April 4th. The cherry blossoms in Tokyo had mostly fallen, and the scattered petals on the ground hadn't yet been swept away.
A black Toyota Century was parked steadily in front of the Sega Headquarters Building.
Chuta Mitsui stepped out first and opened the door for Makoto Yamashina in the back seat.
Though he was an executive director at Bandai, he still had to show proper respect to Sega's President.
Takuya Nakayama waited at the entrance to greet the two men. After all, the President's personal visit required a show of deference.
Nakayama led them directly to the executive elevator.
When the elevator doors slid open with a ding, they weren't greeted by rows of uniform office desks, but by a faint aroma of coffee and solder.
In the center of the Development Team 3 room stood a massive object half-covered by a black cloth. Scattered around it were several sheets of paper covered in indecipherable sketches.
"This is the 'surprise' we prepared for you two," Nakayama said, casually pulling off the black cloth.
For a moment, both Yamashina and Mitsui's breathing visibly hitched.
This was nothing like the colorful arcade cabinets they had in mind.
The thing was entirely black, its rugged form resembling an armored plate freshly dug from a trench.
The most striking feature was the control panel—instead of the usual colorful buttons, it featured two vertical joysticks resembling those of a fighter jet. The grips were even finished with a non-slip textured coating, and in addition to a trigger, a multi-directional hat switch was integrated at the thumb position.
On the side of the cabinet, the massive 45-degree side profile of the RX-78-2 First Gundam wasn't a cheap printed sticker. Instead, it was an embossed metal plate with a brushed finish, gleaming coldly under the spotlights.
"This—" Chuta Mitsui couldn't resist reaching out to touch the cold joystick. It felt heavy and substantial, with a satisfying resistance.
"This is for operating a Mobile Suit."
Team Leader Shimizu, who had been waiting for a long time, chuckled and snapped his fingers at the thin young man beside him, who wore thick-rimmed glasses and a Zeon Military T-shirt. "Otaku, show the presidents what you've got."
The programmer, now addressed as "Otaku," didn't waste time. He powered on the arcade cabinet, pulled out a memory card shaped like a soldier's ID tag from his pocket, and inserted it into the slot with a click.
There was no cheerful "Insert Coin" prompt, no colorful title logo.
The screen went black.
A low hum of electricity emanated from the surround sound system, as if a slumbering giant were awakening.
Green code flashed in the top-left corner of the screen:
[ OS VER 3.2 LOADING— ]
[ GENERATOR OUTPUT: 98% ]
[ MINKOVSKY PARTICLE DENSITY: LOW ]
In the center of the screen, a red reticle rapidly contracted and calibrated.
This was followed by a dazzling array of self-check lists: Hydraulic System: Normal, Attitude Control Thrusters: Normal, Beam Rifle: Fully Charged.
Makoto Yamashina stared intently at the screen. As the head of Bandai, he was intimately familiar with these settings—not that he could recite them from memory, but he understood them well enough. Yet he had never seen such a "hardcore" boot-up sequence in any game.
This wasn't a game; it was like sitting in the cockpit of a Gundam!
"Launch!"
With a low growl, the Otaku slammed his hands forward on the control sticks.
The screen violently shook, accompanied by the piercing hiss of hydraulic pumps venting pressure. The ground in the visual field began to heave and lurch violently.
This wasn't the usual floaty, texture-sliding movement. With each simulated footfall, the screen lurched heavily, as if the weight of tens of tons of steel were pressing down on the audience's chests through the screen.
"Pay attention to the inertia," Takuya Nakayama explained at the right moment. "The machine doesn't stop immediately when you release the joystick. Its massive momentum carries it forward for some distance. To stop abruptly, you need to fire the reverse thrusters—that's what it feels like to pilot a multi-ton metal behemoth."
On the screen, a Zaku attempted a flanking maneuver.
Instead of the flashy spins of traditional fighting games, the Otaku pulled back on the left stick and made fine adjustments with his right hand. The machine completed a wide, powerful turn, its movement both clumsy and full of raw power.
Boom!
The beam rifle fired. Not the "biu-biu" of electronic sounds, but the thunderous roar of air being instantly ionized by stored energy.
The recoil sent the entire view upward. The distant Zaku's shield was struck, erupting in a blinding flash of sparks. The machine didn't explode but staggered backward, armor fragments scattering like shrapnel.
The realistic physical feedback made Chuta Mitsui's scalp tingle.
The demo match ended, and the machine slowly knelt to cool down, the sound of the cockpit canopy opening clearly audible.
Chuta Mitsui remained frozen in place, his eyes wide and nearly falling out of their sockets and into the screen.
After several seconds, he suddenly snapped back to reality and slapped his thigh with a loud thwack.
"This is what a Gundam should be! This is what men should be piloting!" The Bandai executive director looked visibly excited.
Makoto Yamashina, who had been silent until now, slowly removed his glasses and pulled out a crumpled lens cloth from his pocket.
He didn't shout like Mitsui, but the knuckles of his hand, which was gripping the eyeglass cloth, were white.
As President of Bandai, he saw far more than just the thrill of it.
He saw the technical barrier.
Although Sunrise's Gundam games were all licensed to Bandai, and they'd released several titles, they'd remained stuck between "faithful to the anime" and "reskinned."
But Sega had slammed the words "driving experience" onto the table.
The tuning of this physics engine was far beyond the capabilities of Bandai's current development teams.
"Executive Director Nakayama," Makoto Yamashina said, putting his glasses back on, his voice a little dry. "Is this... just a prototype?"
"You're too kind," Takuya Nakayama replied, casually picking up a bottle of oolong tea and handing it over. His tone was as casual as if he were discussing tonight's bento. "It's just a demo, so there's not much content. The polygon modeling is still rough, the Zaku's movement logic isn't fully implemented, and there are plenty of bugs in the collision detection. We're still a long way from a finished product."
Team Leader Shimizu, standing nearby, winced.
This was the result of the Third Group's all-nighters, the outcome of countless hours of work that had cost them a significant amount of hair. Yet the Managing Director had dismissed it as "rough."
But this was exactly what Takuya Nakayama wanted.
He didn't need to shout himself hoarse or bombard them with data.
He simply needed to present this tangible product—a "dimensional-crushing" marvel for the era. This silent display of power was more effective than any negotiation tactic.
Makoto Yamashina shot Takuya Nakayama a deep look.
Sega was clearly flexing its muscles.
With this level of development prowess, Bandai could only watch helplessly as Sega raised the bar for Gundam games to a height they couldn't reach.
As they left the development room, Chuta Mitsui's mind remained fixed on that black arcade cabinet.
"Mr. Mitsui, watch your step," Takuya Nakayama said with a disarmingly innocent smile, pressing the elevator button for Yamashina.
Yamashina said nothing, only tightened his grip on the pathetic eyeglass cloth in his hand.
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