Three days later.
Nishinaka Akio once again arrived in Hong Kong.
"Mr. Lin, this contract has already been signed and stamped by our president. It is now officially in effect. I wish our two companies a pleasant cooperation!"
Nishinaka Akio handed a copy of the contract to Lin Baicheng — both sides kept a copy for their own records.
"Happy cooperation!"
Lin Baicheng shook hands with Nishinaka Akio.
After the handshake, without Lin having to say a word, Nishinaka immediately contacted Japan, instructing their finance department to transfer the exclusive agency fee of US$2.5 million along with the US$6 million down payment into the Galaxy Games account at Standard Chartered Bank.
At this time, the largest banks in Hong Kong were HSBC and Standard Chartered. Standard Chartered mainly handled international business, while HSBC was stronger in local operations.
Since Galaxy Games had overseas dealings, opening an account at Standard Chartered was naturally more suitable.
As for Chinese-owned banks, most of their branches were in Southeast Asian countries with large Chinese populations. They had no branches in Japan, Britain, or the United States. Even if Lin wanted to "support Chinese business," he couldn't.
This wasn't the computer-driven 21st century yet — transfers couldn't be done with a click. International business had to be handled manually, which took time.
"Mr. Lin," said Nishinaka Akio, "about the anti-piracy software we discussed last time — I'd like to talk about another cooperation opportunity."
"Please, Mr. Nishinaka," Lin nodded. Money knocking at the door was never something to refuse.
"Our company is developing a new arcade game," said Nishinaka. "The president has decided to use your company's anti-piracy software in it. We'll test the results first — if it works well, we'll consider further cooperation or a deeper partnership."
This time, the accompanying translator, Nomura Minami, interpreted for both sides.
"And how will we cooperate?" Lin asked. "As you know, I don't license this software for external use."
Through translation, Nishinaka replied, "We'll cooperate the same way as last time. Our company will ship the mainboards to you, your company will copy and install the anti-piracy software, and then we'll ship them back to Japan. Of course, as you said before, since this is a limited-service cooperation, the price won't be too high."
"How much per unit is your company willing to offer?" Lin nodded slightly. It was practically a no-cost deal, so he expected a low per-unit price.
"Twenty U.S. dollars," said Nishinaka, raising two fingers. "That's already quite generous. All your company needs to do is copy the software. Other than a bit of labor, there's no cost at all. As for shipping the boards to and from Hong Kong — we'll cover all freight expenses."
"That price is too low," Lin said flatly. "Mr. Nishinaka, it seems your company isn't very sincere about cooperation."
At only $20 per unit, even if the game sold 100,000 units, he'd earn just $2 million — far too little.
"$100 per unit," Lin countered. "That's fair. Without piracy, a game's sales can easily rise by 30% or more."
"That's impossible! That price is far too high — and you don't even have to invest anything!" protested Nishinaka.
The two argued back and forth over the pricing of each copy of the anti-piracy software, neither willing to yield. In the end, they settled on $70 per unit, with one additional clause:
Taito Corporation had to copy at least 50,000 units of the anti-piracy software. Regardless of whether their games sold or not, no returns were allowed.
Both parties were satisfied — the contract just needed to be drafted and signed to take effect.
Lin didn't care what Taito thought — he was delighted. After all, this was almost a zero-cost business. Labor expenses were negligible.
From this deal alone, Lin would earn at least $3.5 million. If Taito's game sold better than expected, his profits would rise accordingly.
Although Lin had planned to host a banquet for Nishinaka and his team, they had to rush back to Japan that very day. The hospitality would have to wait.
When Nishinaka's group returned to Japan, Lin also sent Yamada Hideyoshi back with them — not only to maintain contact with Taito, but also to recruit a certain individual from Nintendo.
Even if he couldn't recruit that person, he was to gather as much information as possible — Lin would personally make a move later.
Lin was clear-headed about one thing: while he could develop games and possessed knowledge of countless classics from decades in the future, he couldn't do everything alone.
The United States and Japan had the best talent in the gaming industry; Hong Kong had very few.
Therefore, Lin needed to poach top talent from other companies — especially legendary figures from his memories. Bringing such people on board would make them his trusted allies and simultaneously weaken potential rivals.
That evening, Galaxy Games' account received the $8.5 million transfer from Taito Corporation.
When his sister Lin Shufang told him the money had arrived, Lin couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. Even though he had expected it, seeing that sum in reality stirred his emotions — in two lifetimes, he had never possessed so much money.
After deducting the roughly $5 million cost of producing 10,000 arcade mainboards, the rest was pure profit.
Lin Baicheng had officially become a multi-millionaire. How could he not be thrilled?
Lin was merely thrilled; his sister Lin Shufang, however, was utterly stunned.
Just recently, a 1,000-unit order had already amazed her — and now it was ten times that size. "Astonished" didn't even begin to describe it.
Once the money arrived, Lin's first priority wasn't to celebrate — it was to expand the factory and hire more staff.
The existing site covered more than 2,000 square meters. While they could add a small new workshop there, Lin wasn't satisfied. He planned to purchase additional land nearby to build a large new plant and recruit more workers, ensuring they wouldn't face production bottlenecks in the future.
Now that Lin had the funds, neither expansion nor hiring was a problem.
Fortunately, Taito's order was for 10,000 arcade mainboards — not assembled machines — which saved a lot of time. With three months to deliver, dedicating one production line would be enough to complete the order ahead of schedule.