"Snap."
A soft sound broke the silence. Hayao Nakayama gently placed his pen on the desk, his gaze on his son brimming with pride and admiration before turning to the directors. "Any further comnts? If not, let's vote."
Director Yoshikawa, responsible for third-party relations, cleared his throat, setting the tone. "I agree with Executive Nakayama. This outreach must be all-in or not at all. Half-asures waste ti and make Sega look weak, inviting underestimation."
His words earned nods of approval. The vote began. Several conservative directors abstained, but not one opposed. Takuya's stellar track record, far-sighted vision, and bold, ticulous plan had won their trust. A blitzkrieg to reshape the gaming industry was set in motion.
For two weeks, Sega's headquarters beca a war machine. The "Third-Party Task Force" occupied half a floor, lights blazing day and night. Phones shrilled, fax machines humd, footsteps echoed. Takuya, at the storm's center, eyes bloodshot but burning with fervor, oversaw a whiteboard listing dozens of third-party nas, marked with negotiation progress, demands, and key figures' weaknesses—data fueling the campaign.
At 9 p.m., a piercing phone call shattered a brief calm. The Osaka team targeting Capcom sounded anxious. "Executive, trouble. Capcom's execs doubt MD's 2D graphics capabilities, fearing it can't handle *Street Fighter*'s large sprites and smooth animations."
Takuya, unruffled, pinched his brow. While calming the team, he dialed the hardware R&D core expert. "Imdiately package our demo showcasing MD's parallax scrolling and large sprite processing. Send it to Capcom's Osaka HQ tonight." Hanging up, he told the team, "Words are cheap. Let them see MD's muscle. Tell them this is just the start—our engineers will help them max out the machine."
His calm authority steadied the team, showcasing his exceptional expertise. On April 16, evening, the day's final reports landed on Takuya's desk. He marked green checkmarks on Taito and Jaleco, signaling deals secured, easing his taut nerves. Glancing at a beautifully designed invitation—Studio Ghibli's *My Neighbor Totoro* premiere—he decided to step away from the war briefly.
Instead of heading straight to the venue, Takuya visited an upscale barbershop. A warm towel soothed his fatigue, the barber's skill taming his disheveled hair and stubble. Back at his apartnt, he swapped his smoke-and-coffee-stained shirt for a sharp, dark gray casual suit.
At Tokyo's Imperial Theatre, the post-screening reception buzzed with elegance. Takuya's arrival stirred little notice among the cultural elite until a bearded man approached—Hayao Miyazaki. The animation master pulled Takuya into his inner circle, clapping his shoulder and booming, "Everyone, et Sega's Takuya Nakayama, an incredible young man! I thought ga execs were all about violence and profit, but he's the first to discuss character arcs and emotional depth with !"
Miyazaki's endorsent rippled through the crowd, drawing curious glances. He introduced Takuya to two n: "This is Mamoru Oshii, and this is Hideaki Anno." Takuya's eyes flashed with excitent. Shaking Oshii's hand, he said, "Mr. Oshii, your exploration of reality versus illusion in your work is profoundly inspiring." Turning to Anno, "Mr. Anno, the unique chanical aesthetics in *Royal Space Force* are unforgettable."
His precise praise hit each creator's pride. Oshii's stoic face betrayed faint surprise, while Anno's shy eyes lit up with recognition. The reception ended warmly, with Takuya exchanging cards and contacts with both. Smiling at Anno, he said, "I hear Gainax is a hub of eccentric talent. I'd love to visit soday." Anno agreed eagerly.
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