Ajal.
patreon
Chapter 31 - Head-to-Head
🕑 Added 2025-09-14 11:52:38 +0000 UTCDeep autumn in Kyoto brought a crisp chill to the air.
At Nintendo’s headquarters, the Q4 game release schedule meeting was underway.
“The initial success in North America deserves recognition,” Hiroshi Yamauchi began, his voice low but commanding. “The popularity of Super Mario Bros. proves our content-first strategy is correct.”
He scanned the room. “Our top priority is accelerating localization to enrich the NES’s North American game lineup. That’s our foundation.”
He deftly shifted focus to Nintendo’s core strength, downplaying the impact of Sega’s handheld.
“As for handhelds…” Yamauchi paused, fingers tapping the desk lightly. “It’s just Tetris. No other game can match that success, and handhelds only have one title. They won’t make waves.”
He pivoted, looking at Gunpei Yokoi in the corner. “But Sega’s given us a wake-up call. With our robust software lineup, a cartridge-swappable handheld could extend the Famicom’s glory to that market. Yokoi-kun, this task is yours. I expect a feasibility report next meeting.”
Gunpei Yokoi’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Hai! I’ll get it done!”
Though Tetris’s staggering sales shook Yamauchi, it sparked a new idea: Nintendo would build a cartridge-based handheld to crush competitors with software superiority.
The meeting shifted to the upcoming winter sales season and release plans for key Famicom games.
Namco’s highly anticipated Pac-Man Famicom port, adapted from the arcade hit, was a focal point.
Then, the marketing director stood, his expression grave. “President, we’ve learned Sega’s secretly pushing a major arcade project with heavy investment, codenamed ‘K.’ Rumor has it, they’ve enlisted a renowned animation director and a big-name manga artist for a cross-media collaboration.”
“Animation tie-in? Manga artist?” Yamauchi’s brow furrowed, his fingers stilling. He caught the significance. With Sega’s investment and cross-media approach, this was no small move.
“Sega’s got big ambitions,” an executive muttered.
“They’re likely targeting the winter season or early next year, aiming to make a splash in the arcade market,” the marketing director added. “This could divert player attention, posing a threat to our winter Famicom sales.”
The room fell silent, all eyes on Yamauchi.
After a brief pause, he looked up, eyes sharp. “The Pac-Man Famicom release needs adjustment.”
“Adjustment?” the distribution executive asked, puzzled.
“Delay the launch,” Yamauchi said calmly, his tone unyielding. “Date TBD.”
Executives exchanged glances, confused why a flagship title would miss the Christmas rush.
Yamauchi, reading their thoughts, gave a faint smirk. “We need to see Sega’s ‘K’ project’s hand first—its game type, animation tie-in details, and launch timing.”
He paused, voice steady. “Pac-Man is a key piece. We can’t play it lightly. We’ll use it at the critical moment.”
His gaze swept the room. “Monitor every move of Sega’s ‘K’ project. Once we confirm their arcade launch date…”
A cunning glint crossed his eyes. “Namco’s Pac-Man Famicom version launches three days earlier.”
“Three days early?”
“Exactly,” Yamauchi affirmed. “At the peak of their hype, we’ll drop Pac-Man, a proven arcade port, to dominate media and player focus. We’ll disrupt their rhythm, steal their audience, and blunt their ‘big news.’”
The move was ruthless. The room stilled, executives quietly admiring Yamauchi’s cunning. Sacrificing Namco’s prime slot was cold, but in Yamauchi’s logic, third parties served the platform. They should be grateful for Nintendo’s support.
“It’s settled,” Yamauchi declared.
Tokyo, Ota Ward, Namco’s headquarters, Nakamura Masaya’s office.
A Nintendo marketing rep, in a sharp suit, wore a professional smile but spoke with detached formality.
He relayed Yamauchi’s decision with polished diplomacy.
“President Nakamura, regarding Pac-Man’s Famicom release, President Yamauchi, after careful consideration, has new thoughts.”
He spoke deliberately, gauging Nakamura’s reaction. “With fierce competition during the Christmas season and many strong titles, attention could be diluted. To ensure a high-quality game like Pac-Man gets focused marketing and resources…”
He paused. “President Yamauchi believes delaying the launch to avoid peak competition will highlight Pac-Man’s unique value and maximize sales, given its loyal fanbase and stellar reputation.”
Nakamura’s smile barely wavered, but his eyes darkened with a chill.
Avoid competition? Highlight value? Pretty words!
He sneered inwardly, seeing through Nintendo’s facade. Sega’s “K” project was making waves, and Namco, based in Tokyo, had heard whispers. Nintendo was using Pac-Man as cannon fodder to snipe Sega in the arcade market!
Pac-Man was Namco’s crown jewel. The Christmas season was sales gold. Did Nintendo not know? Third parties meticulously planned releases to minimize risk, banking on holiday spending to boost cartridge sales. Nintendo’s casual delay was blatant overreach!
“President Yamauchi’s considerations reflect his strategic vision,” Nakamura said evenly, his tone laced with restrained defiance. “But Pac-Man is our winter flagship. We’ve poured immense effort and resources into it. Our marketing and hype were built around a pre-Christmas launch. This slot is critical for our annual sales goals.”
He made a final plea, hoping Nintendo would consider its third-party ally’s interests.
But the rep’s stance was firm, politely reiterating the same points, adding, “This is President Yamauchi’s final decision. We hope President Nakamura understands and aligns with Nintendo’s broader strategy.”
No room for negotiation.
Nakamura fell silent, his hands on his knees clenching.
He knew, under Nintendo’s “rules,” third parties like Namco had no leverage. Defiance meant being cut off.
He slowly unclenched his fists, swallowing his anger and humiliation, forcing a polite smile. “Since it’s President Yamauchi’s decision, Namco will fully comply. Thank you for Nintendo’s thorough consideration of Pac-Man.”
The rep nodded, satisfied with Nakamura’s “cooperation,” and left.
The door clicked shut.
Nakamura’s smile vanished, his face darkening like a storm.
At the window, overlooking the bustling street, his gaze was icy. Nintendo’s high-handedness was a choking chain.
Today’s slight, Nakamura vowed to remember. Nintendo… your enemies might just become Namco’s friends. His eyes seemed to drift toward distant Tokyo.
