Takuya Nakayama's handheld project proposal was unanimously approved by the board of directors.
This outcome did not surprise anyone; the MD's sales were unstoppable, and the entire Sega company was filled with an uplifting atmosphere.
No one would refuse a project that could open up a new battlefield, especially since the reaction to the handheld market had already been seen with the release of the handheld version of tetris.
After the meeting, Takuya Nakayama returned to his office and saw Suzuki Masao from the Marketing Department waiting for him with a briefing.
"Take a look at this, the latest response from Kyoto."
Takuya Nakayama took the brief, his eyes quickly falling on the most prominent section.
On February 20th, Nintendo's ace, super mario bros. 3, finally surpassed Sega's pokémon adventure: pokémon land in weekly sales.
"It's too late to overtake now."
A smirk played on Takuya Nakayama's lips.
The MD's most challenging window period had safely passed, and the astonishing sales of its launch titles had long been turned into the most powerful weapon for Sega's sales team to persuade third-party manufacturers.
The next news item in the brief was the best proof.
"Konami and Bandai have officially announced their entry into the MD camp."
Suzuki Masao read out the headline, his tone as relaxed as if discussing the weather, "We just finished our celebration here; Nintendo must be in an uproar over there."
Takuya Nakayama's finger pointed at the content below, "Let them be, but look at this: Nintendo announced a ban on any Konami and Bandai games from landing on Nintendo platforms."
Suzuki Masao shook his head, unable to help but laugh, "This kind of blockade is just a gesture; it has no practical effect anymore, it only lets others know that they are only capable of impotent rage."
Relaxed laughter filled the office as the two men chuckled.
The towering mountain that had once loomed over the entire industry now showed such obvious cracks for the first time.
Their response was not to pull the rug out from under, but to pour water on a boiling pot, full of sluggishness and hesitation.
Kyoto, Nintendo Headquarters conference room.
Everyone bowed their heads, no one daring to speak first, and even less daring to look at the old man who seemed to be resting his eyes in the main seat.
The news of Konami and Bandai's defection was like a resounding slap across the face of every Nintendo executive.
This was no longer a matter of money, but a blatant challenge to the order of the entire Nintendo empire.
"President, everyone—" a young director finally couldn't help but break the suffocating silence, "I believe we should perhaps re-examine the royalty system for third-party manufacturers.
Sega is coming on strong, their terms are too generous, if we don't make adjustments now, I'm afraid—"
He couldn't finish his sentence.
"Afraid of what?" a stiff voice interrupted him; it was an old retainer by Hiroshi Yamauchi's side, "Afraid that we too must learn Sega's ways and wag our tails for those fickle fellows?
How was Nintendo's foundation built? By rules! By an iron fist! If we make concessions for Konami today, tomorrow Capcom and Taito will follow suit, and this empire will rot from its very roots!"
"But the foundation is already shaken!" the young director stood up agitatedly, "We are losing allies!
It's not whether we want to make concessions, but whether we can bear the consequences of losing more manufacturers!"
"Then let them go! Even if Nintendo relies only on its own games, it will still be the master of the industry!"
"Times have changed!"
The arguments suddenly escalated, and the entire conference room fell into chaos.
One side believed that prices must be lowered to appease and stabilize the situation; the other insisted on not yielding an inch, wanting to use more severe measures to uphold the empire's dignity.
Both sides argued, spitting as they spoke, yet carefully avoiding the silent figure in the main seat.
Hiroshi Yamauchi seemed detached, not even a flicker in his eyelids.
After an unknown period, the arguments gradually subsided; everyone was tired of arguing, only able to pant and look at each other, finally turning their gaze back to Hiroshi Yamauchi, awaiting the final judgment.
Hiroshi Yamauchi slowly opened his eyes, and no one could discern any emotion from his eyes behind the brown lenses.
But he did not look at any of his quarreling subordinates.
His gaze, passing over everyone, fell on the two individuals at the far end of the conference room.
"Uemura-kun, Takeda-kun."
Masayuki Uemura, responsible for hardware development, and Genyo Takeda, responsible for chip pre-research, both stiffened simultaneously and immediately sat up straight.
"Here."
Hiroshi Yamauchi's voice was not loud, but it instantly quieted the entire conference room; everyone held their breath.
He did not mention a single word about the dispute over royalties or the strategy for third-party manufacturers, as if the fierce argument that had just occurred had never happened.
"Nintendo's 16-bit home console," Hiroshi Yamauchi's tone was devoid of emotion, "development must be put on the agenda."
"Yes!"
The war in the console market was raging, with manufacturers and game developers clashing fiercely, but after the clamor, the ultimate beneficiaries were naturally the players.
Several arcade masterpieces ported by Sega to the MD soared in sales, thanks to their massive player base.
Being able to enjoy an arcade-level gaming experience at home on one's own TV, anytime, was in itself an incredibly fulfilling experience for countless players.
But this was just the beginning.
What truly ignited the market was a completely new, unforeseen title.
When pokémon adventure: pokémon land was first released, there was still some wait-and-see attitude within the core gaming community.
The cover featured cute Pikachu, Squirtle, and Bulbasaur, which seemed a bit "younger."
But when countless household users and female players, encouraged by sales assistants, inserted the cartridge into their console with a try-it-out mentality, everything changed.
"Mom, I can't get past here, there's fire!" On a weekend afternoon, a seven or eight-year-old girl tugged at her mother's arm.
"Don't rush, let Mom see—hmm, don't we have Squirtle in our team? Try switching to it."
On the TV screen, the chubby Squirtle took a step forward, puffed out its small mouth, and a stream of water accurately extinguished the fire obstacle.
The girl let out a cheer, and a knowing smile appeared on her mother's face.
This joy of cooperative puzzle-solving, simple, intuitive, yet incredibly pure, allowed many housewives who had never touched video games to experience its charm for the first time.
Soon, this game became a hot topic during housewives' afternoon teas and female colleagues' lunch breaks.
"Hey, how did you guys get past that part where you use a Vine Whip to pull the switch? I've tried several times."
"You need to stand a bit further back and aim before pressing, but sometimes I intentionally miss, and Bulbasaur's expression is super cute then!"
"I still like Pikachu the most; it's so much fun to paralyze those clumsy robots!"
The game's unique puzzle-solving and light operational intensity, coupled with the pokémon IP, quickly broke through the usual gaming circles.
It was no longer just a toy for children but a new bond that enhanced relationships among friends, girlfriends, and family.
And when those most dedicated young players, after countless efforts, finally defeated all the giant robot pokémon in pokémon Land, they were surprised to discover that the game was not over.
Deep within pokémon Land, a hidden door slowly opened.