Exactly one month after the MD's release.
The first truly significant RPG masterpiece on the Sega console, final fantasy, finally hit the shelves of major game retailers.
This was another crucial battle to rapidly increase the MD's installed base.
And the outcome of this battle was even better than everyone's most optimistic expectations.
In the first week of the game's release, thanks to Sega and Square's relentless early promotional efforts, almost all players who purchased the MD in the first batch unhesitatingly took final fantasy home with them.
The initial sales data was impressive, but still within the Marketing Department's predictions.
The real explosion occurred a week after its release.
When the first batch of players completed or deeply experienced the game, a terrifying tsunami of word-of-mouth began to sweep upward violently from the bottom of the player community.
"Are these graphics for real? The full-screen illustration at the beginning, I thought I was watching an animated movie!"
"The music is divine! Will they release a game soundtrack album? If they do, I'll buy it!"
"You can freely change jobs! My White Mage finally doesn't have to be a healer for life; later, I changed to a Red Mage, so cool and strong!"
"This is a real adventure! Flying around the world in an airship, exploring hidden caves and temples, I truly feel like a Warrior of Light!"
Players who were tired of linear narratives and fixed job modes like those in dragon quest seemed to have discovered a new continent.
They had never imagined that an RPG could have such free gameplay, such a three-dimensional world, and such an immersive cinematic narrative.
The peak of this trend was the rating in the latest issue of Fami Tong.
On the magazine cover with white background and red text, final fantasy's rating was prominently displayed.
(9 / 9 / 9 / 9)
Total score of 36 points.
Platinum Hall of Fame!
As soon as the news broke, the entire Japanese gaming industry was shaken.
final fantasy's daily average sales curve, after a week of gradual decline, unexpectedly soared again, drawing an even steeper growth line.
At Sega Headquarters, in the Sales Department's conference room, even the aroma of coffee seemed to carry the scent of victory. After the head of the Sales Department finished presenting the sales details and stepped down from the podium, Suzuki Masao, the head of the Marketing Department, immediately walked onto the podium in front of the projection screen.
He pointed to the sharply upward red curve on the screen.
"Everyone, I won't go into detail about the sales data; let's look at the specific analysis."
"With the blessing of the Fami Tong Platinum Hall of Fame, our daily average sales have surpassed the first week!"
In the conference room, those executives from the arcade department who had previously held reservations about the RPG strategy were still focused on the sales reported by the Sales Department, staring intently at the sales data, their eyes filled with disbelief.
Suzuki switched to the next slide, which showed an analysis of MD console sales.
"More importantly, here! Among recent MD console buyers, over seventy percent also purchase final fantasy!"
"This means that players are choosing to buy our console for this one game!"
"Therefore, we can conclude that in a market like Japan, where core players are extremely passionate about RPGs, an excellent RPG can effectively drive console sales."
These words were impactful, completely shattering the last shred of doubt in the conference room.
Everyone's gaze instinctively converged on the young man sitting at the head of the table, who had remained calm throughout.
Takuya Nakayama.
He gently tapped the table, and the conference room instantly fell silent.
"Very good."
His voice was not loud, but it carried undeniable power.
"Promotional Department, adjust your strategy immediately. Print the Fami Tong review, print the player's word-of-mouth, on every GG!"
He paused, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room.
"But this is just the beginning."
The projection screen changed again, showing a character design illustration full of futuristic sci-fi elements, with a vast starry sky in the background.
"phantasy star, led by Yuji Naka, is nearing the end of its development."
"We must press on, using one top-tier RPG after another, to make players realize that buying an MD to play RPGs is the natural choice."
At the same time, in Square's office, it was a completely different scene.
Here, the solemnity of meetings was replaced by joyous chaos.
In stark contrast to the dire situation half a year ago when they couldn't pay salaries, the office was now filled with the ringing of telephones, the whirring of fax machines, and the excited chatter of employees.
Piles of thank-you letters from players, like snowflakes, almost covered an entire table.
Producer Hironobu Sakaguchi carefully opened a letter, on which a child had drawn four Warriors of Light with naive handwriting.
The letter read: "Thank you, Mr. Sakaguchi, this is the best game I've ever played."
Hironobu Sakaguchi's eyes welled up slightly.
The despair of going all-in and betting everything, at this moment, transformed into the purest sense of accomplishment.
"Sakaguchi!"
President Miyamoto Masashi excitedly rushed over and patted his shoulder vigorously.
"The cartridge factory just called back! The first batch of urgent replenishment will be out of the factory the day after tomorrow!"
His smile was as bright as a blooming sunflower.
"We don't have to wait months, like before, for a few tens of thousands of cartridge orders, looking at Nintendo's face!"
"Sega's policy is truly fantastic! We can decide the production quantity ourselves and meet market demand immediately!"
These words made the surrounding developers cheer.
Under Nintendo's draconian terms, they had long been fed up with the predicament of being held by the throat.
And now, they finally experienced what "autonomy" meant.
Miyamoto Masashi gestured for everyone to quiet down, then leaned into Sakaguchi's ear and said in a tone that was both encouraging and suggestive:
"The board of directors is very satisfied with this achievement."
"They hope we can start the final fantasy 1 project as soon as possible."
The smile on Hironobu Sakaguchi's face, upon hearing this, subtly stiffened for a moment.
He glanced at the well-worn Fami Tong on the table, looking at the four big words "Platinum Hall of Fame," and then at the excitement beaming on his colleagues' faces.
Amidst the immense joy, an unprecedented pressure, like a tide, quietly surged into his heart.
The freedom and innovation of the previous work had already been hailed as a benchmark.
How could the sequel surpass it?
Outside a game retail store in Akihabara.
A huge promotional poster for final fantasy was displayed in the most prominent position, with the Crystal Tower shimmering in the setting sun.
But beneath the poster, the shelves were empty.
A handwritten sign hung there, the writing scrawled but conspicuous: "final fantasy is sold out! This store accepts pre-orders, next shipment expected in three days!"
This situation of "one cartridge hard to find" not only failed to dampen players' enthusiasm but, like a catalyst, kept the buzz around the game continuously fermenting.
This phenomenon, dubbed the "FF Whirlwind," naturally also swept into the competitor's camp.
Kyoto, Nintendo Headquarters.
A detailed report on final fantasy's market performance lay quietly on Genyo Takeda's desk.
The report contained not only astonishing sales data and the glaring 36 points from Fami Tong, but also a crucial piece of information specially highlighted.
"After the first batch sold out, Square is expected to restock the market within three days."
Three days?
This number sounded an alarm for him.
As the person responsible for overseeing production, he was very clear that within Nintendo's cartridge production and sales system, it would take at least half a month for a cartridge to go from additional order to scheduled production and shipment.
This was determined by Nintendo's royalty system, a scepter used to control all third-party developers, which had now become a lever for Sega to pry at his throne.
What made him even more uneasy was a rumor that had just arrived from Tokyo.
It was said that several established RPG developers, who had previously only developed games for the FC, had privately contacted Sega.
They were inquiring about the details of the MD development kit.
This rumor, both true and false, was like a stone thrown into a calm lake, stirring unpredictable ripples within Nintendo's third-party ranks.
A storm was brewing.
And at the center of this storm, a ten-thousand-word article written by a veteran game critic was published in a mainstream gaming magazine.
The article deeply analyzed the success of final fantasy.
"—It overturned our understanding of RPGs. 'Job liberalization' gave players unprecedented cultivation fun; 'Exploration dimensionalization' made the world no longer a flat map; and 'Cinematic narration' elevated the storytelling power of video games to a whole new level—"
"When the epic soundtrack created by Mr. Nobuo Uematsu played, we knew that a new era belonging to fantasy had arrived."
This article was hailed as a classic by countless players, offering the final coronation to final fantasy's status as a "masterpiece."