Ajal.
patreon
Chapter 152: *Metal Gear* Reborn from the Ashes
🕑 Added 2025-10-20 09:31:51 +0000 UTCLeaving the *Phantasy Star* team, Takuya Nakayama headed straight to another section of Sega’s headquarters, where Hideo Kojima’s *Metal Gear* development team was based.
Takuya recalled last year’s Konami release. After Kojima left, Konami salvaged his abandoned project, but the result was unrecognizable. The stealth game once called *Metal Gear* was gutted into a generic action shooter, its story reduced to a shallow revenge tale, retitled *Metal Armed* for a rushed FC launch.
Sales were mediocre—decent but lackluster for Konami’s FC track record. Yet this middling performance was perfect cover. It drew little market attention, cooling Konami’s interest while legally freeing Kojima to reclaim his vision. With Takuya’s full backing, Kojima swiftly formed his own team.
He overhauled the once-criticized design, enriching the game beyond mere stealth. Stealth remained core, but players could now use close-quarters combat, switch weapons dynamically, and exploit environmental props for distractions. This *Metal Gear* was fuller, more aggressive than its original MSX2 concept, tailored to the MD controller’s strengths. Most crucially, the MD’s power elevated cutscene storytelling to new heights.
Pushing open the *Metal Gear* team’s door, Takuya felt a stark contrast to *Phantasy Star*’s gloom. No chaos, just intense focus. Under bright lights, monitors glowed, illuminating faces locked in concentration. His eyes found Kojima in a corner, engrossed, wearing oversized headphones that sealed him off from the world. He leaned forward, fingers dancing precisely on the controller.
On-screen, a fierce boss battle unfolded. A massive bipedal weapon, codenamed TX-55, spewed Vulcan cannon fire, pinning protagonist Snake behind concrete cover. Snake seized a moment when the cannon paused, darting out—not to shoot, but to plant a C4 charge, then rolling to new cover. As the TX-55’s turret swiveled to lock on, Snake casually tossed an object—a decoy—toward open ground.
*Clatter.* The weapon’s sensors locked onto the sound, clumsily turning. *Now!* Kojima’s Snake detonated the C4. The blast flipped a nearby oil drum, triggering a chain explosion that staggered the machine. Snake capitalized, switching to a rocket launcher and nailing the cockpit’s weak top armor with a precise shot. Battle over.
Takuya watched silently, thinking one word: *Genius.*
Kojima exhaled, removing his headphones, but showed no excitement. Frowning, he grabbed a notebook, ready to jot notes, then noticed Takuya as he swiveled. “Executive Nakayama.”
“Keep going. Spot a problem?” Takuya waved off formality, smiling, pulling up a chair.
“Something’s off,” Kojima said, eyes on his notes. “The delay between C4 blast and the stagger—about 0.2 seconds—feels fake. And the decoy’s attraction range needs tweaking; a slight misthrow could brick the fight.”
“Looked smooth to me,” Takuya said.
“That’s developer bias—I know the moves,” Kojima replied, his eyes burning with resolve. “Players don’t. They should discover solutions, not rely on luck. This game can’t have a hint of shoddiness—not like Konami’s trigger-happy knockoff.” His disdain for *Metal Armed* was raw.
Takuya grinned, patting his shoulder. “Fix it till you’re satisfied. No rush—we’re in a good spot.”
Kojima blinked, then smiled—a rare ease, like finding a kindred spirit. “Oh, I’ve got a new idea: a radio system. Different frequencies connect to support characters for tactical tips or even world-building banter.”
Takuya’s brow twitched—script-heavy. “Will players sit through chatter?”
“They will,” Kojima’s eyes lit up, “if the story’s good enough. They’ll love every character, even pause for half-hour talks.”
Seeing that passion, Takuya knew he’d need to loosen the timeline again. He nodded. “Do it. I’ll handle the rest.”
“Project status?” Takuya glanced at the screen, now dark post-boss fight.
Kojima’s eyes gleamed, a far cry from his stifled Konami days. He gestured at the screen like it was his prized creation. “Very smooth, Executive.” He handed over a progress report. “The final boss fight’s tweaks—those I just mentioned—are nearly done. All core mechanics are implemented and polished.”
He paused, brimming with confidence. “MD’s power let me realize ideas MSX2 couldn’t handle. This *Metal Gear* is beyond my original vision. With the radio system’s script polish, we’re close to full testing and bug fixes. Technical issues are minor. We’re on track for late April release.”
Takuya nodded, his trust absolute. He skimmed the report and test build—graphics, controls, and depth were undeniably top-tier for console games. Kojima had exceeded expectations.
“Good,” Takuya said simply, his face satisfied. “I have 100% faith in you and your team.” He stood, offering no more. For a genius like Kojima, meddling was a shackle; this trust was the ultimate reward.
He patted Kojima’s shoulder and headed for the door. Kojima watched him go, a surge of warmth in his chest. “Executive—” he hesitated. Takuya turned back. “Thank you.” Kojima bowed deeply, not just for the job, but for his rescued dream.
Takuya smiled, waved, and left.
