Kazumasa Kozuki's hand tightened on his teacup, sending a few drops splashing onto the expensive carpet.
Four million copies!
What did that even mean?
This wasn't just a phenomenon-level sales miracle. It represented a staggering net profit in the tens of millions, if not hundreds of millions, of dollars!
"I really shouldn't have let him go," Kozuki sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. His expression was a complex mix of emotions.
His heart was bleeding—not from the loss of a talented employee, but because the profits from those four million copies, which should have flowed into Konami's coffers, were now padding Sega's financial reports.
"President, we had no choice at the time," Nishida quickly chimed in, offering his boss an excuse. "President Yamauchi and Gunpei Yokoi from Nintendo were putting immense pressure on us. Besides, the development budget and timeline Hideo Kojima was demanding far exceeded our usual red lines..."
Kozuki closed his eyes. The memory of how he had ruthlessly swept Kojima out the door to preserve Konami's honeymoon period with Nintendo flashed through his mind.
How ironic.
He, the cunning old fox, had miscalculated the most important equation of all.
The young man he had discarded like a pawn had taken Sega's money and created a game that shook the world.
"I heard Hideo Kojima isn't working on a new game right now?" Kazumasa Kozuki opened his eyes, his gaze flickering.
"That's right. He's making an anime instead," Nishida said, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Sega is funding it entirely. They even set up a temporary animation studio just for him, making him the director. They've even paid a fortune to hire Mamoru Oshii as the executive producer to oversee the project. They're literally throwing money at him just to let him play around with a cross-media venture."
Kazumasa Kozuki set down his teacup, a self-deprecating sneer curling his lips.
Takuya Nakayama.
Sega's young Managing Director was ruthless to the extreme!
Having navigated the business world for decades, Kazumasa Kozuki saw through the logic instantly.
Takuya Nakayama had used cold, hard cash and absolute creative freedom to buy Hideo Kojima's loyalty once and for all!
Not only did he grant him full authority, but he also let him pursue his dream of making a movie.
This kind of boldness—treating money like dirt—was something an old-school company like Konami could never pull off.
What's more terrifying is that Sega's current ecosystem is snowballing, growing larger and more powerful by the day.
"Have you seen Tecmo's new fighting game?" Kazumasa Kozuki suddenly asked.
"I have," Nishida replied, a flicker of disdain in his eyes. "It's Dead or Alive, led by Tomonobu Itagaki. Let's be honest—it's just using the latest arcade board's capabilities to create jiggling breast physics for female characters to attract attention. It's vulgar and completely devoid of substance."
"Vulgar? Maybe. But it's making money!"
Kazumasa Kozuki snorted coldly, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. "Go to the arcades in Akihabara and see for yourself! Young people are practically trampling each other to get in line and drop coins into that machine! Takuya Nakayama lent them the most advanced Model 2 arcade board precisely because he knew how to target the wallets of these hormone-driven youths!"
The more Kazumasa Kozuki thought about it, the more alarmed he became.
By recruiting third-party developers, providing them with overwhelming technical support, and allowing producers to push boundaries with suggestive content or even cross-genre experimentation, Sega was funneling all the traffic and profits back into its own Jupiter platform.
This young man wasn't just making games. He was building an impregnable empire of shared interests!
In stark contrast, Konami was still desperately clinging to the glory of the 8-bit era, outsourcing its flagship IPs to third-rate studios that were merely milking nostalgia.
The difference in vision was night and day.
But Kazumasa Kozuki was, above all else, a businessman. Sentimentalism wouldn't plug the holes in the financial reports. The company needed to survive; it needed to make more money.
"Go. Bring the head of the Development Department to my office. Now," Kozuki said, standing up abruptly. His eyes had regained their hawk-like intensity.
Nishida didn't dare delay. He acknowledged the order and hurried out of the office.
Minutes later, the Development Manager arrived, sweat dripping from his brow as he knocked and stepped inside.
"President, you wanted to see me?"
"Halt all those unprofitable 2D spin-off projects still in the planning phase!" Kozuki barked, wasting no time. "Except for the main sequel to Tokimeki Memorial, cancel every other minor spin-off game!"
He issued the command without hesitation. "Concentrate all our funding and manpower!"
The Development Manager froze, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. "President, you mean—"
"We are going all-in on 3D! A complete, total transition!"
Kazumasa Kozuki leaned forward, hands planted firmly on the desk, like a gambler pushing in his last chip. "Go out and headhunt the best! I want programmers who know 3D engines inside and out, artists who can master polygonal camera work—anyone with real talent, bring them all in! There's no limit on the budget. Offer them packages they can't refuse!"
"But President, if we start making a huge push into 3D titles now, Nintendo will—" The Development Manager hesitated, his face clouded with concern. He was clearly still wary of the industry's former undisputed champion.
"I don't care!" Kozuki cut him off without hesitation, his voice laced with a ruthless determination. "The N64's install base doesn't even come close to a fraction of the Jupiter's! When they manage to sell five million consoles, then we can consider a porting plan. Right now, Konami's top priority is surviving the 32-bit era!"
Kozuki stepped around his desk and walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window, gazing down at the teeming traffic of Tokyo below.
"It's time we made our move." A glint of greed and ambition flashed in the old fox's eyes.
December arrived.
Tokyo's temperature plummeted to the single digits. A biting wind howled through the streets, carrying a bone-chilling cold.
Yet, the streets of Akihabara showed no sign of winter's desolation.
The glass storefronts of every major video game retailer were completely taken over by two massive, visually striking posters, standing like two opposing battle flags.
On the left, Cloud stood with his back to the steel tower of Shinra Headquarters, his iconic Buster Sword slung over his shoulder. The scene radiated a cyberpunk vibe. On the right, Mario was in his kart, a mischievous grin on his face as he threw a homing Red Shell—a joyful image so vibrant it was impossible to look away.
The gaming market in November had already been lively enough.
In the arcades, crowds packed the Dead or Alive cabinets day and night, the joysticks being slammed with thunderous force.
After years of witnessing the year-end gaming market, veteran players knew the score: December was the true battleground, where all the major blockbusters were released in a concentrated burst.
But the ridiculously captivating "physics feedback" of Dead or Alive was just too addictive. Those two bouncing masses of pixelated flesh were ruthlessly draining handfuls of coins from the pockets of countless hot-blooded high schoolers and scrawny college students, leaving the arcade owners raking in the profits.
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