"There's also the matter of profit distribution," Howard Lincoln, seated beside Minoru Arakawa, added in a tone as casual as if discussing the weather. "Nintendo will take the lion's share of all royalties and publishing profits from Super Famicom cartridge gas. As for the pitiful earnings from your CD-ROM drive, Sony can keep those."
This was essentially treating Sony as Nintendo's contract manufacturer and free hardware developnt departnt.
The Sony representatives wanted to slam their fists on the table, fling the stack of docunts in Minoru Arakawa's face, and roar, "Go to hell!"
But they couldn't.
Oga Norio's bottom line was clear: preserve the spark.
As long as the "PlayStation" na remained and the console could be released, they would swallow their pride, even if it ant crawling on their knees.
The pen scratched across the paper with a teeth-gritting screech.
Minoru Arakawa watched the other man sign the docunt, then finally picked up his long-cold coffee and took a sip.
Bitter, yet with a lingering sweetness.
That evening, a transatlantic call reached Nintendo Headquarters in Kyoto.
"President, it's done."
Arakawa stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at Chicago's dazzling night skyline, his voice radiating absolute confidence.
"Sony kept the na, but lost its soul. They're now just selling cartridges for us. That machine will beco the best accessory for the Super Famicom, and we won't have to spend a single cent on hardware developnt."
On the other end, Yamauchi Hiroshi remained silent for a long mont.
The tyrant who had ruled Nintendo for half a century seed to be weighing the pros and cons.
Letting a wolf guard the sheep, even with its teeth removed and a chain around its neck, still left it a wolf at heart.
"Hiroshi," Yamauchi Hiroshi's aged but authoritative voice ca through, "don't underestimate the power of resentnt. But since the contract's signed, let them squirm. As long as we control the cartridges, they won't be able to cause any real trouble."
After hanging up, Minoru Arakawa loosened his tie.
In his view, this crisis had been perfectly resolved.
After pouring vast resources into research and developnt, Sony had ultimately created a grotesque "Frankenstein" of a machine: a monstrosity that ran on Nintendo ga cartridges yet flowed with Sony's blood.
Tokyo, Shinagawa Ward, Sony Headquarters.
The air was thick with the scent of tobacco.
At the center of the table sat the prototype machine displayed at CES—a "monster" emblazoned with the Sony logo on its base, yet bearing a Super Nintendo cartridge slot on top.
"Get rid of it," Oga Norio said, his brow furrowing in disgust as he forcefully tapped his cigar against the ashtray. "Looking at this thing makes think of Minoru Arakawa's smug face."
Without a word, Ken Kutaragi unplugged the prototype and tossed it onto the sofa in the corner like a piece of trash.
"That slot is our sha," Kutaragi said, turning around, his voice hoarse from days of sleep deprivation. "As long as we keep that cartridge interface, we'll be shackled to Nintendo's old system. They control the production rights for cartridges, the licensing fees, and even the ga approval process."
He strode to the whiteboard and forcefully drew a massive X.
"If we continue with this plan, no matter how well the machine sells, Sony will remain nothing more than Nintendo's high-end contract manufacturer. For every unit sold, we'll earn the hard-earned profit from hardware sales, while Nintendo sits back and reaps the obscene profits from software."
"We're handing ammunition to the enemy," Nobuyuki Idei added coldly from the side.
Oga Norio exhaled a cloud of smoke, his gaze sharp. "What's the Legal Departnt's stance on that na?"
Since we've already broken ties, we might as well go all out.
Nintendo had filed a lawsuit in Chicago, claiming Sony was infringing on the "PlayStation" trademark—a ruthless move aid at crippling the project at its core.
A nervous manager from the Legal Departnt stood up, clutching a thick file.
"President, we've checked with the trademark offices in both the United States and Japan.
Nintendo does indeed have prior use rights to the phrase 'Play Station'—note the space in between—based on the previous collaboration agreent."
"So we have to change the na too?" soone grumbled in displeasure.
"No." The legal manager adjusted his glasses, a glint of cunning in his eyes. "Trademark law is very strict. 'Play' and 'Station' are both common words. If we remove the space..."
"Play Station" is a combination of two common words, aning "the workstation for playing gas." But what if we remove the space between them?"
He picked up a marker and wrote the two words on the whiteboard, then forcefully connected them.
PlayStation.
"It's a neologism," the Legal Departnt manager said, his voice rising slightly. "You won't find this word in any dictionary. It's a brand-new proper noun, a brand that belongs solely to Sony. Nintendo's agreent governs 'Play Station,' but it has no jurisdiction over 'PlayStation.'"
The conference room fell silent for two seconds, followed by a few stifled chuckles.
This was practically a word ga, but on the battlefield of comrcial law, such shaless word gas often proved most effective.
"Good." Oga Norio finally smiled for the first ti since returning from abroad, though the smile carried a hint of ferocity. "Remove the space. Tell the world that the old 'PlayStation' that worked for Nintendo is dead. What remains now is Sony's PlayStation."
With the na issue resolved, the remaining problem was the most fundantal: the hardware.
Ken Kutaragi returned to the table, his hands braced against its surface, his bloodshot eyes burning with fervent intensity.
"Now that the na has changed, this machine's soul must be reborn."
"President Oga, I intend to completely remove the Super Famicom cartridge slot."
As soon as he spoke, several conservative executives in the eting room gasped.
"Kutaragi! Are you insane?" A director couldn't help but stand up. "Without compatibility with Nintendo cartridges, what will we use for our launch gas? Mario, Zelda—all our resources will beco worthless!"
"Those are relics of the past!" Kutaragi retorted bluntly. "Cartridge capacities of just a few gabytes belong to the past! What we need to focus on is the future, what only CD-ROMs can handle! Look at the ga quality Sega demonstrated with Chrono Trigger on the Sega CD! Players said that was the ga of the next generation, and that was just an upgrade to the ga Drive!"
He pulled a stack of new design blueprints from his briefcase and slamd them onto the table.
"Moreover, since we're breaking compatibility, we no longer need to cater to Nintendo's pathetic 16-bit architecture. I'm going to upgrade our console to 32-bit. I want this machine's performance to leapfrog Nintendo and Sega's current toys by an entire generation!"
"If we're still shackled to Nintendo's old baggage, we'll never be able to run fast enough."
The smoke in the eting room seed to grow thicker.
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