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Chapter 184 – Planning for the Christmas and New Year Season
🕑 Added 2025-10-31 10:29:17 +0000 UTCAfter the development team meeting, Takuya Nakayama sat alone in his office, his fingertips gliding over the open release schedule for upcoming MD (Mega Drive) games.
On the table, there was only one title circled in red—“Shining Force: Legacy of the Gods.”
As a well-crafted SRPG, it was certainly worthy of being promoted as Sega’s flagship strategy title.
As for the Golden Sun trilogy, the project was still under Rieko Tamashiro’s team, with little concrete progress reported so far. Takuya’s assistant had already submitted two rounds of financial progress and budget comparison sheets, but both times, Takuya intercepted them before they reached the development team. He could easily picture the finance department’s uneasy, frowning faces as they handed over those reports.
But that was exactly what he wanted—great works take time.
He wasn’t after quick results. What he wanted was a team capable of creating top-tier RPGs for Sega.
Takuya picked up his desk phone and called for his assistant.
Moments later, the assistant entered briskly.
“Send this MD year-end release schedule to all our third-party liaison teams,” Takuya said, pushing the thin schedule sheet to the center of his desk.
The assistant leaned forward to take a look—and almost thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.
On the large spreadsheet, from November through the New Year, Sega’s own release lineup featured only one title: Shining Force: Legacy of the Gods. The rest of the schedule was entirely blank.
The assistant hesitated, his gaze moving between the red circle under late November and the long stretch of white space after it.
“You mean… we won’t have any new releases during the entire Christmas and New Year season?”
“That’s right. Leave it open,” Takuya said, leaning back in his chair, fingers interlocked over his stomach.
“Tell them Sega is doing this to ‘enrich the market’ and strengthen the MD’s third-party lineup. We’re intentionally leaving the year-end sales season open for our partners, so they can make the most of the opportunity.”
The assistant’s mouth hung slightly open, struggling to process what he’d just heard.
Giving up the most profitable and competitive sales window of the entire year? That didn’t sound like Sega at all.
Takuya noticed his hesitation and added calmly, “Also remind them that to avoid unnecessary competition, Sega hopes all partners will submit their project schedules. We’ll do our best to coordinate the release windows to prevent similar titles from overlapping.”
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When Sega’s year-end release plan reached its partners, every third-party publisher began carefully reviewing their own projects—each considering whether their games could take advantage of the upcoming holiday rush.
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Square Headquarters
President Masashi Miyamoto was reading a report in his office when a secretary knocked and brought in a new fax.
“It’s from Sega,” she said.
Miyamoto glanced at it, then paused for a moment before picking up his phone. “Sakaguchi, come to my office.”
Not long after, Hironobu Sakaguchi walked in, hair messy and dark circles visible under his eyes.
Ever since Final Fantasy’s explosive success, he had thrown himself into developing its sequel. The latest report—nearly one million total sales—had electrified the entire team. They were working like machines wound too tight, fueled purely by excitement.
“President, what’s up? The sequel’s coming along smoothly. Uematsu already finished a rough draft of the theme music. It’s—”
“Take a look at this first.” Miyamoto slid the fax across the desk.
Sakaguchi frowned slightly as he picked it up. After one glance, his eyebrows shot up.
“Sega’s year-end lineup has only one game? Shining Force—and the rest is blank?”
“They claim it’s to ‘enrich the market,’ leaving the spotlight for third-party partners,” Miyamoto said lazily, leaning back in his chair. “They even kindly suggest that we report our project schedules so they can help us ‘coordinate’ release windows.”
Sakaguchi set down the fax and gave a small, knowing smile. “So… what’s Nakayama up to this time?”
Miyamoto’s fingers tapped lightly on the desk. “Who knows? But since they’re offering, we’ll take them up on it. Send them word that Final Fantasy II will release this winter. How’s your progress?”
“All assets are finalized and integrated. Two more weeks of testing, and we’ll have the master ready for production,” Sakaguchi said confidently.
“Excellent.” Miyamoto stood, clapping him on the shoulder. “Then tell the team: release date—late December. Put everything into marketing. If Sega’s cleared the stage, there’s no reason we shouldn’t take center spotlight.”
Sakaguchi grinned wide, fatigue vanishing instantly.
“I’ll go tell the guys right now!”
---
Bandai Headquarters
President Yamashina stared intently at the monitor.
On screen, a young Goku soared across mountain peaks on his Nimbus cloud. The camera shifted into a fluid, manga-style cinematic showing his first meeting with Bulma.
When the demo operator pressed forward on the controller, the scene transitioned seamlessly into gameplay. Each of young Goku’s movements carried that distinct Toriyama energy.
“Hmm… not bad,” Yamashina murmured, nodding slightly.
The development lead in front of him tensed. The president wasn’t just satisfied—he looked relieved.
Earlier that year, Bandai had enjoyed enormous success with SD Gundam G Generation. That project had come from a design plan proposed by none other than Takuya Nakayama. It became both a commercial and critical hit—one that could even be spun into a long-running series.
So when Bandai’s self-developed Dragon Ball: World Martial Arts Tournament failed to impress players, the company didn’t waste time blaming internal teams—they went straight to Sega for advice.
The development director had returned with an old proposal from Nakayama’s archives—one based on his earlier concept, Dragon Ball Z3: Clash of the Androids. Initially, there were doubts.
But now, as the almost-finished Dragon Ball: Goku’s Great Adventure played before them, everyone understood—they’d made the right call.
“President,” the development lead said cautiously, “the story ends right after the Red Ribbon Army arc, just as planned—to leave room for a sequel.”
“Excellent,” Yamashina nodded.
Before he could say more, the secretary entered with a fresh fax. “President, this just came in—from Sega.”
He took it and immediately noticed the title: Notice Regarding the MD Platform’s Year-End Release Plan. His eyes lit up.
The moment he saw the wide open schedule—nothing but Shining Force filling the late November slot—he burst out laughing.
“Hahaha!”
Everyone in the room stared, confused.
“Nakayama-san is truly our lucky star!” Yamashina said, slapping the fax on the table. “He not only gave us a brilliant development plan, now he’s clearing the road for us, too!”
He pointed at the blank space on the schedule.
“See that? Sega’s cleared the entire Christmas and New Year season! They said it’s for their partners—but that means us!”
Then his gaze fell on the polite “coordination request” note, and he instantly understood.
“That’s a message to their core partners! They’re telling us to submit our titles quickly so they can give us the best release window!”
He stood abruptly, energized.
“Notify everyone—Dragon Ball: Goku’s Great Adventure launches mid-December! Tell marketing to go all-out. Sega’s already served the meal—if anyone can’t eat it, they’re fired!”
