Sunday 2 November 1999 Disney Household.
Zaboru arrived in the USA that Saturday, and not long after, Walt Disney invited him to his house. Zaboru accepted and went without hesitation.
In his heart, Zaboru already thought of Walt Disney like a grandfather. Walt had always been kind to him, genuinely caring in a way that felt rare, and the Disney family was just as warm.
They shared lunch together, talking easily like they had known each other for years. After the meal, Walt asked Zaboru to join him in his study for a private conversation.
Walt smiled. "Hehehe, Zaboy… you really shook the world to the core, huh? Saying that ZAGE Digital World is coming." He leaned back in his chair, eyes bright despite the wrinkles at the corners. "Honestly, it makes my old bones excited too."
Zaboru smiled back, warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with business. "Thank you, Mr. Disney. I really hope you can live twenty more years, so you can see the future I'm hoping for."
Walt burst into laughter, loud and genuine. "HAHAHAHA! Twenty more years? That's rich coming from you." He waved a hand, still smiling. "I don't think I'm going to make it that far. But even if I only live until tomorrow, I'll still be grateful. Zaboy."
His laughter faded into a softer sound, and Walt's gaze drifted for a moment toward the window, as if he could see time itself moving outside the glass. He sighed and smiled bitterly. "Maybe if I died without meeting you, it wouldn't be so hard to die. But now…" He tapped the armrest lightly, as if keeping his thoughts from running away. "Now I'm this old, and you keep showing me new doors. Endless ideas for movies, for stories, for worlds. You make me want to live longer just to watch it all happen."
Zaboru's smile thinned, not from discomfort, but from respect. He had seen too many old people hide their fear behind jokes.
Walt chuckled again, trying to pull the mood back up. "You know what's funny? People look at me and think I'm fragile." He pointed at his own chest as if daring fate. "But I still feel strong. I was born in 1911. I'm almost ninety now, but my body still acts like I'm sixty-five."
He leaned forward, voice quieter, more personal. "That's why it's so irritating. My mind is still hungry. My heart is still hungry. But the clock doesn't care."
Walt's eyes returned to Zaboru, sharp and affectionate at the same time. "So when you show something like Digital World, it doesn't just excite the audience. It excites me." He smiled with a hint of stubborn pride. "Because it reminds me of my own youth. When I used to believe that imagination could beat the limits of reality."
He sighed again, softer this time, almost like a confession. "And you, Zaboy… you make me believe it again and again."
Zaboru smiled, trying to keep the mood light. "Mr. Disney, you're still healthy. Why are you thinking about depressing stuff like that?"
Walt laughed, a short burst that sounded warm but didn't fully hide the tiredness behind it. "I'm healthy, boy. I know." He held up a hand, as if stopping Zaboru from arguing. "But honestly… I don't think I'm going to pass the one-hundred-year mark. I don't know how to explain it. I just know."
He leaned back and looked at the ceiling for a moment, as if counting invisible years. "I can still go on for a couple more. Maybe more if I'm lucky." His eyes returned to Zaboru, sharper now. "But luck is not something you schedule, and time doesn't listen when you bargain with it."
Zaboru's smile softened. He wanted to protest, to tell Walt not to talk like that, but the seriousness in the old man's face pressed the words back down his throat.
Walt's voice lowered. "That's why I'm saying it now. Not to scare you. Not to make you sad." He tapped the armrest with two fingers, slow and measured. "Because there's something I need to tell you while I still can. Something you need to hear from me directly."
Zaboru frowned, the shift hitting him like a cold draft. The air in the study felt heavier, as if the room itself understood the change.
"Yes?" Zaboru asked, quietly.
Walt didn't answer immediately. He studied Zaboru for a long second, like he was choosing the exact words that would land without breaking him.
Then he exhaled.
"It's getting serious, Zaboy," he said.
Walt sighed and finally let the mask drop. "You'll see… I'm not trying to brag," he said, voice low, "but in this country I'm considered one of the elite business men. And my wealth isn't only Disney. I have shares in other companies too. I have connections in places most people never hear about."
He stared at the fireplace for a second, as if choosing how honest to be. "But that's not the point."
Walt looked back at Zaboru. "The point is, I recently had meetings with an elite circle here in the United States. Rooms full of CEOs, major owners, politicians, and the kind of people who speak softly because they're used to being obeyed."
His mouth tightened. "And they're afraid of ZAGE."
Zaboru frowned, the words landing heavier than he expected.
Walt continued, slower now. "They watched your Digital World showcase. They saw Steam. They saw fiber. They saw how you're building an ecosystem. Not a product. An ecosystem."
He tapped the armrest once. "They don't fear your games. They fear what your games lead to. They fear you becoming the center point. They fear a future where they have to ask you for access, instead of you asking them for permission."
Walt leaned forward, eyes sharp. "Most likely they haven't acted yet because I'm still alive. They know I favor ZAGE above almost anything right now. They know I'll push back if they start spreading ugly rumors or fabricating stories."
He paused, then added, even quieter, "And yes, they would do that. That's how some of them fight. Not with truth—with noise. And you've probably noticed it already, right? Those so-called 'experts' attacking your games, trying to shift public opinion. The outlets saying fairer things?" Walt's eyes narrowed. "Some of them are allies. Some are simply tired of lies. Either way, they're the reason the room hasn't turned fully against you yet."
Walt exhaled. "They're afraid ZAGE will become too big. Too important. Too untouchable."
He studied Zaboru's face as if making sure he understood. "And another thing. They've noticed you don't want to join their circle, Zaboy."
Walt's smile was faint, almost sad. "To them, that's not only stubborn. It's suspicious. In their world, everyone joins eventually. Everyone owes someone. Everyone takes a seat at the table and accepts the rules."
His voice hardened. "When you refuse, they don't see it as dignity. They see it as a threat."
Zaboru nodded. "Yes. I don't really want to join that stuff. It doesn't fit my style, and I hate it."
Walt chuckled, but the sound didn't carry any real humor. "That's exactly why I'm worried for you." He leaned forward, elbows on his desk. "Zaboy, you'll see… I won't be around forever. And when I'm gone, my protection around ZAGE goes with me."
Zaboru's expression tightened.
Walt lifted a finger, firm. "Don't underestimate connections. Don't underestimate human greed." His eyes narrowed. "That elite circle is greedy enough to do anything. Some of them would trade their souls to the devil if it filled their pockets."
He let the words sit for a beat, then continued, calmer but sharper. "That's why connections are important. Not the kind that asks favors in smoke-filled rooms. The kind that stands up when lies start spreading. The kind that can protect you from being boxed into a corner before you even realize it."
Walt looked directly at Zaboru. "Worst case, they'll push this to the government. They'll accuse ZAGE of monopoly. They'll say you're too big, too powerful, too dangerous to the market."
He tapped the desk once. "Then they'll try to force you into selling shares. Going public. Losing control."
Zaboru nodded slowly, jaw tight. "I never want that."
Walt nodded, understanding. "I know. That's why you have to plan like it's already coming."
He took a slow breath and spoke like a man giving a final lesson. "Keep your ownership clean. Keep your deals documented. Treat partners fairly, so you don't create enemies for free. And most of all—build allies that just don't depend on you but you can depend on them"
Walt's voice softened, but his warning stayed hard. "Because when you're powerful, Zaboy, people stop asking what you meant. They start asking what they can get from you. And if they can't get it…" He tilted his head slightly. "They try to take it."
"And don't trust Bill Gates," Walt said, the name leaving his mouth like a warning label. "Never trust him. And don't trust Apple either."
He didn't shout it. He didn't dramatize it. That was what made it feel dangerous—like he'd learned it the hard way.
"People like that don't always attack with fists," Walt continued. "They attack with smiles. With invitations. With deals that sound fair until you realize you signed away your freedom."
Zaboru's eyes widened. He nodded once, slowly, taking the words in without interrupting.
Walt lifted a hand and pointed, counting off the next part of the problem like a checklist. "Right now you have NVIDIA and AMD in your grasp. Those aren't small pieces on the board, Zaboy. Those are pillars. If you keep them steady, they can become your strength."
He leaned in. "But that's exactly why you have to be careful. When you hold pillars, people don't just want to compete with you. They want to pry your hands off them. They'll try to pull your allies away with money, pride, fear, or promises."
Walt's voice lowered. "Sometimes betrayal doesn't look like a knife. Sometimes it looks like a resignation letter, a sudden new partnership, a board member smiling too politely, a friend who starts taking calls in private."
Zaboru swallowed and nodded again, a tight sound in his throat. He could feel the weight of what Walt was saying settling into his ribs.
Walt reached out and patted Zaboru's shoulder, firm and steady. "You're a good kid," he said. "You've got a pure heart and infinite passion. I know it when I see it."
His expression softened, but his eyes stayed sharp. "And the way I see it, you're extremely lucky. You have good people around you. You have protection from friends who actually care." He gave a small, tired smile. "And yes, not to brag, but you've got my interest too. That means you've got my protection."
Walt's fingers squeezed once, like he was passing something heavy from his hand into Zaboru's. "I even let you buy fifty percent of Disney shares for a change, didn't I? Because I trusted you. Because I wanted you to have a shield."
Then the warmth drained from his smile, replaced by something older and harder.
"But one day," Walt said, "there will be a time you need to be cruel, Zabo. Not evil. Not greedy. Cruel in the way a surgeon has to be cruel—clean cuts, no hesitation, no pity when pity becomes a weakness."
He held Zaboru's gaze. "You're already the face of the entertainment industry now. People are watching you like you're a lighthouse. And when a lighthouse shines too bright…" Walt exhaled. "Ships don't only follow it. Some of them try to tear it down."
Zaboru nodded. "I will, Mr. Disney. I'll be careful."
He meant it.
Zaboru didn't underestimate Walt's advice, not for a second. Walt wasn't speaking from paranoia. He was speaking from experience—the kind of experience that only came from living long enough to watch people smile in public and sharpen knives in private.
And now that "ZAGE Digital World" was moving, Zaboru could feel the truth of it in his bones. ZAGE wasn't just getting bigger. It was becoming structural—a platform, a pipeline, a habit people would build their entertainment around. That kind of power attracted applause… and predators.
Zaboru stared at the edge of Walt's desk, seeing the reflection of the lamp glow on polished wood. Part of him still wanted a simple life. To be himself. To build good games, play good games, laugh with his team, and stay kind to the people who loved what he made.
But kindness didn't stop greed.
Even in this world—where the government felt less corrupt, where people were generally kinder—corruption and ambition still existed. They just wore cleaner clothes. They spoke with softer voices. They learned to hide behind "concern," behind "regulation," behind "fair competition," while aiming for the same old prize: control.
Zaboru exhaled slowly. He couldn't afford to be naive.
He needed to prepare for the future, the way Walt prepared for it—by building support that didn't vanish with one man's absence.
He would talk with Akechi. About protection—legal, political, and social. Documentation. Partnerships. The kind of allies who could speak in daylight, where cameras watched.
And then there was the other side of the world.
The Giordano connection.
Zaboru didn't like thinking about it, but he couldn't pretend it didn't matter. Some battles weren't fought on stages or in newspapers. Some battles happened quietly, in shadows, where rumors were planted and deals were made before anyone even knew there was a war. Because Akechi hamazou has almost have no power in the US , unlike in Japan.
If the worst case came, he needed allies who could protect him in the light… and allies who could protect him in the dark.
Zaboru lifted his gaze back to Walt, his expression steadier now. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I hear you. I won't ignore it."
Zaboru spent the rest of the afternoon at the Disney household, letting the heavy conversation settle into something quieter and more human. By evening, he returned to the ZAGE campus—still carrying Walt's warning in his chest, but trying not to let it steal his joy. Sonaya's recent release, Sun Knight 5: The Black Sun, had been waiting for him, and he was genuinely excited to finally play it.
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