The day after attending the premiere of "my neighbor totoro," Takuya Nakayama was back in the battlefield constructed of telephone lines, fax paper, and caffeine.
He rubbed his temples, attempting to temporarily clear Oshi Mamoru's stern face and Anno Hideaki's fervent gaze from his thoughts. Those metaphysical discussions about art and expression ultimately had to give way to the more concrete reality before him.
As soon as he sat down, his assistant silently placed a steaming cup of black coffee and a folder on his desk.
"Managing Director, Kojima-san's project is complete."
Takuya Nakayama's movement paused as he picked up the folder. Then, a burning light reignited in the bloodshot eyes caused by his all-nighter.
The newly formed Kojima Team in the game development department.
Hideo Kojima sat beside Takuya Nakayama, leaning slightly forward, his hands tightly clasped.
On the screen, a small figure codenamed "Solid Snake" was pressed against a wall, cautiously avoiding the enemies' fan-shaped field of vision.
The radar system monotonously scanned in a corner of the screen; each update of an enemy's position meant a tense decision for action.
Takuya Nakayama's gaze remained fixed on the screen.
He saw how, despite limited machine capabilities, Hideo Kojima skillfully used scrolling, layers, and logical judgment to create an unprecedented gaming experience.
And the interspersed dialogues and radio system gradually enriched the characters and story details.
When Solid Snake successfully infiltrated the target location and the game demo ended, a slight silence fell over the office.
Hideo Kojima looked somewhat uneasily at Takuya Nakayama, awaiting the final judgment.
Takuya Nakayama slowly turned his head and reached out, patting Hideo Kojima's shoulder firmly.
"Kojima-san."
His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable weight: "I was not mistaken about you. This is the game I expected."
"This is the unique creativity of our Sega that I want to show the whole world."
By the end of April, public opinion was almost entirely dominated by NEC's PC Engine, whose new releases in late March had garnered widespread acclaim from players for their vibrant colors and smooth graphics.
Sega's recent games also sold well, but they didn't generate much buzz or attention, appearing somewhat lacking in staying power in media reports.
Akihabara, the holy land of gaming.
On the bustling main street, the most prominent giant billboard was quietly replaced overnight.
The morning sun illuminated the brand-new poster: no passionate shouts, no colorful magical effects, and certainly no adorable cartoon protagonists.
The main subject of the image was a man with a resolute expression and deep eyes.
His face, chiseled as if by a knife and axe, was shrouded in cool shadows.
The background consisted of intricate mechanical structures and cold steel, with strong brushstrokes and an almost ink-wash texture, giving the entire image a suffocating sense of solemnity and oppression.
It was like a silent intruder, appearing out of place amidst the surrounding boisterous and cartoon-style posters, yet possessing an undeniable powerful aura.
Passersby stopped in their tracks.
"What is this?"
"Is it a movie poster? Which company made it?"
"No, wait, there are Sega and MD logos below… Is it a game?"
Initially, there was confusion.
Then, this confusion quickly fermented, transforming into intense curiosity and inquiry.
In the bottom right corner of the poster, there was a not-so-conspicuous signature.
"Yoji Shinkawa."
This unfamiliar name, along with this uniquely styled "artwork," immediately became a hot topic among players and game magazine editors.
The "adult, serious, and profound" atmosphere it created acted like a precise magnet, firmly attracting a group of mature players who were already somewhat weary of traditional "defeat the demon king" fairy-tale games.
A storm, ignited by a single poster, was brewing.
This was exactly the pre-release buzz Takuya Nakayama wanted.
He wanted the name "metal gear" to be deeply imprinted with the mark of "uniqueness" even before its official release.
Looking at the reports of players' enthusiastic discussions outside the window, Takuya Nakayama's thoughts drifted back to a few months ago.
At that time, the "metal gear" project had just been initiated, and Hideo Kojima was struggling with the game's art design.
Many of his design proposals from his time at Konami could no longer be used. He needed a visual language completely different from what he had used at Konami, one that would perfectly align with the game's stealth theme.
"I have someone here; perhaps you could look at his work."
Takuya Nakayama took out a stack of design drafts from his drawer and handed them to Hideo Kojima.
These were the works of Yoji Shinkawa, the art director, character designer, mech designer, and promotional artist for the "metal gear" series, whom he had found by following his memories from his previous life—a student from Kyoto Seika University's Faculty of Fine Arts.
Hideo Kojima's eyes lit up with just one glance.
The unique understanding of light and shadow in the drafts, the powerful lines, and the cool artistic conception that integrated characters and machinery instantly struck him.
He immediately set off for Kyoto to personally invite this young university student to join the project.
Yoji Shinkawa was a typical anime, game, and model enthusiast. Facing an invitation from a well-known game company in the industry, he agreed almost without hesitation.
However, this was followed by the hardship of Hideo Kojima having to shuttle back and forth between Tokyo and Kyoto.
Yoji Shinkawa once felt that he was delaying the project's progress and even impulsively wanted to drop out of school to devote himself entirely to the work.
"Don't be in a hurry to make a decision."
Takuya Nakayama stopped him.
He didn't preach any grand principles but instead laid Yoji Shinkawa's latest mech design draft on the table.
"Look, the design of this mechanical arm is very aesthetic and full of power."
Takuya Nakayama's finger pointed to a joint on the blueprint.
"However, under the reality of mechanical structure, this connection point is too fragile and simply cannot support it making violent movements like swinging or grasping."
His finger then slid to another character design.
"The muscle lines on the character's back are drawn very exaggeratedly, with great tension. But you've overlooked that when he makes this twisting posture, his left scapula should be in a completely different position. The current drawing does not conform to the human skeletal support logic."
These words, without a single criticism, made fine sweat bead on Yoji Shinkawa's forehead.
His unrestrained imagination was, for the first time, so precisely measured by the ruler named "reality."
He suddenly realized that the human anatomy and industrial design principles he found boring in school were not useless theories.
They were precisely the foundation that would allow his fantasies to firmly take root.
Later, Takuya Nakayama even personally accompanied Yoji Shinkawa to visit his university mentor, asking him to guide Yoji Shinkawa on enriching his art theory, including content to study outside of scheduled courses, corresponding book lists, and planning a growth path that balanced academics and project practice.
In the final flashback, Takuya Nakayama looked at this talented but still somewhat naive young man and said earnestly:
"Shinkawa-kun, what I expect is not just a genius who draws for 'metal gear'."
"I hope you can become the first art master to lead the aesthetics of all of Sega and even the entire game industry in the future."
These words, like a giant rock thrown into Yoji Shinkawa's heart, stirred up a thousand waves, making him regain his belief in completing his studies at school and mastering all the extracurricular content provided by his mentor.