"Tsk, what a shame."
Takuya shook his head and drew a line through the name "Virtual On" with his pen.
This concept would have to be reserved for the Digital Joystick, or perhaps developed into a dedicated dual-stick arcade peripheral in the future.
Though it wouldn't be used this time, it was still a solid idea.
Takuya casually added a star next to the crossed-out name and jotted down a small note: [ Consider for future projects ].
Since the high-speed, ice-skating-like combat of Cyber Troopers Virtual-On wouldn't work, he decided to take the opposite approach.
The tip of his pen hovered over the paper, a small ink dot blooming beneath it.
If speed wouldn't work, then he'd go slow.
The first thing that came to mind was the Gundam VS series.
It was undeniably great—2v2 battles, awakening skills, and a sky filled with flying bullets.
But it remained a wild celebration of the Digital Joystick, a pure digital signal logic of all speed and rhythm, with no room for subtlety.
It had to be tougher, more realistic.
The scene shifted to a smoke-filled, war-ravaged city.
Heavy footsteps, the mechanical groan of hydraulic actuators, and the shaky cockpit view.
Gundam Battle Operation.
This was the perfect stage for an analog stick.
Takuya closed his eyes, imagining the scene:
You're piloting a heavy general-purpose mecha, hiding behind a half-collapsed building.
Radar shows enemy units approaching.
If you were using a digital joystick, trying to peek out to observe, a simple push of your finger would make the mecha foolishly lurch half out of cover, instantly taking two rocket hits.
But with an analog stick, you could gently push your thumb forward just a millimeter.
The mecha's servomotors receive a faint current, and its hydraulic legs slowly rise, shifting the body only half a position outward.
Just enough to expose the sensors on its head and the muzzle of the gun on its right arm.
Lock on, fire, retract.
This was micro-manipulation.
Or take long-range sniping, for example.
Trying to aim at a distant moving target with a D-pad was practically a disaster.
The crosshair either couldn't keep up with the target's speed or would overshoot the moment it moved.
Players were forced to rely on the mystical art of "gun whipping," hoping for a lucky shot.
But an analog stick could provide smooth angular velocity.
With a gentle press of the thumb, the crosshair would smoothly glide at a slow pace, steadily locking onto the enemy aircraft.
This is the kind of game that could finally win over die-hard tech geeks like Yu Suzuki.
Combining this idea with his earlier thoughts about Cyber Troopers Virtual-On, Takuya decided to develop Gundam Battle Operation.
Takuya stared at the newly created folder on his computer, and Makoto Yamashina's conflicted face suddenly popped into his mind.
He recalled the "merger" bombshell he'd dropped at the premiere banquet, which must have rocked Bandai President Yamashina to his core.
It had been a long time since any news. He was likely caught in a tug-of-war between the company's stubborn old guard and the ruthless financial reports, struggling to make a decision.
But what if he saw this?
Takuya's fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk, creating a steady tak-tak.
This Gundam game, developed using the Model 2 platform and fully leveraging the capabilities of the analog stick, should give Bandai a run for their money.
What is Bandai's game department even doing these days? Still churning out re-skinned games for the Mega Drive and Super Famicom? If they were to show this game to Makoto Yamashina, the shock of this game's superiority would shatter the illusions of all the "in-house development purists" within Bandai.
Bandai simply doesn't have the technical prowess to replicate this game.
Once this game hits the market, players' expectations will be raised to new heights.
At that point, any subpar games Bandai releases will be mercilessly roasted by the market.
Rather than waiting to be left behind, they should hop on this bandwagon sooner rather than later.
This isn't just a game proposal; it's a final ultimatum to force change within the company.
So, Takuya Nakayama named the newly created folder "Mobile Suit Gundam: Battle Operation."
After roughly sketching out the game's basic setting and gameplay framework, Takuya shut down his computer.
Recalling the games that had flashed through his mind earlier, Takuya Nakayama let out a resigned chuckle.
It always seemed that whenever a new console generation was approaching, game developers would be pushed into overdrive.
He then made his way to Prince Hiroi's temporary office.
Today, he was scheduled to meet with Prince Hiroi to check on the progress of Sakura Wars.
As the project entered its final stages, Prince Hiroi spent less time at Sega's office and more at Madhouse. With Takuya Nakayama already overseeing the game's development progress, Prince Hiroi's visits to the game side had become infrequent.
It was rare for their schedules to align like this.
As soon as Takuya sat down, Prince Hiroi wasted no time on pleasantries.
He poured Takuya a cup of tea, then immediately began updating him on the progress of the anime and live-action stage play.
"Madhouse is really going all out this time," Prince Hiroi said, pulling a stack of production progress reports from his briefcase. "Since we're going straight to a TV series, old man Masao Maruyama is throwing everything he has at it. He's mobilized everyone he can under his command. While some outsourcing is inevitable, they're keeping a tight grip on the schedule. So far, it looks like we can ensure the project stays on track without any major hitches."
Takuya casually flipped through a few pages, noting the overwhelmingly positive completion status. He nodded in satisfaction. "With such a massive project and so much outsourced work, how are we ensuring quality control? We don't want a flood of subpar art when it's submitted."
"Who would dare?" Prince Hiroi chuckled darkly, leaning back against the sofa. "Everyone in the industry knows Sega's infamous for being a scatterbrain with money. As long as the work is top-notch, our payment efficiency is legendary—never a late payment. These outsourced studios practically worship our projects, working around the clock, terrified we'll take our golden egg-laying hen elsewhere."
He paused, then leaned forward, lowering his voice with a mischievous grin. "Besides, that Art of Fighting incident really scared the hell out of them. The example we made of that studio served as a perfect warning to the rest."
Takuya raised an eyebrow, picking up his teacup and blowing at the foam. "You mean that greedy little atelier?"
"Exactly!" Prince Hiroi clicked his tongue, a hint of schadenfreude on his face. "That reckless studio owner thought we were rich fools and took on too many projects at once. The result? The characters' faces were so distorted they were unwatchable. The production team was so furious they nearly stormed the place with machetes, and our Legal Department immediately sent a lawyer's letter demanding breach-of-contract damages."
Prince Hiroi made a cutting motion with his finger. "I heard the studio owner has since gone back to his hometown to farm. With Sega and Sunrise jointly boycotting them, who in the industry would dare give them work now? That's a bloody lesson for all. Now, every outsourced studio working for us is doing it with their neck on the line. They're terrified of falling short on quality and getting blacklisted, cutting off their livelihood."
Takuya chuckled softly and took a sip of his tea. This combination of financial incentives and severe consequences was indeed far more effective than any verbal warning. As long as the pay was generous and the rules were clear, these studios would naturally give their utmost effort.
Please Support me by becoming my patreon member and get 30+ chapters.
[email protected]/Ajal69
change @ with a
Thank You to Those who joined my Patreon