The faint bitterness of instant coffee hung in the air of the Meguro Ward apartment.
Takuya Nakayama was hunched over a low table, a notebook spread open before him.
On it was a circle divided into five equal segments, and within each segment, the names "contra," "Snow Bros.," "street fighter," "River City Ransom," and "Shadow of the Ninja" were written.
A pencil lay flat in the center of the circle, and he reached out to spin it.
"Ring, ring, ring—!"
The harsh telephone ring suddenly shattered the room's quiet, like a needle bursting a bubble of concentration.
Takuya Nakayama frowned, somewhat helplessly withdrawing his hand, and picked up the cream-colored phone receiver beside him.
"Moshi moshi?"
"It's me, Takuya."
Ito Ryoji's voice came from the other end of the line, carrying a hint of imperceptible fatigue, but more so, an irrepressible triumph.
"Ryoji-senpai!"
Takuya Nakayama's eyes instantly lit up, and the displeasure of being interrupted vanished.
"I got you the item you wanted," Ito Ryoji said casually, as if he had only handled a trivial matter.
"Really?! Thank you so much, Senpai!"
Takuya almost jumped up from the tatami mat, his voice filled with irrepressible excitement.
"Don't get too happy too soon," Ito Ryoji chuckled on the other end.
"It took some effort; this thing wasn't easy to get. You know, things from over there…", he didn't elaborate, but Takuya understood the implication.
"Anyway, you owe me a big one, kid. Get ready to bleed some money."
"No problem! I'll definitely make Senpai satisfied!"
Takuya patted his chest, reassuring him.
"The best sushi restaurant in Ginza- order whatever you like!"
"Alright, remember that. Come to my apartment in Minato Ward after work to pick it up; you know my address."
"Okay! I'll be right there!"
After hanging up the phone, Takuya Nakayama felt his heart pounding in his chest.
He glanced at the floppy disk labeled "tetris" on his desk, his lips curving into an uncontrollable smile.
The crucial evidence was finally within his grasp.
He looked at the circle in his notebook again, picked up the pencil, and drew another circle outside of it. "Only children make choices; I want them all!"
He changed into a relatively presentable jacket and hurried out of his somewhat cluttered apartment.
In Minato Ward, Ito Ryoji's bachelor apartment was starkly different from Takuya's student-like dwelling.
It was simple, modern, spotless, with the unique tranquility and order of a high-level white-collar worker.
Ito Ryoji had already changed out of his suit into comfortable loungewear and pushed a heavy, securely taped cardboard box towards Takuya.
The box was wrapped with thick layers of transparent tape and bore no labels, making it appear quite mysterious.
"Here, this is it," Ito Ryoji patted the box.
"Authentic, a Soviet product. But whether it works, if the interface and voltage are correct, I haven't tested it, you'll have to figure that out yourself."
He pushed up the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, the lenses reflecting the soft indoor lighting.
"Thanks, Senpai!"
Takuya Nakayama solemnly took the heavy box.
"This meal, I'll make sure you get your money's worth!"
"Alright, take it away quickly. Seeing this thing reminds me of my excessive international long-distance phone bill. For this, I called Moscow for an hour, and then made several calls to Vladivostok."
Ito Ryoji waved his hand, complaining with a hint of playfulness.
Bidding farewell to his senpai, Takuya Nakayama hugged the box as if it were a rare treasure and drove back to his apartment in Meguro Ward.
Closing the door, he eagerly placed the box on the tatami mat and cut open the packing tape with a small knife.
Inside, a rather rugged, beige-gray machine was revealed, its edges indicating a harsh industrial design, clearly Soviet.
The machine body was stamped with a string of Cyrillic letters he couldn't understand at all—Electronika 60.
Beside it lay a few thin 5.25-inch floppy disks, their labels also handwritten in Cyrillic.
This was the legendary birthplace of tetris.
He carefully moved the machine to the table, immediately encountering his first problem—the power connector.
The power supply was labeled 220V50Hz. As expected, it was different from Japan's 100V50Hz.
He rummaged through the previous owner's junk box for a long time but couldn't find any matching converter.
It seemed he would have to go to that place.
He grabbed his wallet and left again, heading straight for Akihabara Electric Town.
Akihabara in the evening was brightly lit, with various electronic component and computer accessory stores lining the streets.
The buzzing of electronic devices and avant-garde electronic music intertwined.
This was a paradise for electronics enthusiasts and the best place to find strange and unusual parts.
After hitting dead ends at several large electronics stores, he finally found an old shop specializing in all kinds of used electronic scraps, tucked away in an inconspicuous alley deep within a pile of old goods.
After half an hour of communicating with the white-haired, sharp-eyed owner through words and gestures, the owner finally pulled out a transformer from the bottom of a dusty drawer that looked equally old but seemed to have a matching interface.
After having the owner connect it to power and confirm with a multimeter that the output voltage was fine, Takuya paid and hurried back to his apartment.
He carefully connected the converter to the Soviet computer and then plugged in the power.
Taking a deep breath, he pressed the stiff power switch of the Electronika 60.
The fan began to emit a low hum, the screen flickered a few times, and then lines of green Cyrillic characters began to scroll across the black background.
The startup process was slower than he had imagined.
He inserted the floppy disk with what appeared to be "tetris" written on it into the drive, thinking that since the Electronika 60 was a copy of DEC's PDP-8, the commands should be similar.
So, he entered a few simple loading instructions based on his vague memory.
The floppy drive made a "clack-clack" sound as it read the disk.
A few seconds later, the screen refreshed.
The familiar blocks began to slowly descend from the top of the screen.
The interface was extremely rudimentary: monochrome, no background, no sound effects, just the blocks themselves.
Most importantly, there were only the most basic functions: falling, rotating, and clearing lines.
There was only a single-player mode, no battle mode.
This was it!
Takuya Nakayama clenched his fists tightly, an indescribable excitement surging through him.
This was exactly the most primitive version he remembered from the descriptions of tetris's origins!
It truly existed, running right before his eyes!
This machine from the other side of the Iron Curtain, heavy and crude, had given birth to an idea that was about to sweep the globe. History was sometimes just that wonderful.
He had obtained this machine to clarify the copyright ownership of tetris to Sega.
Sega needed to acquire the license legitimately, rather than simply "borrowing" it.
This provided the most solid basis and foundation for his upcoming plan.
Looking at the clumsily falling blocks on the screen, and then thinking about the "Sega Battle Version" on his own computer, which was more feature-rich, faster-paced, and full of competitive fun.
He thought of the tangled copyright disputes of tetris in his previous life. Sorry, French people; sorry, Nintendo; this time, tetris belongs to Sega.
Takuya Nakayama's gaze became incredibly sharp and determined.
He turned off the meritorious old Soviet machine and carefully placed it back in the box.
Then, he walked to his MS-DOS computer and neatly arranged the repeatedly revised and polished "tetris (Sega Battle Version)" development plan, along with the floppy disk containing the playable demo program.
Everything was ready.
He picked up the phone receiver from the desk, his finger paused on the dial pad, then he unhesitatingly dialed Hayao Nakayama's direct office line.