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Chapter 10 - Acquisition Success
🕑 Added 2025-09-13 03:46:55 +0000 UTCEveryone turned to Sasaki, surprised. Rarely did Sasaki Nozomu speak up, yet today he was the first to offer a suggestion.
“Considering the CRT technology commonly used in arcade machines, overly saturated or high-contrast color combinations can cause brief visual persistence—ghosting—under fast-changing visuals, which could affect the player experience.”
He continued, “We can adjust the color palette, select specific combinations, and possibly optimize the program’s algorithms to mitigate this issue.”
His input was highly professional, pinpointing a subtle but real technical detail.
The room fell silent for a moment, all eyes on Sasaki.
Takuya nodded immediately, his face showing clear approval.
“Mr. Sasaki’s point is crucial and highly professional! This issue might not be noticeable to casual players, but it significantly impacts top-tier players. These players, admired by the broader community, amplify word-of-mouth. When players discover such subtle strengths, they’ll feel, ‘This product is exceptional!’—a sense of added value that elevates the brand.”
Takuya’s praise, laced with strategic insight, left Sasaki momentarily stunned, as if thinking, Am I really that impressive?
“I hadn’t considered this in such detail. I’ll entrust you with leading the color scheme’s technical implementation and optimization.”
He gave immediate affirmation and assigned the task.
Sasaki, slightly taken aback, nodded in agreement, his usual reserved seriousness softening a touch.
The room’s atmosphere warmed further after this exchange.
The meeting concluded in a positive, lively mood.
Team Leader Shimizu stepped up, summarizing the preliminary improvement directions discussed.
Graphic concepts, music and sound effect curation, refining the core competitive mechanics—tasks were tentatively assigned.
The Third Development Department, long dormant, began to hum around the Tetris arcade project.
The team’s faces glowed with renewed excitement and drive.
Their gazes toward Takuya Nakayama shifted from initial scrutiny and doubt to budding trust and anticipation.
The president’s office door opened quietly and closed again.
Tanaka, head of the International Business Department, stood before Hayao Nakayama’s expansive desk. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes carried more fatigue than their last corridor meeting but also a gleam of relief.
Beside him stood Takuya Nakayama.
Nearly three weeks had felt agonizingly long for those awaiting news.
“President, Deputy Team Leader Nakayama,” Tanaka began, bowing slightly. His tone remained precise, but a faint excitement betrayed his mood.
“After multiple rounds of tough negotiations, we’ve signed an agreement with the Soviet Foreign Trade Committee, ELORG.”
He placed a bound document gently on the desk.
“We’ve successfully acquired exclusive global rights for Tetris, covering all current and future known and unknown platforms.”
“The total cost: four million dollars.”
Four million dollars.
The figure made Hayao Nakayama’s brow twitch almost imperceptibly.
For a “promising” block game, this was a staggering price—enough to fund several large-scale arcade titles.
But what mattered more was “global scope,” “all platforms,” and “exclusive rights.”
That was the true value.
Tanaka adjusted his glasses and continued.
“The negotiation process was complex. Initially, the Soviets were rigid, with cumbersome internal procedures and low efficiency.”
“But,” he glanced at Takuya, “Deputy Team Leader Nakayama’s information on ELORG’s structure and key figures was pivotal.”
“We followed your advice to be ‘direct and swift,’ avoiding prolonged haggling.”
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
“Additionally, per your suggestion, we sent ten state-of-the-art Macintosh computers to the Soviet Academy of Sciences’ Computer Center and Mr. Pajitnov himself through special channels.”
“This caused a stir at the Academy and greatly softened ELORG’s stance, facilitating the agreement.”
He didn’t explicitly mention the “alcohol diplomacy,” but the subtle pause and wording hinted at its success.
Hayao’s gaze shifted between the document and Takuya, settling on his son. Beyond acknowledging his “business acumen,” there was now surprise at his “methods” and “information channels.”
He said nothing, only nodding slightly for Tanaka to continue.
Takuya offered a slightly shy smile.
“It’s mainly due to Minister Tanaka and the International Business team’s professionalism and efficiency. I just happened to hear some rumors and offered some rough suggestions.”
He deflected credit, maintaining his “lucky” and “incidental” persona.
This humility erased any discomfort Tanaka might have felt from reporting across ranks, leaving only pure admiration.
Hayao pondered, flipping through key clauses in the agreement before closing it.
“Minister Tanaka, well done.”
“Ensure the copyright documents are archived and legally verified meticulously.”
“Yes, President.”
Tanaka bowed again, leaving with the weighty agreement.
Only father and son remained.
Hayao looked at Takuya, silent for a long moment before speaking, his voice devoid of much emotion.
“Four million dollars for a block game.”
“I hope your vision matches this price.”
Takuya met his father’s gaze, calm and confident.
“Father, rest assured.”
“It will bring Sega returns far beyond this figure.”
The copyright confirmation injected the Third Development Department with a surge of energy.
The already fast-paced development work entered its final sprint.
Days later, in the department’s small testing room, Shimizu personally oversaw the final internal evaluation of the Tetris arcade version.
The projector screen lit up, no longer the crude prototype Takuya first showed.
With Sasaki Nozomu’s optimized color scheme, blocks in various hues fell and rotated swiftly on the simulated CRT, edges sharp, colors vivid yet not harsh, with minimal ghosting.
The background, no longer plain black, featured subtly dynamic, exotic patterns that enriched the visuals without distracting from gameplay.
The rousing Kalinka melody, reorchestrated for strong rhythm, filled the room.
As levels rose and blocks fell faster, the music’s BPM surged, amplifying tension.
Crisp block-landing sounds, satisfying clear effects, and oppressive warning tones—each feedback was distinct, powerful, and memorable.
When the demonstrator pulled off two clean “Tetris” clears (four lines at once), the screen flashed, and six rows of gray “garbage lines” flooded the opponent’s field, prompting stifled gasps from the onlookers.
The enhanced competitive mechanics made consecutive clears highly rewarding, adding variability and thrill to battles.
Sasaki, watching his optimized colors shine perfectly and seeing the team’s approval, felt his usual serious facade melt completely, a slight smile forming.
Takuya approached, patting his shoulder lightly.
“Mr. Sasaki, outstanding work.”
“Thank you.”
Sasaki paused, then nodded, a hint of pride in his eyes. “It’s the team’s collective effort.”
