By October, the story moved forward.
The serialized novel "The Storm Dominates the World" had been running for half a year and was finally being published as a book. Although Lin Baicheng had already sold the publishing rights in one go, his contract required him to cooperate with publicity for three days during the launch. So, for those three days, he got to enjoy the spotlight of being a best-selling author.
But the price of that fame was high—his hand nearly broke from signing so many autographs for readers. He wanted to cry, especially since he didn't get a single cent from the book sales themselves.
Still, Lin Baicheng didn't feel jealous. The money he had earned from selling the novel's rights and his business ventures far exceeded what he could have made from royalties. At this point, he was already a multimillionaire worth over a hundred million Hong Kong dollars.
Meanwhile, Star River Games had not yet completed delivery of all ten thousand arcade motherboards ordered by Taitō Corporation, but in Japan, not only had Taitō sold all the assembled arcade cabinets—they had also received many new preorders. Combined, these exceeded ten thousand units.
So, Akio Nakanishi immediately placed another order with Star River Games for an additional ten thousand machines.
However, this time, Lin Baicheng informed him ahead of time about Phil Smith's order from America, which had to be prioritized for delivery. Therefore, Taitō's new order would have to wait.
After learning that Phil Smith had made full payment upfront to secure priority delivery, Nakanishi discussed it with his company's executives and decided to pay the entire USD 12 million for their order in one go. He asked Lin to maintain a delivery pace of four to five hundred units per day.
Lin didn't refuse. As long as it didn't affect the American delivery schedule, he was fine with it. The downside was that this drastically reduced the number of machines available for sales in Hong Kong's Wan Island and the Southeast Asian markets. But those orders were small and scattered compared to his two major clients.
Even so, Lin didn't abandon those smaller regions entirely. He arranged to produce about twenty arcade machines per day to fulfill the remaining small orders. After clearing the backlog, he planned to continue accepting new small-scale orders at that same production rate.
After all, a market was a market—it would be a waste to give it up.
At the current pace, the factory could produce over ten thousand units per month, which was sufficient for now. Future orders could simply be shipped gradually.
But Lin was already thinking ahead—to the European market, the untapped North American market, and most importantly, the new game Pac-Man.
If Pac-Man became a hit like it had in his previous life, orders would pour in like snowflakes, and the factory's existing capacity would never keep up. That would mean losing opportunities to make even more money.
So, Lin instructed Liu Yihui to purchase more land from the Hong Kong government near the existing factory for expansion.
He couldn't be 100% sure Pac-Man would explode in popularity—but land could be bought and built on ahead of time. With land prices still low, especially for industrial use, it would be a worthwhile investment.
There was plenty of unused land in Kwun Tong, but it wasn't just a matter of buying as much as he wanted. After reviewing Star River Games' business performance and recognizing the claim of "insufficient production capacity," the Hong Kong government approved a grant of three acres of land.
One acre is about 4,000 square meters, so three acres meant more than 12,000 square meters—quite a large area.
The original and new factories together only covered around 6,000 square meters, so this expansion would double that footprint. If fully developed into factory space, production capacity could triple—enough to handle any number of future orders.
Although the government didn't offer discounts this time, the land cost just over HK $10 million—quite affordable.
Lin had wanted to buy more, thinking it would save trouble later if he needed further expansion, especially since he had money to spare. But the government only approved three acres—no more. He had no choice but to accept it.
A little over a week later, Pac-Man was finally completed thanks to the efforts of Lin, Miyamoto Etsu, and the development team. Post-production was also finished.
After the computer version was finalized, Lin ordered three arcade units to be built for playtesting. Everyone was to try them and test for bugs—better to find problems now than during the Los Angeles trade exhibition, when it would be too late.
Within two days, all testing was complete. After fixing a few minor issues, the final version was approved—flawless.
Since there was still time before the exhibition, Lin had not only his in-house team of game enthusiasts like Miyamoto test the game, but also invited a dozen players from local arcades to try it. Their feedback was overwhelmingly positive, boosting everyone's confidence.
Armed with memories from his previous life, Lin was already confident in Pac-Man. He couldn't guarantee it would be a 100% success, but given how well Hong Kong Blocks had performed, he estimated a 90% chance of success.
Feeling optimistic, Lin instructed Liu Yihui to stock materials for 10,000 Pac-Man arcade units—so that once orders rolled in, production could begin immediately. For now, the factory's capacity was tied up fulfilling Taitō and Phil Smith's orders, so there was no rush.
For Pac-Man's arcade cabinets, Lin chose top-quality components. Cheaper parts couldn't handle the game's performance, and this title included color display—a major innovation.
Up to that point, arcade games were all monochrome—black and white—like Hong Kong Blocks.
But Pac-Man would lose much of its charm without color. So Lin decided to use color film overlays on the monitors to simulate color graphics. This method limited the number of colors (under ten), but it was enough for now.
Others had thought of adding color before, but the technology hadn't been mature. Now it was possible—just costly.
For example, a Pac-Man cabinet with first-rate components cost about HK $3,000 for the monochrome version (HK $500 more than Hong Kong Blocks). Adding color increased the cost to HK $3,400 per unit—an extra HK $400 even at bulk pricing. Without bulk discounts, it would've been at least HK $500 more per unit.
That meant Pac-Man's production cost was about HK $900 higher per unit than Hong Kong Blocks.
But as the saying goes, "the wool comes from the sheep." Lin fully intended to raise the retail price accordingly.
Exactly how much the price would rise, however, depended on how popular Pac-Man turned out to be at the Los Angeles trade show.