Sunday, 8 June 1994
Zaboru sits quietly at the USA branch of ZAGE, focused on designing a custom card for Sevin W—the winner of yesterday’s Mortal Kombat tournant. The event is still the talk of the gaming community.
He also decided that the Tekken Trailer should not be revealed during the Tournant because Tekken still needs another week to finish. Zaboru doesn’t want hype to die down too fast and make the developers rush.
He chuckles while glancing at his reflection, heltless while holding his helt on his arms.
"I guess I can’t always wear the helt at events like this."
Rumors have been swirling around Arica about people using Zaboru-lookalike helts to commit cris. His friends, Jas and Ryan from Erald Wings, warned him that continuing to wear the mask might lead to misunderstandings—or worse, false accusations. He sighs.
"Too bad... but it’s been fun." Zaboru simply wanted his presence to be iconic, much like Yokotaro in his previous life—always seen wearing the Emil Mask. But now, he’s far more famous than Yokotaro ever was, and that fa has its downsides. With rumors swirling and accusations targeting the ZAGE owner, Zaboru decided it was best to avoid unnecessary trouble by retiring the helt for live events, at least for now.
Another rumor that’s caught fire: that Zaboru isn’t one person but a collective. After all, how could one individual excel so effortlessly in ga design, comics, music, and event hosting? Zaboru finds these theories amusing and doesn’t mind if the myth continues—it adds to the mystique. Still, the recent cri allegations forced his hand. For now, the helt stays off.
Just as Zaboru resus crafting the card, sothing utterly unexpected unfolds—sothing he couldn’t have imagined in his wildest dreams: Michael Jackson is on his way to et him.
At that very mont, Michael sits inside a sleek, black car gliding through the streets of Los Angeles en route to ZAGE HQ. He turns to his assistant with a curious glance.
"You sure he’s at the ZAGE USA branch in L.A. right now?"
His assistant nods. "Yes, sir. Our informant confird he’s there. He rarely takes holidays and practically lives at the workplace when he’s in the USA branch."
Michael grins. "He’s a very passionate guy. I’m excited to et him."
Michael had tried multiple tis to contact Zaboru before, but Zaboru was always busy—or back in Japan. The fact that Zaboru kept turning down even Michael Jackson spoke volus about how little he cared for fa. That only made Michael more curious. Zaboru occasionally wrote great songs—so why had he never once made a music video for any of them?
Shortly after, Michael arrives at the ZAGE office. Wearing a hat and face mask for discretion, his assistant rings the bell.
Zaboru, still working, hears it.
"Visitors? Who could it be?"
He opens the door—and freezes. There, standing before him, is Michael Jackson, looking exactly as he did in 1984. The retro appearance isn’t surprising, given that the entertainnt industry in this tiline lags about a decade behind.
"Hello, Zaboru. Sorry for dropping in suddenly. You’re hard to catch, man. I happened to be in L.A. and thought—why not now?"
Zaboru smiles. "I see. Please co in, Mr. Jackson."
He welcos Michael and his assistant, Kimberly Daveson, a beautiful blonde woman into the office.
"Would you like a cold soda? I’m sorry, I don’t have much to offer."
Michael chuckles. "Plain water’s fine. I’m on a diet."
Zaboru nods. "What about you, Miss Daveson?"
She smiles and accepts a soda. Zaboru returns with their drinks.
"So, um, Mr. Jackson—"
"Call Michael," he interrupts with a grin.
"Okay, Michael. What brings you here today?"
Michael’s expression turns sincere. "I’m curious, Zaboru. Honestly, I’m also impressed by your vocals. Did you train your voice?" he asks.
Zaboru shakes his head with a relaxed smile. "Nope. Just sing naturally."
Michael nods, clearly affirming a suspicion. "Figured."
They continue chatting casually, the mood light and open. Then Michael suddenly pulls out a ZGB handheld console from his pocket. "I love gas. Especially Mighty Lion King. It’s got a great story," he says with a fond, happy smile.
He glances back at Zaboru, eyes gleaming with excitent. "Zaboru, can you make a ga about ? I want to be the main character. Can you create sothing good?"
Zaboru pauses, then smirks. "I might be able to—on one condition. You sing a song I’ve written, and I’ll choreograph the entire video clips for it."
Michael’s eyebrows shoot up. "That’s bold."
Kimberly scowls, her voice cutting. "You should know your place, Mr. Renkonan."
Michael raises a hand, dismissing her concern. "It’s fine, Kimberly. But yeah, that’s... an unusual question. How about I just pay you a few million, and you make the ga?"
Zaboru leans back calmly. "No deal, Michael. I’ve got standards. I do have a brilliant concept for your ga—but I need you to agree to my terms. Money’s not my motivator. If I’m going to make this right, I need you to bring my creation to life."
Michael raises an eyebrow but chuckles, clearly amused. True to his reputation, Zaboru genuinely doesn’t care much about money when it cos to his craft. Michael can’t help but admire the audacity it takes to make such a demand of a global superstar.
"So your gas require to do sothing in return? And how do you even know your song fits my style?" he asks, curious yet intrigued.
Zaboru grins. "Don’t worry. I’ve had this one in mind for a long ti and let tell you i’m your big fan too"
Michael pauses, letting the mont sit. "Alright. Give until tomorrow to decide. I’ll call you—or my assistant will co by."
"Deal," Zaboru says with a confident nod.
With that, Michael and Kimberly exit the office, the weight of an unusual proposition hanging in the air.
Later, Zaboru smirks to himself. The ga he envisions is Michael Jackson’s Moonwalker, a title created by SEGA in his previous life, a truly underrated ga. It featured Michael wearing the iconic Smooth Criminal outfit—but that song doesn’t even exist in this world yet. "If it doesn’t exist, I’ll introduce it myself. Hahaha," he mutters with a grin. Without hesitation, he sets to work—composing the song from scratch, plotting out every beat, and sketching the choreography for the music video. He’s determined to present it with confidence the next day With the help of Deep mory Dive and his extensive music knowledge, recreating the song is a breeze for him now. He had listened to these tracks so often in his previous life that they’ve beco second nature. As for the ga itself Zaboru of course will polish it and it will beco one ZAGE good ga.
Zaboru knows Michael Jackson isn’t just a perforr—he’s an open-minded artist with an unrelenting curiosity. In his previous life, there was even a wild rumor that Michael had once tried to buy the rights to Spider-Man when Marvel was declining just to play the role himself. It sounded ridiculous, sure—but it also spoke volus about MJ’s eccentricity and ambition.
anwhile, Michael discusses the visit with his team. He’s intrigued. Zaboru’s request was bold, but there was sothing genuine about it. His confidence, his passion—it wasn’t fake.
"He wasn’t joking," Michael says. "I think I want to see where this goes."
Kimberly frowned. "But Michael, it’s audacious. What if it turns out badly?"
"Don’t worry," Michael replied. "If it goes wrong, we can walk away. But I highly doubt soone like Zaboru would produce sothing half-hearted. He’s a rare kind of creator."
Michael remained genuinely curious about what Zaboru was cooking up for him.
On the morning of June 10, 1994, Zaboru t again with Michael Jackson—this was also Michael’s final day in Los Angeles.
Zaboru presented a docunt to Michael and said, "This is a contract. If you decide not to work with , you cannot leak any information regarding my songs or choreography. Please sign it if you agree."
Michael’s assistant reviewed the contract, confirming it outlined exactly what Zaboru had stated. After a brief pause, Michael signed it, agreeing to the terms.
Zaboru smiled and said, "Do you have ti to visit the recording studio? It’s nearby—I’ll show you the song." He led Michael there, and once inside, played the track for "Smooth Criminal." As the music filled the room, Zaboru mimicked Michael Jackson’s iconic singing style with impressive precision. He had recorded the track just the night before.
"Annie, Are you okay? Are you okay Annie?"
Michael was stunned. His eyes widened as he listened, visibly amazed by how well the song captured his essence. "This is incredible! It suits perfectly," he exclaid. "I’m excited, Zaboru—let’s collaborate!"
All the doubts Michael had before vanished in an instant. Zaboru smiled, pulling out the contract without hesitation. After reading it thoroughly, Michael signed it on the spot.
"I’ll visit you again soon," Michael said enthusiastically. "Let’s record and shoot the music video together." Zaboru smiled and nodded.
The deal was done—and a new artistic alliance had begun.
To be continued...
AN : This might be sudden but... HEE HEE! Can’t help it man. I just like Michael Jackson and I rember that there are gas of his in Sega that I played on emulators many years ago which I had a blast playing it!.
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