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Chapter 652 ZUSUGA Handheld under Zanki
🕑 Added 2025-09-17 02:22:27 +0000 UTCMonday 8 March 1996 ZUSUGA offices.
Zanki Zagashira was now inside the main workshop of his company, ZUSUGA. The air buzzed faintly with the sound of soldering tools and testing equipment. In front of him sat the company's latest prototype: a sleek 16-bit handheld console. Its clean white color scheme gave it a futuristic look. It featured two shoulder trigger buttons on top, three circular buttons on the right for gameplay controls, and a sturdy 4-directional D-pad on the left. What caught the eye most, however, was the slightly larger-than-average screen—sharp, vibrant, and framed neatly with the word “ZUSUGA” printed boldly above it, a subtle but confident brand mark.
Zanki studied the device carefully. He didn’t play video games himself, but he knew design, and he could sense that this device had potential. Even without being a gamer, he could appreciate the balance in the layout and the ergonomics of the grip. It looked and felt like a premium product, and for Zanki, that mattered just as much as the gameplay itself.
“This honestly looks great,” Zanki said with a nod. Although he didn’t fully understand video games himself, he listened carefully to what his developers and R&D team had been saying over the past few months. He wasn't hands-on with coding or hardware engineering, but he had a sharp mind for identifying problems and offering practical solutions. That leadership helped guide the handheld’s development through its most complex stages. His talent for managing people and keeping the team aligned meant that progress stayed on schedule, and despite his lack of gaming knowledge, the project thrived under his direction. Clearly, Zanki was a completely different breed compared to his brother Zukechi—the former owner of ZUSUGA—who was notorious for pointing fingers and doing little to nothing when it came to actual management. While Zukechi wasted opportunities and let the company drift, Zanki rolled up his sleeves and got involved where it mattered, pushing the team forward with leadership and purpose.
This handheld still wasn’t ready for market release, as the development team was actively working on the software lineup for launch. Zanki had made it clear that a strong first impression would be critical, so he and the team planned a launch lineup of six titles—each carefully selected to showcase the hardware’s performance, screen quality, and unique control feel. These titles ranged from action games to puzzle and RPG entries, aiming to appeal to a broad range of players. The handheld’s hardware was solid, but without compelling games, it wouldn’t stand a chance.
Zanki estimated the handheld would be ready for launch in either April or early May, depending on final testing and marketing coordination. He had already decided on the name—Reborn 16. The title held symbolic weight. It wasn’t just a new device; it was a second chance. After the crushing failure of the original ZUSUGA Gen 1 console, this handheld was positioned to mark the rebirth of ZUSUGA’s place in the console market.
Importantly, Zanki never saw that earlier failure as his burden to carry. The Gen 1 console’s downfall had been due to his brother Zukechi’s mismanagement and incompetence. Zanki had inherited a broken foundation, but he was building something stronger from its ruins—something that could finally put the ZUSUGA name back in the spotlight, and on the shelves of players everywhere.
But still, this handheld wasn’t nearly as efficient or battery-friendly as the ZAGE Game Boy—better known as the ZGB. While the ZGB could last an impressive 9 to 10 hours thanks to its signature Z battery, the ZUSUGA handheld could only manage 3 to 4 hours of runtime. The reason was clear: this device required far more power to run its larger screen, stronger processor, and higher fidelity audio. It simply consumed more energy, and Zanki knew this was a major weak point.
He had been looking for ways to address the issue. Several potential solutions were being explored, including developing a custom low-draw chipset, optimizing the display , or partnering with third-party battery manufacturers. However, all of these ideas would take months—if not years—to bring to production quality.
With the Reborn 16’s release window approaching fast, Zanki made a pragmatic decision. For now, the battery life would remain at 3 to 4 hours. It wasn’t ideal, but it was acceptable—especially if the rest of the handheld’s features delivered.
In the meantime, ZUSUGA had already started reaching out to battery suppliers to negotiate a deal. The goal was to offer affordable spare batteries and possibly a future extended-life model. If successful, the company could soften the blow of shorter battery life by making replacements inexpensive and widely available. It was a stopgap, but for now, it was the best they could do without delaying launch.
Zanki then leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. “First, I need to find a professional video game reviewer,” he muttered. “I don’t really play games myself, but I want to make sure the titles we put out are high-quality and actually have a chance to succeed in the marketplace.”
He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, considering his next move. If he couldn’t judge the games personally, he needed someone who could. Someone honest, experienced, and respected enough to tell him the truth—even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
“Because if my games are actually decent—at least fun—then Zaboru will definitely play them. And if he enjoys them, then it’s honestly an easy win,” Zanki said, grinning to himself with growing confidence. “All I have to do is hire someone to interview him and casually ask his thoughts about the Reborn 16 launch titles. That fool—if he genuinely likes the games, he’ll say so without holding back.”
Zanki’s grin widened. “And that’s it. That’s all I need. A single, sincere comment from Zaboru praising our games—that’s more powerful than any ad campaign. His words carry real weight in the industry. Gamers trust him. If he calls them good, people will listen. That’s the best kind of free marketing there is.”
Zanki leaned back, pleased with his own thinking. He knew Zaboru wasn’t the type to play mind games or analyze marketing ploys when its about good video games—he was passionate, honest, and wore his thoughts on his sleeve. That made him vulnerable to being used. Zanki didn’t feel guilty about it. To him, it was just strategic leverage. He was going to exploit Zaboru’s straightforward nature to boost his company’s success. And if it worked, the Reborn 16 could become a serious contender in the handheld console war.
"Besides, that fool might actually be thrilled if our Reborn 16 performs well. He’ll probably think to himself, "There will be more good games for me to play!"—like an excited kid who just got a new toy. Hahaha! Such a simpleton. He doesn’t even realize how easily his enthusiasm can be turned into marketing gold for us."
But then, Zanki’s laughter faded. His expression hardened as he clenched his fist, a sharp memory cutting through his excitement. Just a few months ago, Toshiba had released the TEN CD Player—an advanced system capable of playing up to 10 CDs in sequence and this are Zanki creation he really think it will be success, another blow came fast and hard: ZAGE, in collaboration with Philips, had launched the PZ-DVD Player. This machine used brand-new DVD technology—capable of storing over 5GB of data on a single disc, effectively replacing 10 CDs with one sleek format.
Compared to that, Zanki’s own product line suddenly looked outdated—like a bad joke from a previous era. The leap in storage capacity, speed, and convenience left his innovations feeling obsolete before they even had a chance to catch on. That sting hadn’t left him. And now, as he stood at the edge of a new launch with the Reborn 16, he knew he couldn’t afford another humiliation like that.
Zanki calmed himself. The TEN CD might have been a disaster, but this—this Reborn 16—was something else entirely. It had promise. "Still, I can't just rely on that alone," he muttered. "I need to be smart about marketing. No matter how good the hardware is, if no one hears about it, it’ll fail just like everything else."
He drummed his fingers on the desk, running through ideas in his head. "Well... ZUSUGA still has enough money to fund a decent advertising campaign. And maybe—I could ask Zana to do the ads for Reborn 16 too. That might work."
Zana Zagashira, his younger sister, was one of the most successful actresses in Japan. Known for her elegance and charisma, she had built a solid career not only in Japanese dramas but had even crossed over into Hollywood. Her most recent international film had been a box office hit in both Japan and the U.S., and her star power was undeniable. Not to mention, she was also an accomplished singer with a handful of hit singles topping the charts.
If Reborn 16 had her face on its marketing—whether it be on television, print ads, or store displays—it would almost guarantee massive exposure, at least within Japan. Fans of Zana would pay attention to anything she endorsed, and if even a fraction of her popularity translated into interest for the handheld, that alone would be a huge win.
"Yeah," Zanki said, nodding to himself. "Zana could really carry this campaign. She’s not just my sister—she’s a national icon. If anyone can make the Reborn 16 look cool, it’s her."
With that, Zanki took a slow sip of his wine, savoring the moment as if sealing his thoughts with the taste. He placed the glass back on the table, straightened his jacket, and left his office to attend a series of meetings lined up for the day—his mind still churning with plans for the Reborn 16.
To be continue
