Several influential gaming media outlets published sharply worded investigative reports almost simultaneously.
The core of the reports directly targeted super mario bros. USA, which Nintendo had just released in the North America market.
"The Truth! super mario bros. USA is Not a True Sequel!"
"Dream Factory: Heart-Pounding Panic — Mario's North America Stand-in? Nintendo's Deception!"
"Nintendo's Lie? Japanese Players Already Played the Real super mario bros. 2! Were We Treated as Second-Class Citizens?"
The eye-catching headlines, paired with comparison images of characters and levels from super mario bros. USA and the Japanese Famicom Disk System game Dream Factory: Heart-Pounding Panic, provided irrefutable evidence.
The images, placed side-by-side, showed similar scenes and almost identical enemies, with only the protagonist changing from a hat-wearing plumber to a turban-wearing Arab boy.
The report detailed that the true super mario bros. 2 in Japan was kept from North America players by Nintendo because its difficulty was deemed too high for "fragile" North America players, and it was based on the Famicom Disk System, which was not yet widespread in the North America market.
In its place was a "reskin" game—Dream Factory: Heart-Pounding Panic—which had a similar visual style but different core gameplay and characters.
As soon as the news broke, public opinion was in an uproar.
The fuse for this bombshell originated from a transatlantic phone call.
Takuya Nakayama, far away in Tokyo, keenly discovered this "little secret" after seeing Nintendo's North America release plans relayed from North America.
He immediately conveyed this crucial information through his father's connections to the helmsman of Sega of North America—David Rosen.
He immediately instructed his team to "inadvertently" leak this information to several media reporters who were closely associated with Sega and eager for a big scoop.
"Hey, GM, I've got an exclusive lead here that could double your magazine's sales. It's about Mario, but not the Mario you're thinking of…"
As soon as this news was revealed, it instantly caused a stir among North America players.
Return phone lines at major game stores were jammed, and player clubs were filled with questions and complaints about Nintendo.
"We were tricked! This isn't Mario at all!"
"Nintendo is treating us like fools again! Japanese players get the real thing, and we're stuck with this substitute? Who are they looking down on?!"
"No wonder I felt this Mario was strange; it's a fake! My birthday present!" a child cried in a game store.
Feelings of anger and disappointment spread rapidly like a virus.
The narrative of "Nintendo treating North America players differently" deeply hurt the hearts of many loyal fans.
Some hardcore fans even publicly stated they wanted "Nintendo to taste the same medicine as Atari."
Nintendo's brand image was cast under a thick shadow overnight.
Kyoto, Japan.
The atmosphere in Hiroshi Yamauchi's office at Nintendo Headquarters was even colder than a few days prior, like an ice cellar.
His subordinates in front of him hung their heads, not daring to breathe, listening to the frantic, almost wailing report from Minoru Arakawa, head of the North America branch, over the phone. Fine beads of sweat seeped from their foreheads, and some had backs drenched in sweat.
Hiroshi Yamauchi's face was ashen, and the teacup in his hand creaked as he squeezed it, fine cracks spreading from his fingertips.
"Crack!" The teacup finally couldn't withstand the pressure and shattered in his hand, hot tea splashing out, yet he seemed oblivious.
"Sega!"
He squeezed these two words through clenched teeth, his voice low but filled with suppressed fury and killing intent.
The subordinates around him all shivered.
NoA immediately initiated crisis public relations, issuing a statement explaining that the choice of Dream Factory for "optimization and adjustment" was made out of consideration for North America players' gaming experience, claiming that the original super mario bros. 2 was "too hardcore and did not align with the habits of mainstream North America players."
But this pale and weak defense seemed so ridiculous and hypocritical in the face of ironclad facts.
Players' response was: "We'd rather play the difficult real thing than the easy fake!"
"Are they treating us like three-year-olds?"
Within Nintendo, both the Japan Headquarters and the North America branch, pointed to Sega as the mastermind behind this "reskin" controversy.
In their view, Sega was using various methods, including e-sports and public opinion, to comprehensively undermine their foundation in North America.
The focus of their defense remained on how to counter Sega's overt product competition and marketing activities.
They still hadn't realized that the true decisive moves are often hidden in the most inconspicuous places.
El Segundo, California.
In a tightly secured conference room, negotiations were drawing to a close.
David Rosen wore his characteristic calm smile, shaking hands one by one with the blonde, blue-eyed Americans across from him.
They were senior representatives from Mattel, one of the world's largest toy manufacturers.
A thick, signed cooperation agreement lay quietly in the center of the conference table.
At Sega Headquarters, Mr. Ishida, head of the production department, was currently frowning deeply at a production plan.
In front of him, Takuya Nakayama looked relaxed, with a faint smile even playing on his lips, as if the astronomical production targets on the plan were merely a few Arabic numerals written down casually.
"Nakayama-san, this… this production target is simply too high."
Mr. Ishida's voice held a hint of doubt, as if he suspected the numbers on the plan were arbitrarily filled in by the other party, trying to convey his suspicion through his tone to avoid the awkwardness of directly pointing it out.
"Currently, even if all our domestic Japanese factories are dedicated to this new product, it will be difficult to complete it within the time frame you requested."
He pointed to the latest project Takuya had proposed on the plan, an electronic pet named "pokémon."
Its small LCD screen, simple buttons, and concise, exquisite design. It wasn't complicated to produce.
Mr. Ishida didn't doubt Takuya's vision; after all, the consecutive successes of Out Run and Sega Rally had already proven too much.
But the production quantity Takuya requested was simply too large. He was well aware that the production capacity of Sega's own factories and contract manufacturers simply couldn't handle such a demand.
"Mr. Ishida, I know this is difficult."
Takuya Nakayama leaned slightly forward, his gaze gentle yet carrying an undeniable force.
"Tell me the specific difficulties."
Mr. Ishida took a deep breath, as if making a decision.
"Nakayama-san, to be frank, young people nowadays would rather try their luck at financial companies or real estate agencies than work in factories. It's very difficult for us to expand our recruitment. And with expanded recruitment, we also need to simultaneously purchase production lines, even low-tech manual production lines, which is a considerable expense. Furthermore, future benefits… no one can guarantee them. This dilemma also exists in our affiliated contract factories."
Mr. Ishida shook his head as he spoke, but when he looked at Takuya, he found him with a knowing expression, which surprised him.
Takuya didn't mind and continued his words:
"After the Plaza Accord, the yen appreciated sharply, and the export prices of Japanese companies rose dramatically. It became increasingly difficult for manufactured goods to be exported."
"What's more, the Bank of Japan, in order to stimulate the economy, continuously cut interest rates, leading to a flood of hot money into real estate and finance domestically, which also attracted many young people to join. The manufacturing industry, with its meager profits, became increasingly unpopular, and labor costs also soared."
He listened to Takuya's account, then gave a bitter smile, the wrinkles on his face seeming to deepen.
"Therefore, your production requirements are truly difficult to meet."
Mr. Ishida spread his hands, his tone full of helplessness.
In his opinion, Takuya's demands, under the current general environment, were almost impossible to fulfill.
The air in the office became somewhat heavy because of Mr. Ishida's words.
Takuya Nakayama listened quietly, his expression unchanged, still wearing his characteristic confident smile.