Kenzo Tsujimoto crushed his cigarette butt, which was burning dangerously close to his fingers, into the ashtray with a decisive glare.
"We need to notify the teams," he said, his voice tight. "Halt all ineffective marketing for our major titles immediately! Push all budgets to after February. Trying to compete with Final Fantasy VII right now is like throwing money into the Pacific Ocean!"
Hiroshi Kudo sighed and nodded. "Hudson is in the same boat. We'll pivot to casual games, ride the current market sentiment, and avoid a direct confrontation."
Kazumasa Kozuki lifted his sake cup, watching his reflection ripple in the liquid.
"To be humbled by a masterpiece like this... we lost this round fair and square," he said with a self-deprecating smile, his tone tinged with a sense of resignation.
Four glasses clinked in the air, producing a crisp yet helpless sound.
Kyoto, Nintendo Headquarters, Top-Floor President's Office.
Outside, a biting wind howled across the eaves of the ancient capital, but inside the office, the heater was cranked so high the air felt stiflingly hot.
Yamauchi Hiroshi leaned back expressionlessly in his oversized leather executive chair, flipping through a thick stack of sales reports.
His advanced age had etched sharp wrinkles around his eyes, yet the gaze hidden behind his reading glasses still held a chilling, formidable authority.
Sega's New Year's game sale, which they had spearheaded, had just concluded in a whirlwind of activity.
In this carnival that had swept across all of Japan and even North America, Nintendo's first-party teams had completely abstained. Sony, too, had chosen a deathly, patient silence.
Yet the real-time sales data from Akihabara, Shinjuku, and even from Best Buy and Walmart in distant North America, now lay verbatim on Yamauchi Hiroshi's solid wood desk.
Nintendo had operated its retail channels worldwide for decades. Its deeply ingrained foundation as a market hegemon allowed them to obtain market intelligence even more detailed and brutal than that of the third-party manufacturers fighting in the trenches of the shopping malls.
Snap! Snap!
Yamauchi flipped the pages with startling speed, his dry fingertips scraping against the paper with a harsh, impatient sound.
On the sofa opposite him, Shigeru Miyamoto sat rigidly upright, cradling a cup of steaming hot tea in both hands.
The rich aroma of tea permeated the air. The rising steam condensed at the boundary between the cold air and the heat, slightly blurring his signature black-rimmed glasses.
Hiroshi Yamauchi, the "Father of Video Games" who had single-handedly sustained half of Nintendo's empire, now held his breath, afraid to even sigh.
"Hmph!"
Suddenly, Yamauchi slammed the thick stack of reports in his hand onto the desk!
The dull thud echoed through the spacious office, startling a few wild pigeons perched outside the window, which flapped their wings and flew away from the balcony.
"Kazumasa Kozuki, Kenzo Tsujimoto—these fair-weather friends, are they finally feeling the pain now?" A sneer of undisguised mockery and coldness curved Yamauchi's lips. His voice was hoarse but still full of vigor. "They were so desperate to curry favor with Sega, cramming their major titles into the year-end release schedule. And the result? Square's Final Fantasy VII drained the players' wallets and sucked the very spirit out of them! Now a mountain of cartridges and discs is gathering dust in the warehouse. How utterly foolish!"
Though he ranted, the deep frown on Yamauchi's face didn't relax in the slightest.
Because he knew better than anyone that mocking third-party developers for their failure wouldn't change Nintendo's current predicament.
The N64—the ultimate machine he had pinned all his hopes on, the one he vowed would decisively end the 3D console wars—had failed to deliver.
Far from ending the war, Sega—riding the terrifying momentum of Square and the Jupiter Console—had driven Nintendo, the former hegemon, into a desperate defensive position, backed against a wall.
The crushing advantage of optical discs over cartridges was displayed in all its brutal glory by Square's four-CD monster of a game.
Shigeru Miyamoto silently placed his teacup back on the coffee table, the bottom of the cup making a faint clack against the glass surface.
He pushed up his glasses, his eyes showing no sign of defeat. Instead, a near-obsessive fire burned within them.
As a game craftsman who strove for perfection, Miyamoto's reaction to playing Final Fantasy VII was not just awe, but a surge of competitive spirit.
"President, the final sales tally for the N64 over the Christmas and New Year holidays is out," Miyamoto said, respectfully handing over a thin document held in a red folder. "While our single-player RPG line has indeed suffered a severe blow from the direct impact of Final Fantasy VII—we have held our ground on the living room party battlefield."
Yamauchi Hiroshi reached out, took the folder, and flipped it open. His gaze fell immediately on the final tally at the bottom of the page.
The holiday sales curve for Mario Kart 64 traced a stunningly beautiful, even bizarrely defiant upward arc!
While core gamers worldwide were locked in their bedrooms—weeping, exhausted, and refusing to think—over the tragedy of Cloud and Aerith, the demand for family gatherings in the West and the social necessity of visiting friends during the Lunar New Year forcibly propelled this seemingly "unpretentious" kart racer to the top of the sales charts.
Four hundred and fifty thousand units during Christmas week, followed by another two hundred thousand after New Year's!
"As of yesterday, the N64's total global install base—" Shigeru Miyamoto took a deep breath and spoke with absolute certainty, "has officially surpassed six million units!"
Yamauchi Hiroshi said nothing. He simply leaned back into his spacious chair, closed his eyes, and tapped his fingers rhythmically on the solid wood desk.
Tap—tap—tap—
Each strike echoed in Miyamoto's heart.
Six million units.
Against the head start of Sega's Jupiter and Sony's PlayStation—both of which had been on the market for a year and a half—Nintendo had managed to seize a six-million-unit empire from the jaws of its rivals, relying solely on the unique gameplay appeal of its first-party titles!
This proved one thing—Nintendo's gaming philosophy was not dead!
As long as there were people in the world who craved pure joy, as long as families and friends still needed to sit on the same sofa and laugh together, Nintendo's die-hard core audience would always be there. The N64 would never be dead in the water!
"Six million units..." After a long silence, Yamauchi Hiroshi finally opened his eyes. A sharp glint of frustration flashed in those old eyes. "Not enough. Miyamoto-kun, for Nintendo, merely surviving is failure! This six million is just enough to keep us from being kicked off the table. It's far from enough to win!"
Shigeru Miyamoto immediately straightened his back and said in a low voice, "I understand, President!"
"Square has brainwashed the world's players with cinematic storytelling and pre-rendered CG, making them believe that is the future of 3D games." Yamauchi Hiroshi leaned forward, his hands pressing down on the table with an unquestionable, dictatorial air. "But games are ultimately meant to be played, not watched! How is the development of the new The Legend of Zelda progressing?"
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