The scene shifted to the Software Development Department.
In the dimly lit room, Yuji Naka was slumped over his desk, his bloodshot eyes staring blankly at lines of dry code on the screen.
His messy hair looked like a bird's nest, and half a dozen crushed Red Bull cans were piled beside him.
Without the screen specifications, all his front-end work was completely stalled. This feeling of being unable to act was driving him crazy.
"Director Naka!"
Bang! The door was thrown open with a loud crash.
Hideki Sato burst in like a whirlwind, carrying a briefcase.
Yuji Naka shot upright so abruptly that he nearly knocked over the cup of stale black coffee on his desk.
"Did you get the specs?! Tell me you got them!" Naka lunged forward like a starving wolf spotting meat, his voice hoarse with desperation.
Sato slammed the briefcase onto the desk, flipped open the latches, and pulled out two screen panels.
"3.0 inches and 3.5 inches. Both have a resolution of 240 by 160 pixels. The physical dimensions and interface specifications are all right here." Sato handed over a sheet of paper covered in parameters, offering it like a life-saving antidote.
Naka snatched the paper, his eyes greedily scanning the data.
"240 by 160... 240 by 160..." Yuji Naka muttered, grabbing a red and blue pencil from the desk. He scribbled calculations on a grease-stained piece of scrap paper, then suddenly threw his head back and roared with laughter. "A 3:2 aspect ratio! Perfect! This is a godsend! It's ideal for side-scrolling and RPGs, and the UI layout will be a dream!"
"My Sonic won't end up looking like a fatso!"
He slammed the paper onto the desk and spun around, unleashing a deafening roar at the programmers who were snoring away on their cots in the office.
"Get your asses up and get to work! The screen specs are final! Rewrite the display logic for a 3:2 ratio immediately! Repackage all the test assets—lock the resolution at exactly 240 by 160! If anyone's off by a single pixel, I'll skin you alive!"
The office erupted as if a bomb had just gone off. The programmers scrambled to their desks, and the sound of keyboards clattering broke out like a sudden downpour.
Hideki Sato handed the two screens to a nearby hardware engineer.
"Jump the wires immediately! Connect these two screens to the test board. I want to see the actual effect after power-on, especially the color saturation and ghosting. Hurry!"
The engineer took the screens, immediately brought out the soldering iron and ribbon cables, and began working furiously on the workbench, sweat pouring down his face.
The pungent smell of rosin filled the air.
Half an hour later.
"Connected! Powering up!" the engineer shouted, flipping the switch on the test board.
The first 3.0-inch screen successfully lit up.
There was no blinding backlight tube; the screen relied solely on the harsh fluorescent lights of the office.
However, the moment the image appeared, everyone gasped.
Yuji Naka pressed his face almost against the screen.
The screen was running the Sonic stress test program.
The blue hedgehog sprinted across the green grass, the colors so vivid they seemed to drip off the screen. The edges were sharp and crisp, without a hint of blur.
"This color depth—is this really 260,000 colors?!" Yuji Naka's voice trembled with awe. "It completely lacks that grayish, washed-out look of transmissive TFTs. The colors are so transparent and clear, it's like they're printed directly on paper!"
"What about the ghosting? Look closely at the ghosting!" Hideki Sato stared tensely at the fast-moving Sonic, his palms slick with sweat.
"I can barely feel it!" Yuji Naka grabbed the test controller, his fingers frantically mashing buttons as he made Sonic jump, dash, and roll. "Sharp's technology is truly monstrous! With this kind of response speed, it'll handle high-intensity action games without a hitch! It's so smooth!"
Next, the engineer carefully powered down the system and swapped in the 3.5-inch screen.
When it lit up again, the display was larger, and the field of view instantly felt much wider.
Although the pixels were slightly more noticeable at extremely close range because the resolution remained the same, this minor difference was virtually imperceptible at the normal handheld grip distance.
"The 3.5-inch screen has a much stronger visual impact—definitely stronger!" Yuji Naka declared without hesitation, a fervent light gleaming in his eyes. "For a handheld console, as long as the image quality is guaranteed, bigger is always better. Players need this kind of immersion. If we can keep the power consumption and cost under control, I strongly recommend going straight with the 3.5-inch!"
Hideki Sato stared at the brilliant screen and nodded heavily.
"I'll take the motherboard back immediately for extreme power consumption comparison tests. If the difference between the 3.5-inch and 3.0-inch versions is within a controllable range, we'll finalize this specification!"
Yuji Naka sat back down at his computer and slammed his hands onto the keyboard, his knuckles turning white. He turned to Hideki Sato, his eyes burning with a desperate, all-or-nothing resolve.
"You guys handle the hardware," Naka declared. "The Managing Director gave us half a month for the software? Hmph, we won't need that long! Within half a month, I'll give you a flawless development toolchain! When the time comes, I'll have every third-party manufacturer in Japan lining up and begging to get their hands on Sega's development kits!"
Seeing Naka so fired up, as if he were about to spontaneously combust, Hideki Sato felt a massive weight finally lift from his chest.
Two days later, in the morning.
Inside the Hardware Lab at Sega Headquarters, several industrial-grade high-power exhaust fans were humming deeply, desperately trying to dispel the scorching heat generated by the equipment running continuously. The air was thick with the distinct smell of rosin solder mixed with machine oil.
Hideki Sato gripped two power consumption test reports that had just been spat out by the printer, his brow furrowed so tightly it could have crushed a passing fly.
On the spacious anti-static workbench before him, two prototypes—resembling Frankenstein's monsters with their dense webs of test cables—were running at full speed.
The machine on the left was equipped with a 3.0-inch screen; the one on the right, a 3.5-inch.
The test engineer strode over with a clipboard, respectfully handing over the final peak data.
The power performance of the 3.0-inch model was exceptional—even defying logic. Powered by just two ordinary AA batteries, it had somehow endured a grueling 20-hour runtime while running an extreme stress test at full load!
Meanwhile, the 3.5-inch version on the right saw its power consumption skyrocket due to the larger screen area, with its battery life plummeting to around 14 hours.
To be fair, 14 hours was still incredibly competitive in today's handheld console market, where devices often need battery swaps every few hours. It would easily place in the top tier.
But 20 hours—compared to 14—was simply on another level.
Please Support me by becoming my Patreon member and get 30+ chapters.
[email protected]/Ajal69
change @ with a
Thank You to Those who joined my Patreon