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Chapter 38 - “Marketing Bubble”?
🕑 Added 2025-09-15 11:37:28 +0000 UTCTakuya found Group Leader Shimizu and Yuji Suzuki. “Help me hook up the test machine for video recording.”
Shimizu, wiring the setup, asked puzzledly, “What’s this for? The animation PV is out, and the game PV clips were sent to Tatsunoko.”
Takuya grinned slyly. “Remember the joystick and button display I added? I’m recording that.”
Suzuki’s eyes lit up. “You’re putting move lists in videos?”
Takuya snapped his fingers. “Bingo! I want a character move list at the end of each anime episode.”
Shimizu, still confused, asked, “We have eight characters, with Geese as the hidden ninth. What about later episodes?”
Takuya shrugged. “Simple. Episode 9 reveals Geese’s unlock: clear the arcade with all eight characters once, then press A, B, C, D simultaneously at the character select screen.” He clearly wasn’t complicating the selection process.
“Then, episodes 10 and 11 show Terry and Andy’s combo demos.”
“For the final two episodes…” Takuya paused, eyeing Shimizu and Suzuki. “A teaser for the first Sega Competitive Tournament!”
Shimizu and Suzuki gaped, stunned by the scale.
“You didn’t think my talk of esports was just a pipe dream, did you?” Takuya smirked.
Shimizu and Suzuki recovered, bursting with excitement. “This is brilliant! Takuya, how do you come up with this?”
Takuya gave a cryptic look, urged by them to start recording.
Onscreen, Fatal Fury characters smoothly performed special moves.
A small window below displayed real-time joystick directions and button inputs.
Each precise command matched the screen’s dazzling move animations.
“Done with Terry’s Power Geyser,” Takuya nodded, signaling Suzuki to switch characters.
Shimizu watched, still awestruck. “Takuya, that input display is genius! Players will learn moves just by watching!”
Suzuki, immersed in recording, felt his fighting game design perspective expand daily under Takuya’s influence.
Embedding tutorials in promotional material was unheard of.
They efficiently recorded each character’s basic moves, special techniques, and supers—even Geese’s, sealed for now.
Next came Terry and Andy’s core combo demos.
Takuya took the controls, showcasing practical yet flashy combos, leaving Shimizu and Suzuki dumbfounded.
“These… can actually work in real matches?” Shimizu asked.
“Of course,” Takuya replied casually. “These are basic chains. More complex tricks are for players to discover.”
Over two days, Takuya finished recording and sent the edited footage to Tatsunoko Studio.
He personally called the animation team to discuss integration.
“Yes, add a character move demo at each episode’s end.”
“Keep it under two minutes, ensure clear visuals and precise input displays.”
“Exactly—make viewers watch the anime and rush to arcades to try those moves!”
“Episode 9 reveals Geese’s unlock. Episodes 10 and 11 are Terry and Andy’s combo tutorials.”
“The last two episodes… tease the first Sega Competitive Tournament!”
Director Oba, on the call, was clearly floored by the layered plan.
Hanging up, Takuya exhaled deeply.
The plan’s gears were meshing and turning.
The animation PV lit the first spark, but it wasn’t enough.
Takuya aimed to channel the anime’s entertainment buzz into arcades, converting it into coin drops and player retention.
The “in-game move lists” and “combo demos” at episode endings were his key fuses, subtly turning viewers into players.
Kyoto, Nintendo headquarters.
Reports on the “K project” trailer and its teen frenzy reached Hiroshi Yamauchi’s desk via various channels.
A report with colorful screenshots sat beside a VHS tape.
Yamauchi’s fingers tapped the polished mahogany desk, scanning the vivid fight scene stills. The visuals were stunning, movements fluid beyond the era’s tech. He even had the tape played, briefly watching Terry’s Burn Knuckle, pausing on its powerful pose.
In the office, Nintendo’s core executives sat rigidly, the mood serious.
“Sega’s investment looks hefty; the animation’s production cost can’t be low,” a finance executive spoke, voice tinged with cost-control concern.
“Hmph, just a flashy stunt,” the marketing head scoffed. “No matter how fancy the anime, a game’s a game. Their arcade board likely supports a dozen colors at best—how can it match this animation? Players will cry foul when the game doesn’t deliver.”
“Exactly,” a tech executive added. “Atari’s E.T. burned them with movie tie-in hype and shoddy quality, burying themselves. Sega’s repeating that mistake.”
Someone muttered, “Heard they’re adding game tutorials to anime endings… ridiculous. Who watches credits for button combos?”
Amid the chatter, Yamauchi raised a hand, silencing the room.
He picked up the illustrated report, tapped Terry’s screenshot, then pushed it aside.
“Animation is animation; games are games,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “This kind of hype can’t bridge the core gap.”
His gaze drifted out the window, beyond Kyoto’s streets.
“North America’s foundation is set. NES’s momentum is unstoppable, our console empire expanding steadily.”
“Atari’s lesson isn’t to fear hype but to recognize that victory hinges on product quality and user experience—especially in our console market.”
“Sega’s arcade antics in Japan are small fries, scraping for crumbs from our bowl.”
His verdict was final, unwavering.
“Stick to our strategy. Deepen North America’s hold, expand our lead. In Japan, proceed as planned—Famicom’s software lineup is key.”
“We don’t need to waste energy on these side shows.”
This judgment, rooted in experience and absolute confidence, unified Nintendo’s stance. To them, Fatal Fury’s trailer and “small moves” were a flashy but hollow, even misguided, marketing bubble.
