Sega Headquarters.
Today's executive meeting was so unusual that even Nakayama Hayao—chairman in name—was not seated at the head of the table.
The man sitting in the main seat was sixty years old, balding, thin, wearing square-framed glasses and a mask.
Isao Okawa.
President of CSK, Sega's parent company, and the man who had personally orchestrated Sega's integration and acquisition.
In later years, when Sega fell into a severe debt crisis after losing the console wars, Okawa would, before his death, donate his entire personal fortune—some 85 billion yen—to Sega, helping it survive and preserve the Sega name rather than becoming something like "Bandai·Sega" or "Sony·Sega."
—Earlier accounts often mixed this man up with Nakayama Hayao. But the one who truly made that reckless, self-sacrificing decision was Isao Okawa, president of Sega's parent company.
Today, with Okawa sitting here, even Nakayama Hayao could only sit alongside him.
The conference room curtains were drawn thick, yet the lights inside were bright—standard practice to prevent anyone from spying from outside. In business competition, this was nothing unusual.
Behind Okawa, an assistant pulled several newspapers from a briefcase. Okawa pushed them forward onto the table.
The elderly man, who bore an uncanny resemblance to Ni Dahong, kept his face completely expressionless.
"I don't care which of you becomes Sega's president," Okawa said calmly. "I believe—and acknowledge—that anyone sitting here has the ability to lead Sega toward prosperity. After all, everyone present is sharp and capable."
"But!"
"You cannot hurt the people who are actually doing the work."
He raised his hand and made a squeezing motion.
"Take your little schemes and shove them under the table. Hide them. You all know how deep the water is—just don't drag the waves of Tokyo Bay onto the shore."
After speaking for a few moments, Okawa paused to catch his breath.
Like many Japanese people of his generation, he suffered from tuberculosis—and a severe case at that. It had never fully healed.
Nakayama Hayao leaned over from the side and whispered a few words to him.
Okawa shot him a glance.
"So what?" Okawa said coolly. "Does having connections from one's parents mean those connections must carry on forever? If you have connections, use them. Don't be ashamed to talk about relationships and money. Connections only give you a higher starting point—how far you go after that depends on your own ability."
After resting again for a moment, Okawa swept his gaze across the room.
This was an internal Sega board meeting. There were no mid-level managers present—only division heads at the level of Hideki Sato or Hisashi Suzuki, seated off to the side.
"What about that young man—Kobayashi Kentaro?" Okawa tapped the table lightly with his finger. "Have him come see me."
—
Atlas Studio.
Kobayashi Tetsu was still riding the high, sitting cross-legged alone in front of the TV, controller in hand.
"What is this blue bike doing? Blue bike, hurry up! Faster! Come on, Blue!"
On the screen, the motorcycle's front wheel touched down lightly, almost as if it were flying.
This was a characteristic of motocross bikes—by exploiting this when jumping obstacles, the bike could move through the air faster than normal. It was no different from using a dash move, a common speedrunning technique.
Yuji Naka and another colleague peeked over from behind the computers, wanting to say something but stopping themselves.
They could both tell this level of excitement was abnormal.
But it was useless—nothing they said could stop Kobayashi Tetsu.
Just then, the garage door was suddenly pulled open from outside.
Everyone turned their heads at once, staring in surprise at the man standing in the doorway.
Yuji Naka stood up to confirm. "Sir, you can't just walk into someone else's company like this."
"This is my place," the man replied succinctly. "I'm Kobayashi Kentaro."
Yuji Naka blinked. "Who?"
Kentaro repeated himself. "Kobayashi Tetsu's father."
Yuji Naka instantly changed his tone. "Ah—Uncle! You're back! Please come in! The president is over there!"
As Kentaro strode inside, Yuji Naka couldn't help feeling a little uneasy.
Kobayashi Tetsu didn't pause the game. He kept playing, the motorcycle flying endlessly across the screen—at its peak, it even soared so high it disappeared from view.
Kentaro walked over and sat cross-legged beside him, quietly watching him play until Kobayashi Tetsu finally cleared the game, set the controller down, and relaxed.
"Tetsu," Kentaro asked, "do you have time this evening?"
Kobayashi Tetsu looked up at him.
"President Okawa has invited you to meet tonight," Kentaro said. "This President Okawa is Isao Okawa, president of CSK, Sega's parent company. The acquisition of Sega from the Americans was led by him."
Kobayashi Tetsu met his gaze. "Where does he want to meet?"
"At his home," Kentaro replied. "President Okawa is from Osaka, but he has a residence here in Tokyo. We'll meet there."
"We?" Kobayashi Tetsu asked.
"You," Kentaro said, pointing at Kobayashi Tetsu's chest. "To be precise, just you. I'll only take you to the door."
Kobayashi Tetsu tugged at the corner of his mouth, revealing a complicated smile.
But this one came from the heart.
The meeting place wasn't a pretentious Western restaurant or an izakaya—it was his home.
In an instant, Kobayashi Tetsu understood the feeling that Satoru Iwata and Yuji Naka had once described.
Only this time, he was the one experiencing it.
Okawa's Tokyo residence was in Katsushika Ward—not a standalone mansion, but a modern two-story house built largely of glass and concrete.
It was genuinely small. At first glance, Kobayashi Tetsu had thought it was just an ordinary house.
No swimming pool. No garden. None of the excess trappings.
Rather than a villa, it felt more like a self-built two-story countryside home.
Kentaro stayed behind to watch the car and urged him on. "Go on—it's inside."
Kobayashi Tetsu nodded, carrying the gift as he walked toward the house.
The gift had been chosen by Kentaro. According to him, for meetings like this, the safest option was a bottle of sake—not too expensive, modest and appropriate, impossible to go wrong.
To Kobayashi Tetsu's surprise, there were no servants inside. Only an elderly woman came to hand him slippers. She took the gift from him and stood quietly to the side.
She was there to guide him.
Kobayashi Tetsu returned her bow and followed her inside.
Not to a reception room—but to the dining room.
The man seated there was balding, thin, wearing a mask.
Even so, Kobayashi Tetsu was certain—this had to be Isao Okawa, president of CSK, Sega's parent company.
Strangely, Kobayashi Tetsu could sense a calm, tranquil aura emanating from the old man.
"Please, have a seat," Okawa said.
As he spoke, he casually opened the gift box. When he saw what was inside, he couldn't help but chuckle.
"Let me guess—this was your father's idea, wasn't it?"
Kobayashi Tetsu paused.
He hadn't expected Okawa's very first sentence to be this.
He wasn't sure if there was some deeper meaning behind the question, but he decided to treat it as ordinary conversation.
"Yes," Kobayashi Tetsu replied. "It was my father's idea."
"I'll accept it," Okawa said with a nod. "But at your age, you're not old enough to drink yet, are you? Then don't open it."
Okawa studied Kobayashi Tetsu's face, his tone tinged with admiration.
"I really want to know what you learned overseas. When I was your age, I was still just a kid running around the streets."
He made a gesture of rolling up pant legs.
"So I wouldn't get my clothes dirty, I had to roll them up."
Okawa didn't talk about Sega.
He didn't talk about work at all.
He just chatted casually—about himself, about others, about life.
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