Nakayama Hayao cooperatively raised his hand, making a whirr sound effect.
Takuya Nakayama tossed his car keys onto the entryway cabinet and slipped into his slippers.
"This monster is taking a break today," Takuya said as he walked over and lifted Kazuki from the pile of cushions with one hand. "Ultraman Taro's energy indicator is flashing red. It needs to recharge at the dining table."
Kazuki flapped his short legs in mid-air for a moment. Recognizing his father, he obediently hugged the Ultraman toy.
"Did Daddy go to the United States to defeat the monster?"
"He did, and he even earned enough to buy some new toys." Takuya set Kazuki down and patted the back of his head. "Go wash your hands."
Kazuki, clutching the toy, scampered toward the bathroom.
Nakayama Hayao stood up, brushed the dust from his knees, and glanced at his son.
"Is everything wrapped up in the US?"
"The Nasdaq bell-ringing went smoothly, and we've checked out the venue at the Los Angeles Convention Center." Takuya bent down to stack the sofa cushions neatly. "With your energy, you could even handle setting up the booth at E3."
Nakayama Hayao snorted and turned to walk toward the dining room without responding.
The aroma of food already filled the dining room.
His mother, Nakayama Miyuki, emerged from the kitchen carrying the last two plates of grilled salmon and set them on the table.
Eri sat nearby, tying an oil-proof apron around Kazuki's waist.
"Just in time," Miyuki said, straightening the chopsticks. "Wash your hands and let's eat."
The family gathered around the table.
Takuya Nakayama took a bite of the thick omelet.
His mother's cooking had remained consistently excellent for decades.
Eri had a hearty appetite, finishing a full bowl of rice and taking two extra pickled radishes.
Work talk was minimal at the table; the conversation revolved mostly around Kazuki's "heroic deeds" of causing chaos in Setagaya.
After breakfast, Miyuki draped a jacket over Eri's shoulders.
"The weather's nice today. Go out to the garden, sunbathe, and take a walk to aid digestion."
Hearing the word "garden," Kazuki wriggled out of his apron and ran to the entrance to find his little rubber ball.
Once the three women and the child had left, the house fell quiet.
Hayao held his teacup, took a sip of hot tea, and his gaze fell on Takuya Nakayama.
"Come to my study."
The study retained the heavy, old-fashioned atmosphere of the Showa era.
Two walls were lined with solid wood bookshelves crammed with works on business management and economics.
Nakayama Hayao settled behind his desk, not looking at the papers on it, but leaning back in his chair.
Takuya Nakayama took a seat in the opposite guest chair.
"I saw the first-day trading data for Silicon Valley Online that Hoshino sent me the day before yesterday," Hayao began, his voice unhurried. "An 84% increase. Wall Street's frenzy for the Internet is even more extreme than during the Atari era."
"They're focused on the monopolistic potential of network infrastructure," Takuya replied. "Once an entry point is established, there are countless monetization channels. Silicon Valley Online is just our first step into the Internet realm. Building the online game platform later will require technical support from Sega of North America and our Japan headquarters."
Hayao nodded.
"You're playing a very big game."
The old man picked up his teacup, the lid scraping against the rim.
"Sega's game development output in recent years hasn't been as aggressive as when I was in charge. You've cut back on high-risk hardware peripheral R&D projects, focusing instead on the software ecosystem and related industries, even forming partnerships with third parties. You've done well with Square, Blizzard, Sunrise Animation, and Bandai."
He paused, setting down his teacup.
"I used to be obsessed with the idea that a company must constantly attack, cornering its rivals. Those stubborn old Kyoto fools at Nintendo—I wanted to throw all their cartridges into Tokyo Bay. But you've taken a different path."
Takuya Nakayama remained silent, listening quietly.
"You've made many friends and few enemies," Nakayama Hayao leaned back in his chair, crossing his hands over his stomach. "Sega's financial statements are now very healthy, its risk resilience more than ten times stronger than five years ago. Those two troublemakers, Hoshino and Sugiura, who nitpick everyone else at Board of Directors meetings—they haven't uttered a single word of opposition to your investment proposals."
"That's just their professional expertise. They can see the trends." Takuya Nakayama deflected the praise.
"Cut the pleasantries," Nakayama Hayao waved his hand. "What truly impresses financial people is tangible, real money. You integrated the various R&D departments, bridging the arcade and console resources. I tried that myself years ago, but the resistance was too great. You streamlined it all in just a few months."
The study was silent except for the ticking of the wall clock.
Nakayama Hayao gazed at the low table.
From that boisterous kid who got blackout drunk at his graduation party to the Executive Managing Director now masterfully managing global operations and capital, time had flown by.
"I'm sixty-three," Nakayama Hayao changed the subject.
Takuya Nakayama looked up.
"Power is a wonderful thing. It makes you forget your age." Nakayama Hayao tapped his temple. "But lately, when I review game-related reports, I find myself needing twice as long as before to understand things like 3D polygon rendering and network interaction logic."
"Your experience is Sega's foundation."
"Experience often becomes a stumbling block when technology undergoes a generational shift," Nakayama Hayao said, cutting to the chase. "I've had several private tea sessions with the old guard on the Board of Directors. When the topic of Sega's future leadership came up, I dropped a few hints."
Takuya Nakayama straightened up in his seat.
"No one objected," Hayao continued, meeting his gaze. "Even Okawa Isao, who usually spars with me on most issues, didn't explicitly oppose you taking over."
The old man had laid his cards on the table.
"I plan to spend one to two years gradually transferring all first-line business approval and personnel authority to you. You'll be the next President."
Takuya Nakayama couldn't help but sit up straighter, his hands gripping the armrests.
"Won't that be too rushed? Jupiter's overseas markets are still in the expansion phase, and Sony is making aggressive moves. A leadership change at this critical juncture could be misinterpreted by the public."
He habitually analyzed problems from a corporate operations perspective.
Nakayama Hayao slammed his hand on the table. "Misinterpreted by whom? I'm handing the company to my own son. Who can tell me what to do?"
The old man's Showa-era entrepreneur spirit flared up.
"You steer this ship better than I do. You've minimized the internal conflicts between the console and software development departments, and departmental coordination is running smoothly. If I stay on as President, I'll just be approving budgets for things I no longer understand. You can handle everything else."
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