"You're right. While Mr. Sato struggles with the new graphics optimization, he's a master at coordinating art resources. He's thick-skinned, persistent, and even the hot-tempered artists in the art departnt are afraid of him. He's also been involved in many of our ga's animation projects and is excellent at external communication and liaison. As long as the new position offers stable pay and benefits, he'll likely be very willing to transfer—especially since it will give him more ti to care for his elderly parents."
Takuya Nakayama closed the folder and placed it on the desk with a satisfied expression.
This list wasn't just a personnel transfer table; it was the lubricant that would ensure Sega's efficient operation in the future.
These twelve individuals would serve as twelve "supervisors." By placing them in each Developnt Team, they could pull those genius producers out of the mire of administrative tasks.
Moreover, Oguchi Hisao had carefully selected people who were struggling with their family circumstances and urgently needed this position to bring new hope to their lives.
"Sharp judgnt and ticulous investigation," Takuya Nakayama offered a sincere assessnt. "You've handled this beautifully—with a lot of human touch."
Oguchi Hisao showed no outward sign of pleasure at the praise, rely bowing slightly. "Regarding the salary negotiations—"
"Don't worry about that," Takuya Nakayama said, waving his hand to interrupt. "I've already spoken to Tamura. Your current task isn't to rush back to my office. If Tetsuya Mizuguchi finds out I've poached you, he'll be at my office in tears. Just make sure to hand over your current racing projects properly and clean up your files. Don't leave a ss behind. I'm not in a hurry—ten days or half a month won't make a difference."
Oguchi Hisao visibly relaxed.
He had been most afraid of being caught between two stools. With the Managing Director's approval, he could now finish his last few days with a clear conscience.
"Understood! I'll head back now."
After seeing Oguchi Hisao out, Takuya Nakayama picked up the phone and called Director Tamura of the Human Resources Departnt.
When Tamura entered, Takuya Nakayama handed him a list.
"Use this list to make your offers," Takuya Nakayama said concisely. "Avoid those condescending 'forced resignation' talks. Tell them this isn't retirent—it's a promotion. The new position is 'Technical Coordination Manager,' with a 5% salary increase. They'll no longer be coding but will focus on overseeing processes and progress. If they perform well, their year-end bonuses will be comparable to those of our top front-line developers."
Tamura's eyelids twitched as he scanned the list.
Several of these individuals were notorious "old hands," the kind who usually gave him a headache. Yet, to the Managing Director, they were suddenly prized assets.
"Sir, these people... they're usually quite proud. Do you really think they'll be willing to put down their keyboards and manage trivial tasks?"
"Can pride pay the bills?" Takuya Nakayama scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "They're over thirty. Who doesn't have a wife and kids to support? On one side, there's the anxiety of constantly learning new algorithms and competing with younger programrs. On the other, there's the dignity of using their experience to manage people, leaving work on ti, and getting a raise. Any rational person would choose the latter."
He picked up a pen and signed the docunt, its tip scratching against the paper.
"Rember to flatter them during the conversations. Tell them the company needs their experience to guide the younger generation—don't ntion their technical shortcomings. Give them enough face and enough substance, and these old soldiers will work harder than anyone."
Director Tamura nodded repeatedly, secretly admiring the Managing Director's strategy.
This "cup of wine to dismiss the troops" strategy was executed flawlessly. It resolved the issue of relocating the veteran employees, found a manager for the project, and won over the workforce.
"Go ahead and handle it. Let the Developnt Team Leaders pick their own fresh graduates to fill the vacant positions."
Tamura acknowledged with a nod and retreated with the folder.
The eting with Human Resources went even smoother than expected.
For these twelve veteran employees, who had been struggling in their current roles for years, the "Technical Coordination Manager" offer from Director Tamura was nothing short of a ticket to escape.
When Watanabe walked into the HR office, the dark circles under his eyes hadn't faded, and he was still clutching a half-empty energy drink.
He had expected a termination notice, already calculating whether the severance pay would be enough to buy milk powder for his second child.
Instead, Tamura's first words were, "Congratulations, the Managing Director specifically requested you for a promotion."
No more all-nighters struggling with incomprehensible 3D algorithms. No more fear of being looked down upon by fresh graduates for his slow typing speed. And a 5% salary increase.
The work content was exactly what he excelled at.
Watanabe's hands trembled as he clutched the transfer letter, repeatedly checking it three tis to ensure there were no hidden clauses about "voluntary resignation."
As for Sato, who was still burdened by a thirty-year mortgage, his reaction was even more visceral.
When Director Tamura inford him that his new primary responsibility would be to oversee the art progress across all projects and manage detailed communication, and that his year-end bonus would match that of the front-line Developnt Team if projects were delivered on ti, the man who usually only stayed late to mooch off the company's overti als imdiately pounded his chest with a thunderous clap. He swore he would sleep on the doorstep of anyone who dared to delay the schedule.
Within just three days, all twelve transfer agreents had been signed.
At 3 PM, these twelve "veterans"—who had been marginalized to the fringes of their departnt—marched in a formidable procession to the Executive Office, led by Oguchi Hisao.
Takuya Nakayama, who had just finished signing a docunt, looked up and saw the room filled with burly n.
The atmosphere was heavy, yet charged with emotion.
Watanabe stood at the forefront, his eyes reddened. This forr hero of the MD audio chip era looked at Takuya Nakayama, his lips quivering. Suddenly, his knees buckled, and he began to fall to his knees.
This was the ultimate act of deference in Japanese corporate culture—the dogeza, or prostration.
For this middle-aged man, crushed by family responsibilities, this decent job was more than just a livelihood; it was the backbone that allowed him to stand tall before his wife and children.
"Stop!"
Takuya Nakayama reacted swiftly, grabbing Watanabe's arm.
The young Managing Director's grip was surprisingly strong, effortlessly restraining the 140-pound man.
"This is Sega, not a Taiga Drama set," Takuya said, his voice laced with amusent. "If you kneel down, the gossip magazines will be writing tomorrow about physically punishing employees. I'm not taking that bla."
The tension in the room instantly dissipated, followed by a few suppressed chuckles.
Sato, standing behind them, bowed deeply and announced in a clear voice, "Managing Director, Mr. Koguchi has already told us everything. You personally requested these positions from the Human Resources Director, and you personally approved this list. We—we thought we'd just coast to retirent. We never imagined we'd ever be given such an opportunity."
Please Support by becoming my patreon mber and get 30 chapters.
[email protected]/Ajal69
change @ with a
Thank You to Those who joined my Patreonv
User Comments
0 comments from readers