Ajal.
patreon
Chapter 179: The Olympics Come to a Close
🕑 Added 2025-10-29 09:05:17 +0000 UTCIn the president's office, the ashtray was already overflowing.
The young planner pressed the stop button on the VCR.
The faint click from the videotape was the only sound in the room.
The president's chubby fingers stubbed out the cigarette butt, but his gaze never left the somewhat old Sharp TV.
On the screen, Sega's LOGO shone side by side with the Seoul Olympics emblem.
"When did you start noticing?"
The president leaned back in his chair, his voice somewhat hoarse—whether from praise or exhaustion was unclear.
"From the moment I saw the qualifier 'non-sports' in their suggestion letter."
The president nodded slowly, shifting his gaze from the report to the gray sky outside the window.
"Sega has been playing this chess game since the beginning of the year."
"They didn't just predict the market—in a way, they *are* the market itself."
He picked up the market analysis report the planner had rushed overnight.
The title was simple: *Product Planning Adjustment Plan for the September "Silent Period"*.
The president flipped through it. Behind his thick glasses, a flash of surprise crossed his eyes, then dimmed.
He saw the planner's precise dissection of Sega's dual-product strategy, as well as the reluctant suggestion to delay the company's existing products and preserve cash flow.
This was undoubtedly the most rational—and only—path forward.
"Do it as you say."
The president closed the report and sank heavily into his chair.
"For this period, the market is yours to watch."
"Yes, President."
The planner bowed deeply. As he turned to leave, he could feel the president's complex gaze—mixed with appreciation, helplessness, and a hint of expectation.
At the same moment, in a typical Japanese-style apartment in Chiyoda Ward, another small-scale war was erupting.
"Dad! Give me back the TV! My hero is about to fight the demon king!"
Sixth-grader Kenta hugged a brand-new RPG cartridge, loudly protesting against his father who had monopolized the TV.
On the screen, the NHK host was enthusiastically introducing Japan's Olympic team's preparations.
The father didn't even turn his head, fully focused on the screen.
"You can fight the demon king anytime—the Olympics only come once every four years! This is a big deal for national glory!"
"But I've been waiting a whole week!"
"Then wait two more! Have some national pride, Kenta!"
The father and son's argument grew louder, on the verge of becoming a family crisis.
At that moment, their mother, wearing an apron, came out of the kitchen carrying a fruit platter.
"Alright, alright, stop fighting."
She placed the platter on the low table and proposed a compromise.
"Kenta, didn't you say your new console can also play sports games? Since your dad wants to watch the Olympics so much, how about we hold a 'family sports meet' together?"
Kenta's eyes lit up.
The father thought it was a good idea too—it satisfied his interest in sports while letting him play with his son.
Thus, the RPG cartridge bearing swords and magic was temporarily set aside, replaced by a copy of *EA Olympics* with the Olympic rings on the cover.
Soon, the living room filled with the "clack-clack" of clumsy controller inputs and the shouts of father and son over a virtual 100-meter sprint.
The MD console became the only entertainment the whole family could agree on in this Olympic fever-swept household.
On the streets of Akihabara, Olympic promotional banners were even more eye-catching than anime posters.
In a game specialty store, the owner was venting to a third-party sales rep who had come to stock shelves.
"Please, Waya-san, it's not that I'm not helping you—look."
The owner pointed to the shelves.
The most prominent, prime positions were stacked with *EA Olympics* and *Sega New Record* cartridges.
Games from other manufacturers, including the new title Waya was responsible for, were squeezed into an inconspicuous corner, gathering a faint layer of dust.
"Now, no one asks about anything except these two."
"Once the Olympics started, half the young shoppers disappeared—they all went home to watch TV."
Waya looked at the lifeless shelves and could only let out a helpless sigh.
Almost simultaneously, across the ocean at Sega of America, an exciting sales report was being faxed back to Japan headquarters.
The numbers were clear and powerful: before the Olympics opening, *EA Olympics* sales in North America had approached one million units.
Sega's Olympic strategy was a complete victory.
Of course, the market never lacks stubborn warriors.
A little-known small studio refused to believe it. On September 20, in the heat of the Olympics, they forcibly released an action game called *Iron Fist*.
They poured all their remaining promo budget into buying a few ad slots in late-night TV after Olympic events.
However, those ads sank like stones in the ocean—not even a ripple.
A week later, in the corner of an industry magazine, the game's sales data appeared: under 5,000 units in the first week.
This number quickly became a negative example on every manufacturer's president's desk, silently mocking those who swam against the current.
Time came to early October. The Seoul Olympics flame was officially extinguished, but the buzz on Tokyo's streets showed no signs of cooling.
Only the topic shifted from cheering for athletes to collective complaints about the host nation's lack of sportsmanship.
The entertainment market, suppressed for nearly two months by the Olympics, finally breathed a sigh of relief and began to revive.
On this day, in the top-floor conference room of Sega headquarters.
After two months of negotiations and legal exchanges, the final step had arrived.
Sunrise Animation president Masanori Ito sat upright with his legal team.
Across from him were Hayao Nakayama and his son, along with Director Hattori.
On the table, two thick share purchase agreements were neatly placed.
"President Ito, you've worked hard during this time," Hayao Nakayama said steadily, with the aura of a corporate helmsman.
"You're too kind, President Nakayama," Masanori Ito smiled in response. "Thanks to Sega's high regard—though it's only 3%, the price offered is very sincere."
This slightly teasing remark eased the serious business atmosphere in the room.
Takuya smiled: "Cooperating with an industry pillar like Sunrise is Sega's honor—and my personal honor as well. Please continue to guide us in the future, President Ito."
After brief pleasantries, both sides said no more.
Under the lawyer's guidance, Kio Nakayama and Masanori Ito signed their names on the agreements and stamped the company seals.
The documents were exchanged.
When Masanori Ito shook hands with Hayao Nakayama, it marked Sega officially prying open Sunrise Animation's door.
Though only a mere 3% stake, this wedge was firmly driven in.
After seeing off Ito and his team, only the Nakayama father and son remained in the conference room.
Kio Nakayama stepped to Takuya and straightened his slightly crooked tie.
"The strategic layout to shake Bandai's foundation—this first piece is in place."
Hayao Nakayama turned to Director Hattori: "The real battlefield begins now. You two must work closely. Hattori, stay in close contact with Sunrise as well."
Takuya Nakayama and Director Hattori nodded solemnly.
