Late July was the most grueling time of the year in Tokyo, the height of a sweltering summer where even the breeze felt like a wave of irritating heat.
Yet, inside the first-floor executive conference room at the Sega Headquarters Building, the atmosphere was starkly different.
The powerful central air conditioning hummed steadily, completely sealing out the outdoor heat.
Around the massive, oval mahogany conference table, legal and financial teams from Sega and Sotsu sat rigidly upright, conducting the final review of the documents.
The rustle of turning pages was exceptionally clear in the silent room, each sound striking the hearts of those present like a hammer blow.
Matsushima sat at the head of the guest side, his hands clasped on the table, his fingers unconsciously rubbing his thumb nail.
He turned to glance at Suzuki beside him.
Suzuki was staring fixedly at the thick final acquisition agreement before him, his gaze locked on the "Share Exchange Ratio" column. His Adam's apple bobbed sharply, and even his breathing had grown heavy.
Over the past month, Sega's stock price on the Tokyo Stock Exchange had practically taken off like a rocket, skyrocketing to new all-time highs.
With the stunning unveiling of the general-purpose engine at the E3 Exhibition and the strong sales performance of Sega's consoles in the North American market, institutional investors worldwide were locked in a near-frenzied scramble to acquire shares.
The old shareholders at Sotsu knew exactly what this meant. The Sega shares they were about to receive were now worth a staggering 30% more than they had been during the negotiations at Atami Onsen!
This was real money—billions of it! The thought made Suzuki feel his blood pressure soar. He was immensely grateful they hadn't been as stubborn and prideful as those fools at Bandai.
"Mr. Matsushima, Mr. Suzuki," Kiyoshi Hattori said, breaking the silence of the conference room as he lifted a delicate teacup and took a slow, deliberate sip. "The text is nearly finalized. Do either of you have any further questions?"
Matsushima snapped back to reality, hurriedly wiping his sweaty palms on his suit trousers.
"No questions, none at all. Mr. Honda from Daiwa Securities has been incredibly thorough. We truly feel Sega's sincerity," Matsushima said. He picked up the Montblanc fountain pen from the table and pulled off its cap, his movements stiff and clumsy with excitement.
Just then, the heavy wooden door of the conference room was swung open.
Takuya Nakayama strode into the room.
He wore a deep navy blue, custom-tailored suit today, without a tie. His collar was slightly open, and he exuded a relaxed, effortless confidence. Yet, the powerful aura of a seasoned leader instantly chilled the air in the room.
"Managing Director," the Legal Department Supervisor said, reflexively standing up to offer his seat.
Takuya Nakayama smiled and waved a hand, pulling out the chair next to Kiyoshi Hattori and sitting down.
He glanced at the neatly arranged documents on the table, his deep gaze sweeping over the Sotsu veterans seated opposite him.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, everyone. I just took an overseas call from North America, which delayed me by a few minutes," Takuya Nakayama said, leaning back in his leather chair with his hands clasped in front of him, his tone casual and unhurried. "Carmack was complaining on the phone, saying they've received so many license applications for the general-purpose engine that it's broken two of their fax machines. The enthusiasm of the North American market is truly a headache."
This comment, framed as a complaint but clearly a humblebrag, sent a jolt through Matsushima and Suzuki. Their awe and respect for the young man before them deepened even further.
"Is the contract all in order?" Takuya Nakayama's smile faded as he got straight to business.
"No problems, no problems at all!" Suzuki chimed in quickly, the flesh on his face bunching into a sycophantic grin. "The terms Sega has offered are extremely generous. We old bones are in complete agreement—no objections whatsoever."
"Good. The promises I made to you all in Atami are now written in black and white. Sotsu will keep its brand, and the original team will remain intact. Going forward, we'll be relying on your vast experience for Sega Galaxy's IP operations. Let's grow this venture together; there's no limit to the money we can make." Takuya picked up another pen from the table, twirling it between his long fingers.
The legal staff respectfully pushed the two final agreements in front of Takuya and Matsushima.
Matsushima took a deep breath, suppressing the wild joy in his heart. He gripped the fountain pen and solemnly signed his name, then stamped it with the bright red seal of Sotsu's legal representative.
With this final stroke, Sotsu officially changed hands, boarding the invincible battleship that was Sega.
Takuya signed his name in a few swift strokes and pushed the document back.
The documents were exchanged, and the deal was sealed.
"To a successful partnership," Takuya Nakayama said, rising and extending his hand across the wide conference table.
Matsushima shot to his feet, grasping Nakayama's hand with both of his and shaking it vigorously, his posture deeply deferential.
"To a successful partnership, Executive Director Nakayama! From now on, all of Sotsu will follow Sega's lead without question!"
The conference room erupted in enthusiastic applause.
Kiyoshi Hattori watched the scene with a faint, satisfied smile. Beside him, Honda from Daiwa Securities let out a long sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his brow. The massive commission from this monumental deal was finally secure.
Nakayama withdrew his hand and calmly smoothed the hem of his suit jacket.
"I've booked a table at a ryotei in Ginza for tonight. Let's all go for a drink to celebrate." He looked at Matsushima, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. "I've also invited President Yamaura of Sunrise. Since we'll all be fighting in the same trenches under Sega's banner now, tonight's the perfect time to discuss the next Gundam project. As for the mess Bandai has made of things, we can leave them to sort out their own internal chaos for now."
Matsushima and Suzuki exchanged a knowing glance and nodded repeatedly. Their eyes held both boundless hope for the future and a touch of schadenfreude over Bandai's miserable fate.
Following the right person really is more important than anything else.
Bandai Headquarters, Third Floor, Finance Department.
The central air conditioning was blasted to its maximum setting, yet the dull, mechanical roar of the vents couldn't dispel the suffocating tension in the office.
The vast workspace was silent, save for the frantic clatter of keyboards and the rustle of turning pages. No one dared to speak.
A dozen top-tier auditors, all in crisp white shirts and dark ties, had completely taken over the largest conference room. The massive table was buried under mountains of ledgers and voucher folders.
The joint team from McKinsey and PricewaterhouseCoopers operated like a cold, ruthless, and high-speed precision machine. Their sharp eyes missed not a single decimal point, ruthlessly dragging Bandai's hidden bad debts and dead accounts from the shadows and exposing them to the harsh, unforgiving light.
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