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Chapter 539: Sonaya’s Plan and Zagashira Dinner
🕑 Added 2025-07-25 02:06:15 +0000 UTCWednesday 1 November 1994
Hikaru Kurata sat in the development room alongside other engineers and Sonaya’s head of video game development, Junpei Hoshida. Though Kurata didn’t fully grasp the technical details, he genuinely valued the company’s projects and made it a point to stay engaged. His calm presence and open-door attitude earned him quiet respect among the developers, as they knew he was always willing to listen and consider their concerns with sincerity but still occasionally he pissed off and of course he himself has certains boundaries.
Junpei spoke up, “After reverse-engineering various ZAGE arcade machines that use polygon 3D technologies, we’ve learned a lot. I think it’s very possible to implement this on PC or in arcade machines.” The Sonaya engineers, working closely alongside Junpei Hoshida, had been diligently studying ZAGE’s arcade machines and PC games. In fact, they had learned countless techniques and insights along the way, realizing that ZAGE’s approach to game development was on an entirely different level — refined, innovative, and far beyond what they had previously imagined. Despite feeling occasionally overwhelmed by the gap in expertise, the Sonaya team remained determined to catch up, motivated by both professional pride and the thrill of tackling a new frontier in gaming.
Kurata leaned back, thinking aloud. “Neither option is very appealing. Right now, even our latest game, Magic Canon, has decent sales, but I don’t think we can outshine ZAGE’s PC products. As for arcades, we don’t even have plans to enter that market yet.” His fingers drummed lightly on the table, eyes narrowing as he considered the company’s position. “Still, we can’t just stand still,” he murmured, a hint of frustration in his voice, “or we’ll be left even further behind.”
Junpei nodded. “Well, there’s another solution.” He grinned slightly, a flicker of ambition in his eyes. “A 32-bit console.” Kurata’s eyes lit up, clearly excited. “How long, Junpei?” he asked, leaning forward in anticipation. Junpei folded his arms thoughtfully. “We don’t have an exact estimate yet, but it could take a full year of focused development — maybe longer, depending on the challenges we hit along the way.” He let out a soft breath. “It’s not just the hardware, boss — we’ll need time to design a solid lineup of launch titles and make sure we have developer support ready. But if we pull it off, it could be a game changer for Sonaya.”
Kurata raised an eyebrow. “Are you confident this 32-bit console will succeed? Or will it end up like the Titan Drive — where we dominated at launch, only for it to fade once ZAGE’s 16-bit console arrived?” Junpei sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly, boss, even I’m not sure. It’s possible the same thing will happen as with the Titan Drive… but we’ve learned a lot since then.” He paused, glancing at the team working behind glass. “The market has changed, and so have we. If we play our cards right — better launch titles, stronger marketing, and tighter hardware support — we might stand a fighting chance this time.”
Kurata let out a slow breath. “I see. Honestly, maybe that’s unavoidable.” His eyes drifted thoughtfully toward the window before returning to Junpei. “How many games do you think the team can develop if I give you around a year and a half to work on this 32-bit console?” His voice carried a mix of concern and determination, knowing this project might define their next chapter.
Junpei hesitated. “Boss, we can’t predict that right now — we’ve never developed a 32-bit game for a 32-bit console before.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of doubt in his voice. “It’s a big leap, and honestly, there’s a steep learning curve ahead for the whole team.” He added, “Then again, if we can pull this off within that 1.5-year window, we can still take the lead over ZAGE — at least until they launch their own 32-bit console. It’s risky, but it’s also the kind of gamble that could redefine Sonaya’s reputation and show the world we’re capable of standing at the front of the industry then again if ZAGE didn't release any consoles at that interval but I really doubt they would do that.”
Kurata chuckled, a sly smile forming. “Heh, then we can use that to our advantage. We’ll say that Sonaya is always ahead of ZAGE when it comes to console innovation. Even if their 32-bit console arrives later and outperforms us, the narrative that we’re always ‘first’ will stick — and that alone could boost public perception.” His eyes gleamed with calculation, already picturing the headlines and marketing slogans they could spin to shape public opinion.
Junpei nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a valid point, boss.”
But Hikaru Kurata frowned, his brow furrowing. “But what do you mean by that? Are you saying it’s unlikely ZAGE will hold back from releasing any 32-bit consoles for the next 1.5 years? Do you think their engineers aren’t capable enough, or is there something else you’re implying?”
Junpei shook his head. "We know that’s not the case — if Zaboru wanted, a 32-bit console would be easily within their reach. But... because of Zaboru himself, they might stay in the 16-bit era longer. That’s just how strange he is as a boss. Do you remember how our spies at ZAGE said Zaboru already had a complete 16-bit console draft but kept it locked away because he wanted 8-bit games to develop further first? I think he’s going to do the same with the 16-bit era. That guy is really hard to predict, boss — his thinking doesn’t always follow normal business logic, and that’s what makes him both dangerous and brilliant."
"I see, I understand — but it's not a bad thing, really," Kurata said with a grin, his eyes glinting with resolve. “Then good. Start the project. I’m giving you two weeks to finalize the development plan, and I’ll also bring in more talent to help push things forward. As for the Titan Drive, we’ll rely on the third-party studios we’ve acquired to keep its game library alive so it doesn’t go dry. I want you to make sure the new console not only impresses technically but also grabs players emotionally — we can’t afford to deliver something soulless." Junpei nodded firmly. “Got it, boss. I’m on it.” With that, Junpei turned on his heel, determination flickering across his face as he left to begin work on Sonaya’s 32-bit project plan.
Kurata leaned back in his office chair, chuckling to himself. “It doesn’t matter if it turns out like the Titan Drive… As long as Sonaya keeps improving, there will always be fans who get bored of ZAGE and come to us instead.” His eyes sparkled with a mix of defiance and ambition. He grinned, determined, fingers tapping lightly on the armrest. While he had given up on surpassing ZAGE in the short term, he refused to give up in the long run. Deep down, he saw every small win, every improvement, as a brick laid toward a stronger future — and he was ready to weather the long game, no matter how many setbacks came along the way.
Meanwhile, at the Zagashira mansion, the entire Zagashira family was gathered for dinner. Zenzou Zagashira, the family patriarch, sat at the head of the table, his sharp eyes surveying the room. Among his children was none other than Zukechi Zagashira, the owner of ZUSUGA, who sat stiffly, trying to mask his anxiety. The atmosphere buzzed with tension beneath the surface, every glance and pause loaded with unspoken judgments and family rivalries.
Zukechi fidgeted nervously until Zenzou spoke directly to him. “Zuke, I hear your ZUSUGA company has failed miserably.” Zukechi straightened up quickly, forcing a confident snort. “No, Father! It’s just that the lead game developer I hired was incompetent. I already fired him and replaced him with someone better. This time, ZU Gen 1 will rise again!” His voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying his nervous energy. Zenzou raised an eyebrow, his sharp gaze lingering. “Fine. I trust you. I’ll give you one more year to deliver the results I want.” His words were calm but carried a weight that pressed on everyone at the table.
Zukechi grinned, feeling a surge of relief and happiness at still having his father’s support.
But then, his eldest brother, Zanki Zagashira, scoffed. “Incompetent bastard, always leeching off Father’s money. And Father, you’re still spoiling him…” Zukechi flinched, his fists clenching under the table. Zanki was the most successful of Zenzou’s sons — a key figure behind Mitsubishi and Toshiba’s latest successful products, helping both companies soar. Even though he didn’t own his own company, he was an invaluable asset to Mitsubishi and Toshiba, and Zukechi was terrified of him. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay quiet, deciding it was safer not to answer back. The tension around him thickened, his face flushing with a mix of shame and silent rage.
But then someone spoke up. “If you had an ounce of pride, Zuke,” the person sneered, “you’d commit harakiri and at least make your death look cool — like some samurai shit, full of pride! Kehehehe.” This cruel jab came from another brother, Zenkichi Zagashira, the owner of several red-light district businesses, especially in Kabukicho. Zukechi shot back, his face red, “Shut up, you gigolo! At least what I do is still honorable!” Zenkichi grinned wickedly, his voice dripping with mockery. “What’s the use of honor if you can’t bring in money and you’re always broke like your sorry ass, Zuke? Kehehehe.”
Meanwhile, their older sister, Zana Zagashira — one of Japan’s most famous actresses, even breaking into Hollywood — simply sipped her wine silently, observing the scene. With a cool, composed voice, she finally remarked, “Zenkichi, Zukechi, can you at least maintain your manners? You’re behaving like apes.” Her sharp words cut through the tension, momentarily silencing the table.
Zenzou only sighed. Usually, Zenzou would have reprimanded his children for bullying Zukechi too harshly, but tonight, he said nothing. He simply sat in silence, his expression unreadable as he stared into the distance. Zukechi lowered his head, fists clenched, seething inside. Just you wait, you bastards! I’ll show you all that I can be a success! The anger twisted in his chest, mixing with a flicker of hurt and desperation. With that bitter thought burning in his mind, he stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor, and stormed out of the room, leaving an uneasy hush in his wake.
But then Zanki said coldly, "Where do you think you’re going, worthless worm? We haven’t even finished dinner yet. If you’re incompetent, at least work on your manners so you can properly serve superior people." Zukechi froze mid-step, his forehead beading with sweat. His hands clenched at his sides as his heart pounded painfully in his chest. He glanced at his father, silently pleading for help, but Zenzou continued calmly enjoying his meal, his chopsticks moving with quiet precision, offering no support, no acknowledgment, not even a glance. Defeated, Zukechi let out a shaky breath and returned to the table, murmuring, "I’m sorry, Nii-sama." Zanki snorted dismissively, then Zenkichi let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Hahaha, coward." Zanki shot him a cold glare. "You better shut the fuck up too, Zen." Zenkichi flinched, his grin faltering as he swallowed hard and gave a nervous chuckle. "Hey, chill, Ani-za… kehehehe." For a moment, no one spoke. Zukechi’s hands trembled slightly as he picked up his chopsticks, eyes fixed on the uneaten food before him. His appetite was gone, replaced by a swirling knot of shame and anger. Around the table, the family ate on, each lost in their own thoughts, the air heavy with unspoken resentments. Outside, the night wind rattled faintly against the paper doors, the only sound breaking the suffocating silence in the dining room of a family dinner without any warmth.
Meanwhile, in the Renkonan family household, Zanichi, once part of the Zagashira family, enjoyed a warm, cheerful dinner with his loved ones. Laughter filled the air as he chatted happily with his son, daughter, and wife, sharing stories from their day and joking over small things. He looked at them with deep affection, grateful for the peace and happiness they brought him, a stark contrast to the cold tension lingering in his former family home.
To be continued.
