Two weeks after the movie's release, the arcade game Street Fighter was released.
At Namco, Department Manager Nakamura received the sales figures almost immediately.
"How many? Eight thousand units? That's not bad at all! For a company like Capcom, that's more than enough!"
Given Capcom's current financial situation, eight thousand arcade pre-orders were enough to save the company.
If Capcom could just hold on a little longer, they wouldn't even need Kobayashi Tetsu's help to solve their financial problems.
Department Manager Nakamura breathed a sigh of relief. The news was even better than he had hoped.
Yet, amidst his relief, he couldn't help but feel a pang of concern.
Atlas's brand image is still strong, huh? They sold eight thousand units even like this!
But he couldn't really blame Namco.
After all...
The currency war has always been like this!
Hong Kong.
Across Asia, Street Fighter arcade cabinets were released simultaneously. Hong Kong received the game immediately.
Jackie Chan even bought ten units to recommend to everyone.
In a dark, narrow alley in Tsim Sha Tsui, a young man in a white shirt and baggy shorts lounged casually in his shop.
He went by the name "Brother MK," and this was his place. The shop primarily dealt in slot machines, pinball machines, and pachinko machines—
In other words, nothing that didn't cost money.
Though it was called an arcade, there were hardly any proper arcade cabinets inside.
On the surface, the shop sold various CDs and floppy disks, but inside, it held a hidden world.
Not long after the door opened, two regulars came in, arm in arm, and greeted the others.
"Morning, Brother MK."
"Morning."
They exchanged a stack of bills for a handful of game coins and disappeared behind the beaded curtain.
"Bringing a young girl to the arcade so early in the morning? Must have just come out."
Brother MK muttered to himself and was about to light a cigarette when the two men suddenly reappeared behind him, startling him.
"Damn it! What was that? You'll give me a heart attack!"
"Brother MK, why don't you have Street Fighter here?"
"What Street Fighter? I'm the Street Fighter of Tsim Sha Tsui! You didn't know?"
"You don't know Street Fighter? That Jackie Chan movie! The fighting was so intense!"
As the two men ambled off arm in arm, Brother MK scratched his head.
He really didn't know.
He wasn't much of a movie buff, and spending all day in the arcade left him little opportunity to see films.
"Street Fighter...?" Brother MK pondered. I'll have to ask around about this!
Though the place seemed filled with slot machines, there were a few proper arcade games scattered around, just not many people playing them.
That evening, Brother MK closed his shop early and rushed to the nearest rural cinema to catch a movie.
The theater was fairly crowded, as expected for a Jackie Chan film that had just been released. Many people, like Brother MK, hadn't seen it yet.
The movie opened with a bold title:
[ Police Story 2: Street Fighter ]
"Damn, that's aggressive!" Brother MK rubbed his eyes and focused intently.
The film followed Jackie Chan's usual style: fluid fight scenes, witty plot, and plenty of shots of famous landmarks.
By the end, the kidnapper's words struck Brother MK like a lightning bolt:
"A single Sonic game sold millions in the US! This Street Fighter game is guaranteed to be a hit! It'll make hundreds of millions of dollars—faster than robbing a bank!"
"Why rob a bank when you can rob Atlas?"
Brother MK gasped, taking a long drag from his sugarcane.
Scary!
Could this thing really sell hundreds of millions of dollars?
His instinct screamed no, but Jackie Chan was in the movie, playing the game himself. And at the end, Jackie enthusiastically recommended it, calling it "absolutely addictive."
"It's all lies! If this piece of junk can make hundreds of millions, why am I sweating over these slot machines? I should just open a Street Fighter arcade instead!"
Brother MK was somewhat convinced, but still felt an instinctive resistance.
He went home and continued to ponder the matter.
The next day, Brother MK woke up early and turned on the TV. Jackie Chan's big nose and round face filled the screen as he spoke animatedly to the camera.
Behind him, members of the Jackie Chan Stunt Team were playing Street Fighter, two of them locked in a heated match.
Brother MK, biting into a sandwich, looked somewhat distracted.
Is this Street Fighter really that fun? If even Jackie Chan plays it, he wouldn't lie to me, would he?
Seeing another customer approach, Brother MK stood up.
"Buying a disc?"
The customer wiped his sweat and asked quietly, "Brother MK, I heard you have that..."
"That what?"
"You know..."
The customer made a joystick-pushing motion.
Brother MK understood.
"Who sent you?"
"Four-Eyes, the one with the buck teeth and glasses."
"Oh, one of our own? Come on in!"
The customer had taken a few steps when he suddenly asked, "Brother MK, do you have Street Fighter here?"
Brother MK hissed.
Again?
Is this Street Fighter really that fun?! Looks like I really need to buy two machines and try them out!
After seeing the customer off, Brother MK took a long drag from his cigarette, his resolve hardening.
Though his shop was small, Brother MK ran it in constant fear. Slot machines were illegal everywhere except casinos, and he worried constantly about being caught operating them privately.
Worst of all, his small operation wasn't very profitable. The limited scale meant relying on word-of-mouth, secret codes, and a single downline, making his network resemble a spy operation more than a business.
The Yau Tsim Mong district lacked wealthy patrons; most were casual gamblers with more enthusiasm than means. Unable to offer loans, he lived in constant anxiety and made meager profits.
With his decision made, Brother MK immediately went to the video game supplier to place an order with an old friend.
"Street Fighter? Got it, man, got it! You won't believe this—it's got official Chinese text!"
Brother MK was stunned. "But it's a Japanese game! How come there's Chinese?"
"The company's Japanese, but wasn't the movie made by Jackie Chan? Didn't you see the papers?"
"What did they say?"
Brother MK, who could read a little, picked up the newspaper and was even more shocked.
A large photo of Jackie Chan dominated the page, accompanied by a sensational headline:
[ Jackie Chan Transforms into Street Fighter, Storms Atlas! Security Guard Sent Flying Five Meters! ]
When news broke that Street Fighter would be released in Hong Kong, but only in Japanese—with no Chinese or English versions—Jackie Chan flew into a rage. He stormed into Atlas, kicked a security guard five meters away, and publicly denounced the company's shameless attempt to rip off customers.
"You come to Hong Kong but don't even include Chinese? And you expect us to play your game?" he roared. "Get lost!"
Under Jackie Chan's righteous tirade, Atlas hastily added Japanese, English, and Hanzi versions to Street Fighter. The President of Atlas personally fired the temporary staff who had opposed the inclusion of Chinese, declaring Hong Kong an extremely important market they would never overlook.
At the time, few people in Asia didn't understand Hanzi. Both Malaysia and Singapore had large Chinese populations, South Korea hadn't fully abandoned Hanzi, and Indonesians spoke English quite well. With these three languages, the game would be accessible to nearly half the world.
Brother MK watched, thrilled, and slapped his thigh.
We're brothers now, so what else needs to be said?
Since there was now a Chinese version, he didn't need to worry about players not understanding. He could afford it—two arcade machines weren't too much for him.
Though the official arcade machines were expensive, there were no bootleg versions yet. The CPS1 was a new platform, and bootlegs hadn't hit the market.
If he didn't buy two machines quickly, no one would come to his place to play anymore!
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