The sweetness of the honeymoon had yet to fully fade when Nakayama Takuya plunged straight back into Sega headquarters.
"Executive Director, welcome back."
His assistant placed a steaming cup of coffee on his desk, beside a half-foot stack of documents.
"Tendo's files," Takuya said without even lifting his head, reaching out a hand.
"Yes." The assistant immediately pulled out the top folder and handed it over. "This is the compiled summary of Nintendo's pre-launch promotional plan for the SFC."
Takuya opened it, skimming through at speed.
Nintendo's strategy was steady as always—perhaps too steady. Their sweeping advertisements were focused only on Japan, and the launch lineup was almost austere: just Super Mario World and F-ZERO.
"Industry analysts say that Mario alone is enough to secure the SFC's victory," the assistant added softly, unable to hide a tone of reverence. "After all—that's Mario."
"Mario…" Takuya repeated, tapping the edge of the report.
Of course he knew exactly how terrifying Super Mario World was. In his previous life, it had sold over twenty million copies, practically building half of the SFC dynasty by itself.
But precisely because of that, he knew something even clearer.
Nintendo was not unassailable.
"What about North America?" Takuya suddenly asked.
"Huh?" The assistant blinked, quickly flipping through the later pages. "It says here that Nintendo's U.S. branch hasn't begun any large-scale promotions yet. It seems they're waiting for the Japan launch to stabilize before pushing overseas."
Takuya smiled.
He closed the report and tossed it onto the desk.
"Yamauchi Hiroshi is still just that—an old fox whose vision never leaves Japan."
The assistant looked puzzled.
"He sees Mario's overwhelming power in Japan," Takuya said, leaning back, fingers interlaced, "but he doesn't see that after the economic bubble burst, Japanese consumers' wallets have tightened. The world's largest game market isn't Japan anymore—it's North America."
"He wants to secure Japan first before aiming for the U.S. But what he doesn't know is that we have no intention of letting him launch smoothly in North America."
The assistant's eyes brightened. "Executive Director, you mean—"
"Do we have any titles that can directly compete with Mario right now?" Takuya asked.
"Not… yet." The assistant's voice grew weak.
"Exactly." Takuya drummed the desk with crisp taps. "If we can't win in Japan, then we don't fight there. When SFC prepares to enter North America, we divert all our major titles and all promotional resources—and dump them all into North America."
"Before the SFC reaches the U.S. market, we flood North America with our biggest games. We steal the players' attention, their excitement—and their dollars—before Mario even gets off the boat."
"This…" The assistant hesitated. "Isn't that risky? And several of our major titles still need time before completion."
"No rush. There's plenty of time. Yamauchi won't push the SFC to North America that quickly." Takuya waved dismissively.
He picked up the Nintendo report again, weighing it like a pile of scrap paper.
"This won't topple Nintendo fundamentally, but it will definitely disgust them for a good while. And that's enough."
He thought of his father, Nakayama Shigeo—of that stern face and the words he loved to repeat:
"I live to make Nintendo uncomfortable."
While the assistant was still digesting the plan, Takuya picked up the phone.
"Connect me with our U.S. headquarters in Redwood City. Tom Kalinske's office."
The line rang with several low beeps. Outside the window, Tokyo was bathed in morning light. Across the ocean, California would be enjoying early afternoon sun.
The call connected.
"Tom, it's me—Takuya."
"Oh, Takuya! My friend, it must be early morning in Japan. What's got you calling at this hour? Miss me already?" A deep, hearty laugh echoed from the receiver.
"No. I'm at the office. Just bringing you some news." Takuya adjusted in his chair, finding a comfortable posture.
"Oh? Let's hear it," Tom Kalinske replied, curiosity obvious.
"You know about Nintendo's SFC, right?"
"Of course. Those guys and their SFC—it's in every industry magazine lately. What's this, planning a decisive battle in Japan?"
"No." Takuya chuckled softly. "I've already chosen the battlefield. Not Japan—your turf. North America."
Silence. Then Tom's lowered voice:
"…Go on."
"Yamauchi, that conservative old man, wants to suck Japan dry first before slowly pushing SFC to the U.S. From my calculations, there's at least a six-month gap."
"You're saying…" Tom's voice trembled with excitement.
"My meaning is simple." Takuya sat upright, voice steady and commanding. "I want you to mobilize all Sega of America's resources. Every finished title, every upcoming title, every cent of promotional budget—concentrate it."
"Before the SFC comes ashore in North America, we hold a festival that belongs only to Sega."
"Before Mario reaches the continent, we blow up the market ourselves. We take every player's attention, every bit of hype, and every last dollar—before Nintendo can touch them."
Silence again—longer this time.
Then Tom roared:
"Takuya, this plan is EXACTLY my style! Now THAT'S how you start a war! Genesis will wipe the floor with those plumbers! Leave North America to me!"
"Keep an eye on Nintendo's U.S. division," Takuya added. "If they show even one sign of movement, blanket every electronics store in America with our ads."
"If we need more budget, I'll get approval from the board."
"Money isn't the issue!" Tom barked a laugh. "Making Nintendo suffer is worth every dollar! Besides, Genesis and GamePocket sales are already phenomenal this year. Your idea of embedding our machines into daily American youth culture—brilliant. Just wait for my good news, my friend!"
"Alright. I won't keep you. I'm heading back to game development oversight." Takuya hung up.
The real war had begun.
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