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Chapter 126: PC Engine Launch
🕑 Added 2025-10-10 10:44:04 +0000 UTCOn October 30, the PC Engine, a joint venture by Hudson and NEC, hit the market after two weeks of intense promotion. Despite launching with only two games—Sunsoft’s *Shanghai* and Toei Animation’s *Sengoku Mahjong*—and a bold price tag of 24,800 yen, the console made waves.
Fueled by *Sengoku Mahjong*’s potent IP tie-in, the PC Engine’s first-week sales figures swept the industry like a storm.
Five hundred thousand units.
The number landed heavily on Sega’s boardroom table.
Fresh from the electrifying demo of their new console’s launch lineup, the directors’ excitement and confidence were still warm. But this sudden report slammed the brakes, injecting a bitter edge into the air.
“Five hundred thousand units,” a director muttered, voice tinged with reluctance. “With just two games.”
“*Sengoku Mahjong*’s pull is undeniable,” another said, analyzing, “but our games hold up. *Pokémon Park: Adventure* alone matches their appeal.” His tone betrayed frustration at being outpaced.
President Hayao Nakayama sat stone-faced, fingers tapping rhythmically on the cool tabletop, the faint *tap-tap* breaking the brief silence.
“Thankfully,” Director Hatano exhaled, easing the gloom, “we have Executive Nakayama’s foresight—a true 16-bit console in the works. Without it, we’d be watching Hudson and NEC eat the whole pie.”
His words softened the room’s tension.
Indeed, they had Takuya Nakayama and a console poised to outshine the PC Engine.
Director Terai took the floor, voice steady. “The PC Engine’s momentum is fierce, but it’s not flawless.”
“Its display chip outstrips the Famicom’s, giving them confidence to tout ‘next-gen.’ But its core CPU remains 8-bit.”
“At 24,800 yen, NEC and Hudson are banking hefty margins, easing pressure from console royalty systems compared to what we’ll face. But that steep price will slow user growth. More critically, their thin game lineup risks fading once *Sengoku Mahjong*’s hype cools. Without new titles, sales may stall, and third parties will hesitate.”
Terai’s analysis was a shot of adrenaline, prompting nods across the room.
“Terai’s right,” a director chimed in. “This underscores our strategy: win with a steady stream of top-tier games to attract third-party developers.”
“The PC Engine’s brief shine lights our path,” another added.
Directors once daunted by the million-chip order now felt it might be too modest.
“Maybe two million chips to meet initial demand?” one whispered, eyes gleaming with renewed faith in their console.
Amid this dissection of the PC Engine and swelling confidence, a director overseeing branding spoke up. “President, colleagues, our new console’s preparations are nearly complete. Isn’t it time we gave it a bold, official name?”
The question sparked the room like a drop in hot oil.
“Exactly! We can’t keep calling it ‘new console’!”
“A great name saves marketing costs!”
The board buzzed with lively debate.
“How about ‘Super Sega System’?” an older director suggested, nostalgic for the SG-1000’s legacy.
“Too small,” a younger one countered. “We need to flaunt 16-bit power. ‘Sega Advanced Entertainment’—it screams cutting-edge fun.”
A bold voice offered, “*Sega Universe*! It signals a new gaming cosmos!”
Names, from conservative to grandiose, flew across the table.
Hayao Nakayama listened silently, his deep gaze scanning each speaker, brow subtly furrowed. None quite struck the right chord.
As the chatter subsided, all eyes turned to Takuya Nakayama, the young executive known for game-changing answers.
Meeting their gaze, Takuya’s lips curved confidently. He cleared his throat, voice clear and steady. “Father, directors, I have a proposal for the console’s name.”
The room leaned in.
Takuya unveiled a name destined to loom large in gaming history: “*Mega Drive*.”
He paused, letting it sink in, then explained, “*Mega* embodies ‘million,’ reflecting our console’s megabyte-level processing power and our ambition for million-plus sales.”
“It also evokes ‘immense’ and ‘grand,’ signaling a seismic shift for the gaming industry.”
Silence fell as directors savored *Mega*’s weight.
Takuya continued, “*Drive* signifies ‘propulsion’ and ‘energy.’ It’s the core force pushing future gaming experiences, capturing the exhilarating rush players will feel.”
“*Mega Drive* is sleek, tech-savvy, and punchy. Its pronunciation avoids linguistic pitfalls, perfect for global marketing.”
Hayao Nakayama mouthed *Mega Drive*, a spark of excitement flashing in his eyes.
Others tested it aloud.
“*Mega Drive*… bold!”
“Million-driven—powerful!”
“And as Takuya said, it’s smooth in English, no awkward sounds.”
After brief discussion, the name won near-universal acclaim.
Hayao Nakayama scanned the room, seeing rekindled fervor in his colleagues’ eyes. He nodded decisively. “It’s settled. Our new console is the *Mega Drive*!”
“In Japanese, officially *メガドライブ* (Mega Doraibu)!”
Thus, the 16-bit console, carrying Sega’s revival hopes and poised to battle Nintendo for years, was christened *Mega Drive*.
