In the conference room at Nintendo Headquarters, the air seemed to solidify, so oppressive it was suffocating.
Hiroshi Yamauchi's knuckles tapped lightly on the smooth mahogany table, each 'thump, thump' like a drumbeat in the hearts of every attendee.
His usual imposing aura, without needing to show anger, was now as heavy as a mountain.
On the projection screen, the market analyst had just finished his report.
A glaring data chart mercilessly displayed the vast gap between Nintendo FC cartridge sales and expectations before Christmas.
The curve representing actual sales seemed to have been forcibly dragged down, leaving an ugly gap.
Following closely was a report on the recent sales data of the pokémon series of products—sales of the electronic pet itself continued to climb, while the sales of Evolution Stones, communication exchange services, and various colorful merchandise at the Pokémon Center drew a startlingly steep growth curve with an almost savage momentum.
"Sega's one-two punch is no longer just about selling toys," said a director, usually known for his composure, whose temple veins now throbbed slightly, and his voice carried a hint of imperceptible hoarseness.
He pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, as if wanting to see more clearly what kind of opponent this truly was.
Another marketing executive took over, his tone lacking its usual fluidity, replaced by a deep solemnity: "They are weaving a vast net, from the story content of the animated series to the electronic pets in children's hands, and then to the offline Pokémon Center experience, comprehensively and thoroughly vying for the attention of the younger generation, their pocket money, and even… their parents' budget for Christmas gifts."
In the conference room, several executives exchanged glances; their proud FC console, though still the king of living room entertainment, was facing a new type of entertainment—pokémon—which was more portable, emphasized social interaction, and almost integrated into every aspect of children's daily lives.
It was quietly eroding their existing market share at a speed they had not anticipated, and even found somewhat incomprehensible.
A younger planning manager couldn't help but mutter, "It's like boiling a frog in warm water; by the time we feel the heat, the water is already almost boiling."
Hiroshi Yamauchi lifted his eyelids, his eyes, sharp enough to penetrate one's heart, hidden behind tinted lenses.
He slowly spoke, his voice deeper than usual by more than a tone: "We seem to have… underestimated the potential of this 'electronic pet' from the very beginning, or rather, underestimated the intense chemical reaction produced when this series of seemingly unrelated goods and cultural products are linked together in the hands of that young man, Takuya Nakayama."
He paused, picked up the teacup in front of him, but did not drink, merely stirring the floating tea leaves with the lid.
"Consumers' wallets are not infinite, and children's time and energy are also limited.
When those little Elf occupy more and more share, there will naturally be little left for our FC game cartridges."
"President, Sega is practically cheating! They aren't even competing with us on the same track!" an irritable head of the development department complained, with a hint of indignation.
Hiroshi Yamauchi glanced at him, noncommittal.
Cheating?
The market is like a battlefield; there is only victory or defeat, no talk of cheating.
The discussion in the conference room fell into a kind of deadlock; various analyses and suggestions were proposed, then overturned.
Facing this new phenomenon, which spread like a virus and quickly formed a subculture, traditional market competition strategies, such as price reductions, bundled sales, and strengthening channel control, now seemed somewhat ineffective and powerless.
Shigeru Miyamoto had been sitting quietly in his seat, his back straight.
He was not as anxious as the others, his expression calm to the point of indifference.
However, his hand, resting on his knee, knuckles slightly white from tension, betrayed his true inner emotions.
It was not panic, but a kind of desperate resolve.
He knew deeply that any flashy tricks were useless now; only by bringing out true hard power could they meet the challenge head-on.
After a long time, Hiroshi Yamauchi spoke again, breaking the silence in the room.
"However…" He drew out his words, his gaze sweeping over every core Nintendo executive present, "The Christmas season isn't over yet, and it's time to settle this score with Sega."
His voice was not loud, but it carried an undeniable authority, every word striking everyone's heart like an iron hammer.
"We must make the market, all players, and Sega remember who is the true, undisputed ruler in the home console gaming field!"
Hiroshi Yamauchi's finger tapped heavily on the thick mahogany conference table, emitting a dull 'thud,' as if beating the drum of counterattack.
"the legend of zelda II: The Adventure of Link," he paused, his gaze sharp as a torch, "And, Dragon Quest II: Luminaries of the Legendary Line."
The air in the conference room instantly vibrated!
These two names, like two bolts of lightning, exploded in everyone's ears.
If before there was suppression and anxiety, now, a mixed emotion of excitement and anticipation quickly spread.
"These two cards," a barely perceptible arc appeared at the corner of Hiroshi Yamauchi's mouth, "I want them to be played like a trump card! I want Sega, and everyone, to understand what 'one force conquers ten' means! In front of absolute quality and gameplay, all flashy things are just clowns!"
The head of the Marketing Department almost immediately sprang from his chair, his back as straight as a spear, his face flushed with excitement: "Yes! President! The publicity campaign is ready and can be fully launched at any time!" He swallowed, his voice trembling with excitement, "TV commercials, we will book all prime-time slots! Major game magazines must have covers plus full-page color spreads! All cooperative offline stores, hang up the biggest and most conspicuous giant posters! Make sure every child, every player, knows that their true national-level game, the king, has returned!"
"I want those kids holding electronic pets to throw away their plastic lumps and cry and beg their parents to buy our cartridges!" One executive even gestured with a clenched fist, drawing a few suppressed chuckles, and the tense atmosphere in the conference room immediately lightened considerably.
Hiroshi Yamauchi nodded with satisfaction, his gaze sparkling behind his tinted lenses.
He intended to use the fiercest, most direct firepower to reclaim, inch by inch, the territories encroached upon by pokémon.
The ultimate winner of Christmas could only be Nintendo.
At Enix, Yuji Horii was almost burning his life to conduct the final debugging of Dragon Quest II.
The release deadline set jointly by Nintendo and Enix hung over his head like a Sword of Damocles.
He knew that this sequel carried too many expectations and too heavy a responsibility, but at the same time, he was greatly motivated by Nintendo's recognition of his work, placing it on par with the legend of zelda.
It was not just a game; it was a heavy weapon against emerging trends.