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Chapter 768 Sonaya Solution.
🕑 Added 2025-11-11 04:01:58 +0000 UTCChapter 768 Sonaya Solution.
Meanwhile, inside the bustling headquarters of Sonaya, Hikaru Kurata sat alone in his office, massaging his forehead in frustration. The monthly executive meeting had just concluded, and while most of Sonaya's divisions were experiencing remarkable success—ranging from their cutting-edge camera technology and popular home electronics to booming entertainment ventures—one department remained a persistent thorn in his side: the video game sector.
The disparity was growing more obvious each quarter. Sonaya's Camera Division had reported record profits, and their Electronics Appliance Department had seen a sharp rise in global market share, particularly in Southeast Asia. Their Entertainment Division, which managed everything from music to anime licensing, had just secured multiple blockbuster contracts. Internally, there was a growing sense of optimism and forward momentum—except when it came to gaming.
Despite massive investments and relentless attention from Hikaru himself, the video game department was lagging. Not just in sales, but in innovation, influence, and relevance. Hikaru had championed this sector personally, advocating for it in every boardroom discussion. But now, even some board members and fellow executives were beginning to question his prioritization of a division that was draining resources without yielding proportional returns.
As Hikaru leaned back in his chair, he stared out his office window at the Sonaya skyline, pondering the deep contrast within his own company: prosperity in nearly every field—except the one closest to his heart.
There had been a growing number of complaints from other departments across Sonaya, each echoing the same concern—that the video game division was receiving far too much attention and investment from Hikaru Kurata himself. As both the CEO and a major shareholder, Hikaru had made it no secret that he deeply believed in the potential of gaming. But that personal passion was becoming harder to justify. The reality was stark: the video game sector for Sonaya continued to bleed money and deliver underwhelming returns.
Even after several rounds of financial injections and promotional campaigns, the numbers simply weren’t improving. The recent release of the ZEPS 3 console from ZAGE had really nail Sonaya coffins. Despite being priced lower than competitors to attract market share, the Game Station 32-bit console failed to make a significant dent. Sales were lukewarm, and third-party support was thinning.
To make matters worse, several game development studios that Sonaya had acquired in recent years were struggling to stay afloat. These studios, once viewed as promising investments, were now burdened by low sales and minimal revenue streams. They weren’t receiving enough financial returns to sustain ambitious projects, creating a feedback loop of underperformance. Hikaru Kurata found himself increasingly overwhelmed by the mounting pressure. He was caught between his personal loyalty to gaming and the harsh financial reality that it was becoming a major liability for Sonaya as a whole.
His headache wasn’t just from overwork—it was the weight of knowing that his dream of making Sonaya a dominant name in gaming might be slipping further out of reach with each passing quarter.
“How should we approach this?” Hikaru Kurata muttered to himself, feeling the mounting pressure of the situation. Despite being Sonaya's CEO and a major shareholder, he knew that passion alone couldn't justify continued losses. He needed to consult with Ken Kutaragi and Junpei Hoshida, not just to discuss the matter—but to do so with transparency and fairness.
He had always loved the Game Department. It was a personal investment, not just a professional one. But the cold truth was that if a department didn’t generate revenue, it couldn't be allowed to keep draining resources unchecked. And now, with ZAGE utterly overwhelming them in the marketplace, the challenge had evolved into something far more daunting than he had expected.
ZAGE’s dominance wasn’t just frustrating—it was humbling. What once felt like an exciting competition was quickly becoming a brutal reminder of how far behind Sonaya had fallen in the gaming industry.
“I can’t quit. Sonaya can’t quit. Because if we do, then we truly lose,” Hikaru Kurata muttered to himself, staring blankly at the screen in front of him. “If we stay at number two, that’s still respectable. It’s survivable. But with Zaboru around, ZAGE will keep thriving—and surpassing them seems almost impossible. They’ve become the undisputed kings of the video game industry.”
His thoughts drifted to the moment that had cemented ZAGE’s dominance in a way he never anticipated: the infamous “I’m Your Nightmare Come to Life” concert. What was meant to be a grand Electronic Showcase event hosted by Sonaya had turned into a public relations nightmare. Zaboru had not only appeared unannounced, but delivered a performance so theatrical and biting that it humiliated Sonaya on their own stage. The song, crafted with haunting precision and dripping with metaphor, had been a scathing commentary on Sonaya’s stagnation and inability to compete.
Hikaru had always known Zaboru was a creative force—but this went beyond innovation. It was warfare through artistry. He still couldn’t fully understand how someone could weaponize a performance so effectively. It was a blow not just to the company’s image, but to Hikaru personally.
To be fair, Sonaya had pushed ZAGE hard in the months leading up to that event. Maybe too hard. And now, they were paying the price. The message was clear: ZAGE wasn’t just untouchable—they were dangerous when provoked. And Hikaru realized that, at least for now, Sonaya would need to play smarter, not louder, if they wanted to stand a chance.
After some time, Ken Kutaragi and Junpei Hoshida finally arrived to meet with Hikaru Kurata in his office. The atmosphere was heavy, the kind that lingered when all parties already knew the weight of what needed to be said. Junpei didn’t hold any resentment—he understood that both he and Ken had done their best under increasingly difficult circumstances.
Junpei was the first to speak, his voice calm but direct. He had clearly thought this through. “Boss, I’ll be honest with you. As things stand right now, I don’t believe there’s much Sonaya can do to dramatically increase Game Station sales in the short term. We’re losing to ZAGE on every front—pricing, performance, and popularity. I’m sorry to be this blunt, but that’s the reality.”
Ken Kutaragi sat quietly beside him, offering no rebuttal. He knew Junpei was right. The silence between them wasn’t discomfort—it was acknowledgment.
Hikaru Kurata sat in silence. He didn’t reprimand Junpei; instead, he responded calmly, “I know that, Junpei. But what I’m asking is—how do we fix this? Do you have any ideas?”
Junpei replied, “Honestly, based on where we stand right now, I don’t think there’s a direct solution to turn things around overnight.”
Hikaru frowned, but he noticed Junpei wasn’t finished.
“But,” Junpei continued, “we can shift our approach. Right now, we don’t need to take unnecessary risks launching new IPs. What we should do is focus on optimizing and revitalizing the strongest franchises we already have. We need to deliver high-quality sequels that our existing fans are eager to play. That loyalty can be our foundation.”
He added, “Also, there’s one major gap in ZAGE’s lineup—sports games. So far, they haven’t heavily invested in that genre. Maybe it’s not their area of interest. If we take advantage of that and double down on developing top-tier sports titles, we can dominate a segment they’ve overlooked. Even if ZAGE eventually moves in, we’ll have established a strong lead.”
Hikaru nodded thoughtfully. Junpei had a point. It might not be a full solution, but it was a viable path forward in a tough market.
en Kutaragi spoke up, “But that doesn’t seem like a feasible solution. What if the fans aren’t interested in sequels and instead want something fresh—new titles from us?”
Junpei shook his head. “Our most well-known IPs have a strong, loyal fan base. If we release sequels from those franchises, it’s very likely that fans will buy them. On the other hand, releasing entirely new titles is a much riskier move right now. Players simply aren’t paying attention to new releases from us—not when ZAGE is dominating the scene.”
He continued, “ZAGE has gone all-out with their ZEPS 3 lineup. Their games are everywhere. And to make things worse, they’ve given their third-party developers access to their proprietary Unreal Engine Z3, a powerful tool optimized for ZEPS 3 development. With that kind of support system in place, they’re miles ahead. That’s why we need to focus on refining what already works—our existing IPs.”
Hikaru Kurata took a moment to reflect on Junpei's suggestion. As much as it pained him to admit, it was clear that Sonaya's Game Station was unlikely to regain major traction in the immediate future. However, there was still value in pushing their most iconic franchises. Even if the Game Station couldn’t dominate the market, releasing strong sequels from beloved IPs could at least stabilize their position and keep fans engaged for the rest of the year.
“I see,” Hikaru finally said. “Then let’s go ahead with it. Let’s focus on our strongest IPs. But we can’t completely abandon new titles either. We still need to innovate—but for now, the priority is clear: more sequels, fewer risks.”
Junpei Hoshida nodded with understanding and a sense of renewed purpose. “Sure thing, boss. I’ll get started on a draft. I’ll work with the team to brainstorm which franchises are ripe for sequels and which titles we can realistically push out within the next cycle.”
With that, the Sonaya video game team sprang back into motion. Even with the looming shadow of ZAGE and the constant comparisons to their rival’s success, they refused to surrender. Determination took hold. They may have been trailing in the race, but they still had fight left—and that was more than enough to spark the next
step forward.
To be continue
Comments
rain
It’s good that the Sonaya executives have finally woken up, it’s a publicly traded company, Hikaru doing everything on his own in deciding for Sonaya would have been weird. I’m curious about their entertainment though, is their entertainment bigger than ZAGE? What about in Japan specifically, since it mentions anime? What does Sonaya think about the acquisition of Jump? Since ZAGE also directly takes part in entertainment, I’m curious.
Rycork
It's ironic because it's personally what I criticize the entertainment industry for today: they no longer dare to innovate and rely too heavily on "sure things" to make easy money. Except they do it on "autopilot" and no longer think, which leads to garbage that tarnishes the image of these franchises that didn't ask for any of this.
