Kobayashi Tetsu borrowed Bandai's phone, lifted his collar to muffle his voice as usual, adjusted his tone, and finally placed the call.
"I'm Kobayashi, president of Atlas Studio."
Yamashina Makoto was even more nervous than Kobayashi Tetsu, repeatedly checking the beeper's short message and then the number on the display.
Phones still required manual connection at this time—so if you called a company, there was no possibility of reaching the wrong one.
Call Sega, and it would be Sega. Call Nintendo, and you'd never end up with Sony.
In other words, the person on the other end might not be Miyamoto Shigeru, but it was certainly Nintendo.
Kobayashi Tetsu even put the call on speaker.
"President Kobayashi," a calm male voice came through. Kobayashi quickly compared it with the Miyamoto speeches he'd heard.
The tone was somewhat similar.
"I'm Miyamoto Shigeru, currently employed in Nintendo's development division. It really wasn't easy to get in touch with President Kobayashi."
Miyamoto genuinely sighed.
Even after Atlas had been around for a year, he still didn't know their address or detailed info about their president. The recruitment ads in the newspaper listed some numbers, but that was all.
One could guess the president was named Kobayashi something, but Kobayashi was a common surname—too difficult to pinpoint.
Miyamoto wasn't one for beating around the bush. Once both sides confirmed identities, he immediately stated his purpose.
"Is Atlas Studio interested in joining Nintendo? Nintendo is willing to designate Atlas as an independent development branch—first-party status. You won't need to pay third-party licensing fees."
He laid out several attractive terms.
But Kobayashi Tetsu almost laughed.
Otherwise, why would he be working with Sega?
He wasn't paying Sega any licensing fees either.
"My apologies, but Mr. Miyamoto must've heard the rumors that Atlas is essentially Sega's first-party studio. So I'm afraid that's impossible."
Miyamoto tried to persuade further, but Kobayashi simply refused.
"Nintendo is a good company, but Atlas will not go to Nintendo."
Because—
Strictly speaking, Atlas didn't belong to Sega. Even if he left for another company, Sega couldn't stop him.
He used Sega's resources only because Kentarō worked there. Sega had never helped him with development at all—not even providing devkits. Kentarō had paid two million yen out of his own pocket for the license.
On the other side, Miyamoto exhaled softly.
It seemed they wouldn't reach an agreement.
Yamauchi Hiroshi genuinely wanted him to recruit Atlas, but since they weren't allowed to "eliminate" people, this was the limit.
Threats were impossible. Miyamoto wasn't the kind to do such things anyway.
Suddenly, Kobayashi spoke:
"Why doesn't Mr. Miyamoto join Atlas instead? You can even take my position as president. If you join Atlas, then I'll join Nintendo."
Miyamoto almost laughed aloud.
Atlas was impressive, but not enough to make him leave Nintendo.
Kobayashi continued:
"Soon, Atlas Studio will release a new work. I'm sure you've also overseen some releases yourself. Why don't we make it a bet based on sales?"
Miyamoto replied, "That's interesting, but President Kobayashi, I won't join Atlas just because of a bet. And you wouldn't join Nintendo just because you lost a bet, right?"
Kobayashi smiled.
"Of course not. I mean, if I win, Mr. Miyamoto provides Atlas with a detailed game plan. If I lose, Atlas provides Nintendo with a detailed game plan. It's an informal, secret agreement. Even if someone denies it later, it doesn't matter. Who knows? If we enjoy the negotiation, maybe Atlas really will join Nintendo."
On the other end, Miyamoto snorted.
It was oddly like being outmaneuvered.
Still, Kobayashi's proposal was tempting.
Atlas had never failed in a release before, and for some reason, their style seemed oddly compatible with Nintendo's philosophy.
From another perspective, Miyamoto thought that Kobayashi was at least a negotiable person, and there might really be a chance of joining Nintendo someday.
"Then," Miyamoto took a deep breath, "tell me about your bet."
Kobayashi explained simply:
"Let's bet on first-month sales. Let's see which side sells more. Atlas's work will release in August. By then, I'll be waiting for your release."
After hanging up, Kobayashi shook his head slightly.
An ordinary developer would have immediately accepted Miyamoto's invitation to Nintendo, but since he had already chosen his stance, there was no way he would switch sides.
He looked at Yamashina again, who now nodded firmly, as if he had made up his mind.
"Kobayashi, I suddenly feel your idea is worth considering."
"Because of Miyamoto?"
"No, because you refused Miyamoto," Yamashina said. "Nintendo offered very favorable terms, yet you still chose to decline. That shows you have absolute confidence in your work. If you have that confidence, surely I can deliver too. Don't forget, Bandai is a company with a long history!"
Yamashina spread his hands.
Bandai could handle toys on commission, but other matters still required Kobayashi's negotiation.
The Daicon Film technical staff were notoriously difficult to deal with.
"So, that counts as settled?"
Kobayashi breathed a small sigh of relief.
He had thought persuading Yamashina would be difficult, but this was an unexpected delight.
---
Daicon Film Studio
Kobayashi Tetsu chose to visit while Hideaki Anno was present.
Anno wasn't technically a Daicon Film employee—his main work was as an art director under Hayao Miyazaki.
The last time he helped with the Yamaga animation, he only assisted with some visual effects; he didn't supervise it personally.
President Okada Toshio and the team welcomed Kobayashi warmly.
"Kobayashi, please sit!"
"Kobayashi, have some tea."
"Kobayashi, is this another commission—"
Voices overlapped eagerly.
Kobayashi sipped the tea.
This time it was proper tea leaves, not powdered tea, but he couldn't tell the quality.
Seeing the eager animators, he couldn't help but reflect.
Money really does motivate people!
The previous collaboration had earned Daicon Film tens of millions of yen. Of course, that wasn't pure profit—they had production costs—but it was a rare big win in years.
Now, sitting here, Kobayashi felt like the Japanese god of fortune, Ebisu.
"I've brought a commission from Bandai."
Everyone nodded.
"It's a story about non-human characters—"
Kobayashi briefly explained the concept of Sonic.
For a moment, Okada and the others looked troubled.
"This sounds boring! No depth at all!"
Kobayashi felt a headache coming on.
Commercial works didn't need that much depth!
"I guess it's time to go all out."
He took a deep breath.
"Actually, I have an idea. Once Daicon Film finishes this project, I plan to license this script to you. You can handle the production however you like."
Kobayashi wouldn't spend any money himself.
He casually recounted the story of Royal Space Force, about an ordinary guy growing into a man capable of standing on his own.
Anno, who had been slacking, immediately perked up.
"This is great! We should do this!"
The previously dejected animators were now instantly excited.
Kobayashi raised both hands, making a gesture for silence.
"Everyone, calm down. Let me be frank—Daicon Film has production skills, but your commercial sense is weak. This project must follow strict guidelines. I'll license Royal Space Force to you, and I promise no one will interfere with your production. I'll also try to convince Bandai to invest 100–200 million yen."
Even President Okada, though slightly subdued, didn't object.
The success of Yamaga proved one thing—they weren't great at making money.
Fortunately, Kobayashi could handle that.
Okada and Anno grabbed Kobayashi's wrists, left and right.
"Bro, let's do this!"
The script was licensed—what else was there to say?
It's just Sonic. Let them draw it! Two spikes on his head, and they could handle Sonic without a problem.