With the third-party war settled, Sega secured a lineup rivaling Nintendo's. Coupled with MD's performance edge, the outlook was bright. Now, the battle hinged on ga libraries, particularly first-party exclusives.
Back at ga developnt, Takuya Nakayama wasn't as relaxed as expected. Leaning back, he twirled a pen, his gaze fixed on a *My Neighbor Totoro* poster in the office corner. A few scribbled notes lay on his desk: "Farm managent and cozy daily life." He replayed his promise to Hayao Miyazaki—a vow made in Ghibli's eting room, a brilliant idea that broke Miyazaki's defenses.
The concept sounded romantic, but turning it into an engaging, imrsive ga without a hint of comrcial cynicism was far tougher than outmaneuvering rivals. How could "heartwarming stories" blend seamlessly into gaplay? It needed to be healing yet avoid dull, repetitive "tasks." Above all, it had to pass Miyazaki's soul-piercing, near-uncompromising scrutiny. This wasn't about capital or hardware—it tested artistic and emotional depth, a purer, harsher challenge. For the first ti, Takuya felt his "unbeatable" reputation facing a unique trial.
Heavy with thought, he returned to the Nakayama family estate. Dinner was lively—his father, Hayao Nakayama, in high spirits, sipped sake and chatted lightly with his mother, Miyuki Nakayama. Takuya, distracted, barely engaged.
"Takuya, not hungry?" Miyuki's gentle voice carried subtle worry. Hayao's sharp eyes caught his son's ntal fatigue, not physical. "The third-party war is done, isn't it?" he asked steadily.
Takuya set down his chopsticks, forcing a smile. "It's not that. I'm struggling with *Totoro*'s ga adaptation. I promised Miyazaki a combat-free, heartwarming ga, but turning that 'feeling' into gaplay is harder than I thought."
Miyuki's eyes softened with concern. "Don't push yourself so hard. You've done enough." Hayao sipped sake, then offered a surprising suggestion with authority: "Take a break. The third-party cleanup doesn't need your hands-on. Let裕Suzuki handle ga reviews and Yoshikawa manage third-party contacts. Go to our old Ibaraki house for a few days. Relax—it's my order as president to my star executive."
The words, both fatherly care and pragmatic support, ward Takuya. He accepted. The next day, after a quick handover, he drove out of Tokyo. Skyscrapers faded into soft green fields and rustic hos, his burdens easing with each mile.
At the Ibaraki house, his gray-haired grandmother greeted him with a warm smile. Shedding his "Sega executive" suit for casual clothes, he felt unburdened, reverting to a carefree "Takuya"—the real-world version of the ga world he'd pitched to Miyazaki.
Evening brought a cool breeze, dispelling sumr's heat. Sitting on the wooden porch, Takuya munched his grandmother's fresh asparagus salad, its crisp scent evoking childhood. Frogs croaked in distant rice fields, and a rustle ca from nearby bushes. He glanced over instinctively.
"Don't worry," his grandmother chuckled. "Probably a fox from the hills foraging." She shared local lore: "Farrs here see foxes as Inari's ssengers, treasures. They'd leave tofu by Jizo statues—not for reward, just goodwill, hoping the fox spirit brings a good harvest. Those fox statues at the village shrine? Built bit by bit for abundant crops."
Words like "fox," "ssenger," "tofu," and "selfless goodwill" sparked a faint epiphany in Takuya. He recalled ani and manga from his past life, filled with gentle, natural interactions. If he couldn't recall gas, he could draw from those! Weeks of frustration dissolved, replaced by a surge of creativity. He imagined Miyazaki's stunned reaction to the idea.
"What's got you so excited?" his grandmother asked, puzzled by his bright eyes and grin. Warmth flooded Takuya as he looked at her caring face. Setting down the asparagus, he bead. "Nothing, Grandma. Just thinking your fox spirits are adorable."
Please Support by becoming my patreon mber and get 30 chapters.
[email protected]/Ajal69
change @ with a
Thank You to Those who joined my Patreon
User Comments
0 comments from readers