The afterglow of the high-level meeting between Sega and Sony had not yet faded, and both parties acted swiftly and decisively, quickly forming a joint organizing committee for the "Second Electronic Sports Tournament and DDR Global City Championship."
The elite teams dispatched by Sega and Sony seamlessly integrated, immediately diving into intense negotiations over the detailed terms of their cooperation.
At the same time, the promise made by Maruyama Shigeo, President of Sony Records, was rapidly transforming into concrete action.
Inside the Sony Records building, recording studios and rehearsal rooms, which usually saw the birth of countless platinum records, were now brightly lit.
Top choreographers were assembled; they repeatedly studied the combination of every beat and movement while watching demonstration videos of the DDR prototype.
Experienced lighting teams began designing exclusive stage lighting effects for DDR, striving to maximize visual impact.
Award-winning music producers were meticulously selecting the first batch of suitable tracks for DDR from Sony's vast music library.
The female idol group that Takuya Nakayama had specifically mentioned earlier also received secret instructions from high-level executives.
Their manager, with a look of slight confusion but not daring to neglect, gathered the young girls under her management and began secret special training for DDR.
Of course, the most confused were the pokémon mascot performers directly employed by Sega, who brought their mascot costumes to Sony's laboratory to practice dancing.
Such a large-scale cross-industry collaboration involved numerous artists and production teams under Sony Music.
Coupled with the frequent comings and goings of Sega's R&D personnel, the project's confidentiality, like thin ice, quietly melted under the warm sun of early spring.
"Have you heard? Sony seems to be making a big move with Sega."
"Yeah, it seems to be some kind of dancing arcade game; they say the live effect is explosive!"
Initially, these were just whispers circulating within a very small circle in the gaming and music industries.
However, as more and more vague yet clearly indicative details leaked, this buzz gradually grew from a trickle into a surging river.
"Sony Music's ace producers have all been mobilized; it must be a top-tier project!"
"Over at Sega, I heard Takuya Nakayama is leading it again. That guy always manages to stir up something earth-shattering."
Editors from major gaming media and music magazines, like sharks sniffing blood, keenly detected this unusual stir.
Some mainstream financial media also began to pay attention to the unusually close interaction between these two giants, attempting to decipher signals about the future direction of the industry.
Journalists, as if energized, rushed around, pulling strings and finding connections, just to dig up firsthand exclusive information about this mysterious project.
Sega and Sony's public relations departments were overwhelmed with calls and emails.
Following instructions from their superiors, they neither confirmed nor denied, merely using standard diplomatic language to fend off the media's barrage.
This "controlled leak," instead, was like dropping a single drop of water into a sizzling oil pan, completely igniting the market's enthusiasm and curiosity, serving as a grand pre-heating for DDR's official debut.
Finally, an entertainment media outlet, known for its keen sense and bold approach, after receiving reliable tips, took the most direct action.
In front of the Sony Headquarters building, reporters and photographers lurked like leopards.
When the famous singer Akemi Ishii exited the building, slightly fatigued after completing an errand, they instantly surrounded her.
Flashlights suddenly flared, illuminating Akemi Ishii's slightly surprised face to a stark white.
"Ms. Ishii! May I ask if you are involved in the new project Sony and Sega are secretly developing?"
The reporter thrust the microphone almost to Akemi Ishii's mouth, the question direct and leaving no room for evasion.
Akemi Ishii, after all, was an artist accustomed to big stages. She quickly composed herself, revealing her usual professional smile.
"Ah, regarding work matters, it's not convenient to disclose anything at the moment."
Her voice was as sweet as ever, yet carried a hint of unchallengeable smoothness.
"There are rumors that your 1986 Japanese single sales champion, 'CHA-CHA-CHA,' a national dance hit, will be included in this new music dance game. Is this news true?"
The reporter was clearly prepared, directly throwing out the most explosive topic.
"CHA-CHA-CHA"!
For the Japanese public, this song was almost a melody etched into their DNA.
A subtle pause appeared in Akemi Ishii's smile, and a flicker of imperceptible fluctuation crossed her eyes.
She did not directly deny it, but skillfully sidestepped the core question.
"Hehe, everyone really pays attention to my songs."
"Regarding everything about the new project, please wait for the official announcement. I believe there will be results very soon."
She gently pushed aside the microphone in front of her and, escorted by her assistant, quickly walked towards her van.
This brief interview video, coupled with the reporter's embellished written report, spread like a virus through newspapers and television news.
Akemi Ishii's "no denial" and "trade secret" remarks were almost tantamount to an admission in the eyes of the eagerly awaiting public.
"Oh my god! 'CHA-CHA-CHA' is going to be in a game?!"
"If it's true, I definitely have to try it!"
"For 'CHA-CHA-CHA,' I'm going to learn to dance too!"
Public anticipation for this mysterious arcade dance game was completely maximized at this moment.
More ordinary people who were not very interested in games also began to turn their attention to the gaming world because of this national hit song. At the other end of the storm, in the Nintendo Headquarters conference room.
Information regarding the cooperation between Sega and Sony flooded the desks of high-level decision-makers like snowflakes.
Each report revealed an unsettling fact: this collaboration was not only unprecedented in scale, but Sony was also pouring its most core music and entertainment resources into it.
Hiroshi Yamauchi listened silently to his subordinate's report.
"On Sony's side, Maruyama Shigeo is personally leading the charge, mobilizing resources from the entire record division."
"Over at Sega, the leader is still Takuya Nakayama. This man—he's constantly full of surprises."
"Preliminary assessment indicates they are developing a revolutionary music and dance arcade game, and plan to use it as the core for a global electronic sports tournament."
The more detailed the intelligence, the heavier the hearts of Nintendo's senior executives became.
Sega's innovation capabilities in the arcade game sector already made them feel a thorn in their side.
Now, this formidable opponent had formed such deep strategic cooperation with Sony, a behemoth in consumer electronics and entertainment content.
The energy generated was far more than a simple one plus one equals two.
They seemed to already foresee that once this game succeeded, Sega's brand image would be unprecedentedly enhanced, and its R&D capabilities would also take another leap forward through this opportunity.
This would undoubtedly accumulate even greater strength for Sega's potential return to the home console market in the future.
What made it even more difficult for them was that Sony, this colossal entity, especially in an era where Akio Morita, one of the "Four Business Sages," was at the helm, its commercial influence and counter-response capabilities were by no means something Nintendo could easily shake.
Any targeted commercial obstruction actions had to be handled with extreme caution.
Acting rashly could easily backfire, even affecting Nintendo's own foundation.
They watched helplessly as their competitors formed a powerful alliance, generating immense momentum, yet found themselves in a state of powerlessness, wanting to interfere and suppress but fearing the repercussions, and even unsure where to begin.