Zaboru sighed and asked, "Why does he suddenly want to meet me, Yumi-san?"
Yumi adjusted her glasses and replied, "Well, he said he's in Japan for meetings with Apple investors, and he's really curious. If possible, he wants to meet the hottest company in Japan right now—which is us, Boss."
Zaboru let out another sigh and nodded. "I see. Did he say when he wants to meet?"
Yumi checked her notes. "He said he'd like to come tomorrow, after lunch, if that works for you."
Zaboru nodded again. "Alright then, please let him know I'm available at that time."
"Understood," Yumi said with a small bow. She quickly jotted down the confirmation and returned to her desk to inform Steve Jobs' representatives about the scheduled meeting.
Meanwhile, Zaboru sighed. "Steve Jobs, huh?"
In his previous world, Steve Jobs was known both for his revolutionary brilliance and for his infamous cruelty. He was a tech icon, no doubt—but also someone feared and disliked by many who worked with him. Stories of his ruthlessness were legendary. Some people even went so far as to say he deserved his fate when he passed away from cancer, claiming he died alone because of the way he treated others. That memory lingered in Zaboru's mind—tragic, and in some ways, undeserved.
But here, in this new world, things were still uncertain. Steve Jobs wasn't yet the towering figure he would become. He had only just returned to Apple after they acquired NeXT, stepping back into the role of CEO with the company still finding its footing.
Zaboru leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, reflecting. "I don't know what kind of man he'll be in this reality," he murmured.
Then, with a faint chuckle, he added, "Let's hope this version turns out to be more decent."
Then on next day Tuesday.
Steve Jobs sat quietly in the back of a black car, heading toward ZAGE Tower in central Tokyo. His curiosity had grown steadily since the meeting was confirmed. Apple, under his leadership, was beginning to explore the video game space more seriously—a long-overdue expansion he believed was critical for the future of the company. But before diving in, he wanted to understand how the current top players operated. And in this world, ZAGE was undeniably at the top.
What intrigued Steve even more was the story behind ZAGE's success. A young man named Zaboru Renkonan—still in his early twenties—had built the company from scratch since he is in teenager days and, shockingly, still owned 100% of its shares. To Steve, that level of control was almost unbelievable. In Business World, that kind of independence was rare, if not impossible. That alone made him want to meet Zaboru face-to-face. Who was this kid who had turned an idea into a corporate empire and held onto every bit of it?
Soon, the car pulled up to ZAGE Tower. Steve stepped out, glancing up at the sleek, high-rise headquarters. It was modern and imposing, but what immediately caught his eye was something that didn't sit well with him—character illustrations, murals, and massive artwork covered parts of the exterior and lobby walls. Bright, colorful game characters greeted visitors as they entered. To Steve, it felt a bit too chaotic. "Not very elegant," he muttered to himself, the perfectionist in him silently critiquing every design choice.
After a short wait in the minimalist but vibrant reception area, he was approached by Zaboru's secretary, Yumi Ichijou. Dressed in professional attire and carrying herself with poise, she gave a polite bow. "Welcome, Mr. Jobs. Thank you for coming. Mr. Renkonan is expecting you."
"Thank you," Steve replied, giving her a quick nod. He followed her toward the elevator that would take him to the 50th floor, curious about what kind of mind he was about to meet.
As they arrived at the 50th floor of ZAGE Tower, the elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and Steve Jobs finally laid eyes on the man he had come all this way to meet. Zaboru approached with measured confidence, his posture upright and calm. "Hello, Mr. Jobs. Nice to meet you," he said, extending his hand with a firm but respectful tone.
Steve returned a professional smile and shook Zaboru's hand. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Renkonan."
"Zaboru is fine, Mr. Jobs," he replied, smiling as he motioned toward a nearby lounge setup, sleek and modern yet inviting.
They took their seats, sitting across from one another in the spacious corner office, sunlight pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows that framed Tokyo's cityscape like a living painting. For a brief moment, there was silence, a shared measure of curiosity passing between the two.
Steve Jobs, known for sizing people up within moments, watched the young man before him with sharp interest. Zaboru might be one of the youngest billionaires in modern history, but he certainly didn't carry himself with the awkwardness or arrogance Jobs often expected from prodigies. Instead, there was a kind of composure about him—cool, focused, unshaken.
Jobs could see it in his eyes. Zaboru wasn't lucky. He wasn't pretending. He belonged here.
And for a moment, even Jobs—famously hard to impress—felt a rare flicker of respect.
Then Steve Jobs opened the conversation with his signature mix of charm and directness.
"Sorry for showing up like this without much notice," he began, "but you see, we at Apple are seriously considering entering the video game space in the near future. It's a direction we believe is inevitable for the company's growth. So I figured—why not see how the biggest video game developer in the world operates? And I've got to say, this place is quite grand. Very different from what I expected."
He let out a brief chuckle and leaned forward slightly.
"So, Zaboru, can you give me some tips on how to make a proper video game?"
Zaboru chuckled back, both amused and slightly wary of the casual question. In his mind, he thought, Sly bastard, but fair enough.
"Hahaha, I can't believe you're just casually asking that, Mr. Jobs," he said. "But alright, I'll humor you."
He shifted forward in his seat.
"Making a proper video game comes down to just two things: heart—and knowing what gamers actually want. If you're building a game solely for profit, you're not making a game. You're making a product. And that's not the same thing."
Zaboru's voice grew more serious.
"And if you don't understand gamers—if you don't get their culture, their frustrations, their joy—then you'll never be able to design something that connects with them. Games aren't just entertainment. They're emotional. They're challenges, memories, connections. If you strip that away for shiny graphics and business metrics, you might sell copies, but you won't build legacy. You won't matter."
He paused, watching Steve's expression closely.
"A great game feels like it was made by someone who lives games. That's the secret—not tech, not budget. Just heart and understanding."
Steve Jobs frowned and said, "I think that's contradictory. You see, it's the same with other entertainment or tech industries—when the product is good, the customer will buy it. But what defines a product as 'good' is a completely different conversation. In gaming, I think it's all about the graphics, don't you? If the visuals are appealing, people will naturally want to play it. As long as it isn't broken, a game with high-end visuals will still be labeled a 'good game,' regardless of the gameplay depth."
Zaboru let out a slow sigh. This guy was really stubborn. He had come here asking for advice, and now that Zaboru had offered it, Jobs had immediately tried to reshape it into his own logic. It was as if he hadn't listened at all. Still, Zaboru wasn't annoyed—in fact, he welcomed it. He was in the mood to debate, and Steve had just given him the perfect opening.
To Zaboru, Jobs' argument sounded like something from a boardroom disconnected from reality. Prioritizing graphics over gameplay was a dangerous trap—one that had swallowed countless developers whole in his previous life. He crossed his legs and leaned slightly forward, already lining up his response. This wasn't just about different views; it was about fundamentally different philosophies of design. And Zaboru had no intention of backing down. Not when it came to games.
"That's completely bullshit, Mr. Jobs," Zaboru said bluntly, his tone sharpened with frustration. Steve Jobs frowned, clearly not expecting such a direct response. But Zaboru didn't stop there.
"You might not understand what actually makes a game good. What defines 'good graphics' anyway? Are we talking about the latest rendering techniques? Ultra high-resolution textures? Or just something pleasing to look at with smooth animations? All of those things may impress in the short term, but let's be real—they age fast. Technology moves forward at a relentless pace."
Zaboru leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with Jobs. "Let's say you play a game today and are blown away by how it looks. Now fast forward five to ten years—will it still blow you away? Most likely not. The same game that feels cutting-edge today will feel dated tomorrow because graphics always evolve. The standard keeps rising. What you think is top-tier now will become obsolete sooner than you think."
He paused to let that thought settle, then added, "But if you make a game with strong gameplay mechanics , great story and design it with the genuine intention of delighting the player—that experience becomes timeless. That game becomes something people cherish. Something they want to play again, not for how it looks, but for how it made them feel."
Zaboru sat back, crossing his arms. "That's the difference. Good graphics might sell a game today. But great gameplay and thoughtful design will keep it alive for decades. You want to build a legacy in games? You don't chase pixels. You chase joy."
Steve Jobs then said, "That's not even a real problem. What we need to do is simply release a new video game every year, so it's always aligned with the latest technology. That way, the product remains cutting-edge. And about story—come on, is that really important? People play games for the gameplay, not for some emotional narrative, don't you think?"
Zaboru chuckled, amused and a bit baffled. "You really have no idea, Mr. Jobs. Story is the core of gaming. Without it, you're just building a hollow shell. What you're describing—rapid release cycles just to stay 'current'—might sound efficient, but the kind of game that produces? Trust me, it won't work. It'll lack identity, soul, and everything that makes a game unforgettable."
He leaned forward, locking eyes with Jobs. "People don't go back to a game because of ultra-sharp visuals. They go back for how it made them feel. They go back for the characters, the journeys, the choices. A story gives purpose to every level, every boss fight, every twist."
Steve Jobs gave a dry smile, leaning back in his seat. "How do you know it won't work? As far as I know, the methods I'm describing aren't the way ZAGE develops games, right? So technically, you haven't tested this kind of approach yourself. And let's be honest—you might be hailed as the 'Video Game Savior,' the 'God of Video Game,' or whatever dramatic title the media likes to throw around, but you're not a god, Zaboru. You can't just dismiss something as unworkable without trying it first."
Zaboru was slightly surprised by Steve's blunt retort, though deep down, he already expected something like that. 'He's still an asshole,' Zaboru thought to himself, but he kept his cool.
With a composed tone, Zaboru replied, "That statement is correct, Mr. Jobs. You're right—one can't say something won't work without trying it. But even so, we have access to data. Data that shows us patterns—what kinds of games succeed, and what kinds don't."
He paused briefly, then gave a small, knowing smile.
What Steve Jobs didn't realize was that Zaboru's point wasn't coming from speculation or assumptions. It was rooted in experiences from his previous world. There, countless video game companies had lost their creative spark and alienated their fanbases because they started focusing too much on maximizing profit over delivering passion. They had the wrong priorities.
Zaboru remembered how, back then, franchises like Call of Duty were once held in high regard—praised for their innovation and fun. But over time, the annual releases, rushed production, and corporate interference drained them of life. Today, whenever a new CoD title dropped, most people just groaned, uninterested. The magic was gone.
But of course, Zaboru wasn't going to explain that to Steve. Let him believe what he wants—for now.
Zaboru then continued, "For the record, I've never claimed to be the God of Video Games or the Savior of the industry. Honestly, I dislike those titles—they feel like empty praise and media noise. But one thing I know for certain, Mr. Jobs: when it comes to creating games, I'm better than you. And that's not ego talking. It's experience. It's passion. It's because I live this world in a way you don't, and likely never will. And that's how it's going to be—now and always."
Zaboru grinned confidently, the words hanging in the air.
Steve Jobs was briefly caught off guard, blinking at the sheer boldness. Then, with a small smirk, he gave a short chuckle and stood up. "Well, we'll see about that," he said. "Anyway, I'm sorry to have taken up your time. I'll excuse myself."
Zaboru nodded once, maintaining eye contact as Steve turned and exited the office.
Once the door clicked shut, Zaboru sank back into his chair and exhaled slowly. He stared out at the Tokyo skyline for a moment, then muttered to himself, "Did he seriously come all this way just to try and flex on me? What an asshole."
A chuckle escaped him as he sat up straighter.
"Fine," he said, already reaching for his phone. "Looks like that project I put on hold? It's time to bring it back. I need to talk to AKAI. Later."
Zaboru had originally decided to postpone the Apple product project from his previous life, thinking the timing wasn't right. But after that aggravating meeting with Steve Jobs, something shifted. His pride had been poked just enough to reignite his motivation. Now, with renewed determination, Zaboru was ready to move forward. ZAGE and AKAI would begin development once more—bringing to life the Apple products that had revolutionized his old world.
to be continued