cigars.
At this moment, only the father and son were present.
Hayao Nakayama sat behind the large mahogany desk and motioned for Takuya to sit in the chair opposite him.
He was silent for a moment, seemingly organizing his thoughts.
Then, he looked up at Takuya, a rare hint of clear approval on his face.
"You did very well with the fatal fury project."
His voice was deep and powerful, carrying an undeniable affirmation.
"From the initial planning to the animation collaboration, especially that 'ending tutorial' idea..."
"All were excellent."
"You have proven your vision and ability, and frankly, it far exceeded my expectations."
This was the first time Hayao Nakayama had so directly and formally affirmed Takuya's work.
Takuya's heart stirred slightly, and a faint smile appeared on his face.
After the praise, Hayao Nakayama's tone suddenly shifted.
"Nintendo's disk system, and that game called the legend of zelda, have a very strong publicity offensive. What do you think?"
This question came directly, even somewhat abruptly.
However, it did not come as a surprise to Takuya. He briefly organized his thoughts and spoke calmly.
"Father, Nintendo's move this time is by no means a small matter."
"The large capacity of the FC Disk System first brings about the liberation of game design ideas."
"It is no longer limited by the hundreds of K of cartridge capacity and can carry a more complex worldview, a larger map, and richer game content."
"If the legend of zelda truly offers a vast world for players to freely explore, as advertised, it will be an experience that existing FC games cannot compare to at all."
"This represents an inevitable trend in the development of home console games—bigger, deeper, and freer."
Takuya paused, his voice becoming clearer and more forceful.
"But more crucial than large capacity is 'savable progress,' which is the 'save' function."
"Saving will completely change the game mode of home consoles."
"Players' gaming experience will no longer be fragmented; they will no longer need to beat the game in one go or rely on long and complex passwords."
"They can invest dozens, even hundreds of hours, to immerse themselves in a game world."
"This long-term investment will bring emotional attachment and a sense of accomplishment far exceeding arcade games or traditional short-process FC games."
Takuya leaned slightly forward, his gaze meeting his father's, pointing out the most core strategic significance.
"This design will greatly increase player stickiness."
"Every save means that the player's invested time and effort are recorded, which itself is a 'sunk cost.'"
"The more players invest, the more reluctant they will be to leave the game, and the more dependent they will be on the platform that carries the game—Nintendo's FC."
"This will be like an invisible chain, firmly binding core players to Nintendo's ecosystem, greatly solidifying their dominance in the console market."
His tone carried a hint of imperceptible seriousness.
"So, if the game quality of the legend of zelda can truly reach the height they advertised, combined with the save feature of the disk system..."
"It absolutely has the potential to become a 'groundbreaking' work."
"It might even become legendary in one battle."
"Elevating Nintendo's advantage in the home console field to a new level that we currently cannot imagine."
Hayao Nakayama listened quietly, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly on the smooth mahogany tabletop.
Silence fell in the study.
Only the hands of the old wall clock made a slight, regular ticking sound.
Nintendo's "save."
This seemingly simple function was analyzed so thoroughly by Takuya, directly hitting the core.
Long-term investment, emotional attachment, sunk cost, user stickiness.
These words, coming from his younger son, who was known for his arcade mindset, made Hayao Nakayama feel a complex emotion.
He looked up at Takuya, his gaze deep.
This kid didn't just make a hit game; it was more than that.
He saw Nintendo's seemingly clumsy, yet in fact ruthless, strategy.
"Do you mean that no matter how much fun we're having with fatal fury in arcades and animation now, it's just short-term excitement?" Hayao Nakayama's voice betrayed no emotion.
"In the short term, the popularity of fatal fury is unmatched," Takuya replied.
"But in the long run, especially in the home console market, Nintendo is building a moat that will be difficult for us to cross."
"This river is composed of these 'savable,' large-scale games that require long-term investment."
"Once players get used to experiencing this kind of deep content on home consoles, the quick and exciting thrill of arcade games might not be as appealing anymore."