In Tokyo, at the Teppan Formation Building, Namco Headquarters.
Masaya Nakamura stood before the giant floor-to-ceiling window in the president's office, overlooking the bustling street below.
Information regarding last night's premiere of the fatal fury anime and the "second peak" it triggered in arcades had been delivered to his desk immediately.
The report specifically highlighted, in bold, the "unheard of" game tutorial segment at the end of the anime.
The morning sunlight streamed through the glass, bright and clear, but it did not dispel the shadow in Masaya Nakamura's heart.
Compared to the lukewarm market reaction after the launch of his own FC version of pac-man, the lively scene at Sega was like a raging inferno.
The stark contrast, like ice and fire, caused a heavy feeling of "frustration," mixed with a hint of unwillingness, to weigh on his heart.
Nintendo's seemingly precise "snipe," now appeared not only to have failed to harm Sega in the slightest, but instead, like a clumsy clown, it made fatal fury shine even brighter.
Sega... no, it was Takuya Nakayama; he had found a completely new path.
A magical channel that could efficiently and precisely inject the popularity of anime, manga, and indeed all forms of Pan-Entertainment into the game itself, directly converting it into real money and player loyalty.
And Namco?
Still cautiously moving along the track defined by Nintendo, even their most classic IP, wanting to try something new, had to depend on the mood of that "majesty," ultimately becoming a small pawn on someone else's chessboard.
Masaya Nakamura silently turned around, his back to the prosperity outside the window.
On the desk, a request document for Nintendo's approval of subsequent promotional activities for pac-man lay quietly, as if silently mocking him.
Late January, Osaka.
Inside the president's office at Konami Headquarters, the atmosphere was somewhat heavy.
Kozuki Kagemasa's gaze fell on the sales report in front of him.
It was a chart about his own shooting game, TwinBee.
The game was released on January 4th, and the initial sales curve rose steadily, meeting expectations.
However, after the January 11th mark, that curve suddenly plunged, drawing a clear and continuous downward trajectory.
He looked through the window towards the bustling commercial district nearby.
The arcades there had large fatal fury posters hanging on the roadside.
He seemed to already feel the market frenzy stirred by fatal fury, its heat waves even penetrating physical distance and permeating the air in Osaka.
Inside the office, several Konami executives sat upright.
Kozuki Kagemasa's fingers tapped lightly on the desk, making a regular soft sound.
"The momentum of fatal fury is even fiercer than we anticipated."
His voice was calm but carried undeniable weight.
"Arcade, anime, tutorial… Sega's combination punch is very precise, and the effect is phenomenal."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present.
"Their target audience is primarily teenagers, which significantly overlaps with the target market for several of our upcoming FC games."
He could not let his own hard work become mere background noise amidst others' revelry.
Kozuki Kagemasa's eyes narrowed, and he made a decision.
"The release of TwinBee, Circus Charlie, and most importantly, the FC version of Gradius, originally scheduled for sequential release in the first half of the year, will all be postponed."
"How long will they be postponed?" an executive asked cautiously.
"From half a month to a month, depending on market conditions. At the very least, we need to wait until fatal fury finishes airing in early April."
Kozuki Kagemasa's tone was resolute.
"We need to avoid the sharpest period of fatal fury right now."
Once the decision was made, the executive responsible for liaising with Nintendo immediately called Kyoto.
He followed the procedure, informing Nintendo of Konami's decision to adjust its release schedule and explaining the underlying market considerations, primarily the strategic intent to avoid the impact of fatal fury.
On the other end of the line, the voice of the Nintendo liaison specialist came through the receiver, devoid of emotion, just flat.
"Oh?"
A simple interrogative, yet carrying a hint of imperceptible coldness.
"Are you so lacking in confidence in your own flagship products, especially Gradius, just because of a competitor's minor market move?"
The specialist's voice remained flat, but every word struck at the heart of the Konami executive.
"President Kozuki should understand that the 'generous' royalty reduction we granted Konami is based on our trust in your company's product strength and market appeal."
The tone suddenly shifted, carrying a condescending implication.
"If you choose to retreat from even this small storm, then perhaps... we will have to re-evaluate this 'trust' and the 'preferential treatment' that comes with it." With that, the specialist hung up the phone.
This was not just questioning Konami's confidence; it was a threat to adjust the royalty policy.
The Konami executive's fingers tightened slightly on the receiver, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
He could clearly feel the pressure from Kyoto, an undeniable sense of control.
After hanging up the phone, he immediately reported the situation to Kozuki Kagemasa.
Kozuki Kagemasa's face instantly darkened upon hearing the report.
He remained silent, his fingers unconsciously tracing the smooth edge of his desk.
These were Nintendo's rules.
Within its system, even a flourishing Konami had to be cautious and act according to its wishes.
Ultimately, he merely waved his hand, indicating that he understood.
Endurance.
For now, only endurance.
Meanwhile, Kyoto.
At Nintendo Headquarters, within the Development Department 1 office area, it was a different scene.
In stark contrast to the external market's clamor and the struggles of third parties, an atmosphere of focused intensity permeated here.
The lights were bright, and the air carried a peculiar scent of circuit boards and coffee.
Developers were engrossed at their respective workstations, the sounds of keyboard clicks and testing equipment beeping rising and falling.
Shigeru Miyamoto sat at his desk, meticulously verifying the final test feedback report.
Every piece of data, every detail, he scrutinized with utmost care.
After confirming everything was correct, he picked up a pen and solemnly signed his name on a document bearing the words "the legend of zelda - Final Check."
The pen tip scratched lightly across the paper.
This simple action marked the official completion of the development of a highly anticipated work, carrying countless efforts and expectations—the FC Disk System launch title, the legend of zelda.
Shigeru Miyamoto put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and let out a long sigh of relief, his face showing undeniable fatigue, but a sparkle in the depths of his eyes.
Footsteps approached, and Gunpei Yokoi walked over, a genuine smile, his trademark, on his face.
He picked up the the legend of zelda disk, which had just completed final testing, from the desk, his eyes filled with excitement and admiration.
Through his experience during the testing phase, he had already deeply felt how unique this game was.
The vast Hyrule continent, made possible by exceeding the existing FC cartridge capacity limits.
Exploration gameplay that combined depth and freedom.
Exquisite graphics and beautiful music.
Every detail hinted at the potential of a "masterpiece."
Gunpei Yokoi patted Shigeru Miyamoto's shoulder firmly.
"Shigeru, excellent work!"
His voice was full of sincere praise and strong confidence.
"This is absolutely a groundbreaking work!"
He shook the disk in his hand, his eyes bright.
"With a masterpiece like the legend of zelda escorting it, I have unprecedented confidence in our upcoming Disk System!"
"It will definitely be a huge success!"
"We will set a new, unshakable benchmark in the home console market!"
Shigeru Miyamoto looked at Gunpei Yokoi, a relieved smile also appearing on his tired face, and he nodded vigorously.
Yes.
No matter how turbulent the outside world became, no matter what novel tricks opponents used.
The ultimate determinant of victory would always be the most solid technology and the most excellent content held firmly in their own hands.
This was Nintendo's true trump card.