Playing Mario Kart 64 alone slashed its enjoyment by a full eighty percent.
Without a mischievous friend by your side—someone who would drive you so mad you'd want to kick them—the game was simply unplayable.
Takashi let out a long sigh and pressed the console's power button. The screen instantly went black.
He turned his head to look beside him.
On the floor lay an unopened plastic-wrapped box, as heavy as a brick. It was Final Fantasy VII.
He owned a Jupiter console and had gritted his teeth to buy the game at launch. But he'd forced himself to unwrap Mario Kart 64 first, planning to save Final Fantasy VII for a slow burn over the New Year. After all, the sheer volume of four optical discs sounded like it would consume countless days and nights.
By comparison, it wasn't that no one bought Mario Kart 64. Many N64 owners bought a copy just to have it on their shelves.
However, for anyone who also owned Final Fantasy VII, their copy of Mario Kart 64 usually remained unopened and gathering dust. Only those who didn't have a PlayStation and had bought an N64 instead would actually unwrap it, trying to find some fun in single-player mode.
Takashi now felt that his decision to unwrap Mario Kart first was absolutely idiotic.
He picked up the phone receiver and dialed his friend Kenta's number.
Ring... ring...
After a dozen or so rings, someone finally answered.
"Hello? Who is this? Make it quick!"
The voice on the other end sounded extremely impatient. In the background, Takashi could faintly hear intense orchestral music and the sharp gasps of several other boys.
"Kenta, it's me, Takashi. Come on, let's play Mario Kart! I'll bring the controllers to your place, and we can get four of us together—"
"No time! Can't you tell I'm busy?!" Kenta rudely cut him off. "Cloud is about to fight Sephiroth! This CG sequence is insane! Naoki, Takuya, and the rest are all here staring at the screen! You coming or not? If not, I'm hanging up. Don't tie up my line!"
"Hey, wait! You guys aren't even eating?"
Beep... Beep... Beep...
Takashi stood frozen for several seconds, listening to the dial tone.
In this winter, gathering four friends to play Mario Kart 64 was simply too difficult. After all, most of his friends—even those who couldn't afford Final Fantasy VII—would choose to go to the house of a friend who had bought it. They'd cram onto a single sofa, huddled together, and watch him play. Even just watching the story unfold was more thrilling than playing a game themselves.
Takashi hung up the phone and stared again at the unopened copy of Final Fantasy VII.
He grabbed the plastic case and tore off the shrink wrap without hesitation.
Santa Monica, Los Angeles.
Mike sat in a dimly lit entertainment room converted from a garage, boredly pressing buttons on a controller. Empty beer cans littered the floor around him.
On the TV screen, Luigi was tearing through Bowser's Castle in his go-kart.
Mike had been running time trials alone for three hours, repeatedly breaking his own lap records.
But he couldn't feel any joy; instead, he grew increasingly furious.
He grabbed the cordless phone beside him and dialed his best friend Marcus's number.
"Hey, Marcus! Stop rotting in your dorm and come over to my place to play Mario Kart 64! I bought four controllers just for you guys!"
Marcus's voice came through the line, hushed yet crackling with excitement.
"Shut up, Mike! David just got to Disc 2! Alice—oh my god, this plot! Don't talk! I'm gonna miss a line!"
"What Alice? What the hell are you talking about? Come play racing! Pizza's on me!"
"Hanging up! Don't call back, you uncultured philistine!"
Mike listened to the dial tone, then threw his controller onto the sofa in a rage.
He stormed over to a cardboard box in the corner, rummaging through it like a caged beast.
"Damn it! I should've queued up at Best Buy last Friday for Final Fantasy VII!" he muttered bitterly, kicking the box.
Final Fantasy VII was like a massive black hole that had appeared out of nowhere.
It didn't just drain the wallets of countless players worldwide; more terrifyingly, it sucked dry the social lives of the entire gaming community.
Nintendo had tried to maintain player loyalty with four-player split-screen party games—a brilliant move, in theory. But Square and Sega countered with an utterly immersive single-player experience, visuals so stunning they made your scalp prickle, and a cinematic narrative of profound depth, nailing players to their television sets. Even those who should have been playing the "jerk" in a party game were now glued to the screen of Final Fantasy VII, content to simply watch.
In this frenzied winter, Mario Kart 64 became a backup title—something you bought but only "set aside for later." Final Fantasy VII, meanwhile, was the absolute dominant theme, ruling every player's life and devouring all their free time.
Tokyo, Chiyoda Ward. The Famitsu editorial office. It was already three o'clock on a Tuesday morning.
The office area was thick with the heavy scent of tobacco and the acrid tang of instant coffee.
A dozen or so CRT monitors cast a faint, ghostly glow across the room.
Takahashi, an editor, rubbed his stiff, aching neck and pressed the pause button on his controller. The TV screen froze on a shot of Cloud Strife speeding down the highway on his heavy motorcycle.
Sato, the Editor-in-Chief, pushed through the glass door and strode in, a stack of blank layout sheets gripped in his hand. He slammed them down on Takahashi's desk.
"Takahashi, where's the review? The print shop needs the final plates by eight tomorrow morning, and you haven't even given me a headline!"
Takahashi turned around, his eyes bloodshot. "I can't finish it, Chief. It's impossible. I've played for thirty hours straight, and I haven't even cleared the first disc. The scope of this game is insane—the hidden elements and side quests are endless."
Sato frowned, his gaze sweeping across the rest of the editorial office. "What about the others?"
"Yamada's on his second disc," Takahashi said, pointing to a figure hunched over a keyboard in the corner. "He's skipping all the side quests, but he's still nowhere near the end. Suzuki's stuck in the Shinra Building's labyrinth. And Kimura's even worse—he's been talking to NPCs in the slums for three hours, determined to uncover every scrap of lore."
Sato pulled over a folding chair and sat down, fishing a pack of Seven Stars cigarettes from his pocket and lighting one.
"We can't wait," Sato said, exhaling a ring of smoke. "It launches on Saturday, and today is Tuesday. Our readers are desperate to know if this game is actually worth buying. It's sold out everywhere—everyone who couldn't get a copy is waiting for our review to quench their thirst. If we miss this window, next week's sales will be halved."
Takahashi scratched his greasy hair. "But giving a score without finishing the game goes against our rules. What if the story falls apart at the end?"
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