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Chapter 114: Hidden Concerns About Costs
🕑 Added 2025-10-06 11:27:10 +0000 UTCWhen Hideo Kojima followed Takuya into Sega’s heavily guarded hardware development department, he was instantly captivated by the scene. The air carried a unique blend of solder fumes, circuit boards, and coffee, laced with an electric tension and excitement. Technicians swarmed around several oddly shaped machines, screens flickering with complex data and graphics, punctuated by keyboard clacks and murmured discussions.
“This is—” Kojima’s eyes locked onto a machine running a demo program. On the screen, a vibrant, intricately detailed warrior—far more complex than any 8-bit sprite he’d seen—sprinted, leaped, and swung a sword with fluid grace. The background was a multi-layered parallax forest, leaves rustling in depth, distant mountains hazy in mist. The visuals’ fidelity dwarfed anything on MSX2 or Famicom, opening a new creative dimension before him.
“This is our next-generation home console, under secret development,” Takuya said, pride evident. “A 16-bit Motorola MC68000 CPU, a Z80 for sound, enhanced graphics processing, a 512-color palette, and memory far exceeding current systems.”
A bespectacled technician operated it deftly, switching demos: smooth multi-layer scrolling, simulated 3D rotations and scaling, handling dozens of active objects seamlessly. A massive boss filled half the screen, bullets raining down; the protagonist dodged nimbly, the frame rate unflinching.
Kojima stared, mouth agape, stepping closer as if to touch the cool screen. This power—it was overwhelming!
In his mind, ideas shelved or compromised on MSX2’s limits surged back, a torrent unleashed.
All that Konami and the Nintendo liaison had crushed now broke free. Kojima’s eyes reignited with fiery passion—a hunger for the unknown, the pinnacle of creation. He nearly forgot Metal Gear’s shelving; his soul was consumed by these possibilities.
“What do you think, Kojima-san?” Takuya watched Kojima’s uncontainable thrill and fervor, chuckling inwardly. For a creator who prized their work above all, hard proof was key. “With this, many of your ideas suddenly seem feasible, right?”
Kojima whipped around, eyes wide with disbelief and ravenous eagerness. “Takuya-kun, this machine—can it truly deliver those demo effects?”
“Only better,” Takuya said, patting the prototype’s shell. “This is an early build—software optimization and hardware tweaks have vast room. With your talent, Kojima-san, you’ll create something truly legendary here.”
Kojima’s breath quickened, lips dry as visions of wild game concepts materialized on this beast. He licked his lips. “Can I—start brainstorming platform-specific games right now?”
“Of course,” Takuya laughed. “That’s why I brought you. Kojima-san!”
He briefly outlined the console’s confirmed features and Sega’s preliminary game dev visions, then cleared it with the team leads.
With that, he “abandoned” Kojima in this den of creation.
“Feel free to roam, chat with our techs,” Takuya said.
“Soak it in, ponder what this new console unlocks for your creativity.”
“I won’t disturb you.”
With a quiet exit, Takuya left Kojima like a wide-eyed kid in a candy store, devouring every scrap of info on the 16-bit marvel.
Having settled Kojima, Takuya hurried to the hardware division’s core conference room without pause.
The console’s power ignited creators’ passions, but cold cost figures determined its market fate.
The hardware head reported gravely on the latest.
“Executive Director, after our team’s optimizations across modules, the projected per-unit production cost for the new console is around 26,000 yen.”
Takuya’s brow twitched faintly at the number.
26,000 yen.
In his mind, it flashed against past-life benchmarks.
The Mega Drive launched October 29, 1988, with aggressive pricing to outshine Nintendo’s Famicom in value.
Now, nearly a year early, this cost—though well-controlled—was still high for consumers.
It meant that basing final pricing on this would undercut the new console’s competitiveness.
Especially against Nintendo’s 4-year-old Famicom with its massive user base—price was a key lever to tip the scales. The Famicom hadn’t dropped prices yet, its costs long below launch. Price wars loomed.
Though dissatisfied inwardly, Takuya knew tech iterations and component price drops needed time.
He couldn’t bully the hardware team into cost-cutting at the expense of performance, stability, or quality.
That would be shortsighted.
So, he didn’t voice strong discontent, pondering briefly.
“26,000 yen, huh…”
His fingertips drummed the desk, eyes scanning the core tech staff.
“Get me a breakdown of the major component costs.”
The hardware head promptly handed over the prepared analysis.
Takuya pored over it, eyes darting through dense numbers and specs, brain racing for high-level breakthroughs.
