"The fifth phase of construction is currently underway. The Pokémon Master Gym has been completed. Next, we'll be building a super-large comprehensive adventure complex. This complex is what you mentioned before, President—the Retro Trend Pavilion. It will mainly feature venues and attractions designed around various classic, retro-style games."
The manager in charge of the theme park project tapped on the screen in front of him, uploading data to the large display ahead, which showed the current construction status of the park.
With official government support, the construction schedule had already advanced by at least a full year compared to the original plan.
That was an astonishing pace.
At present, venues such as Mario Castle, the Final Fantasy Chocobo Park, the Dragon Quest–themed hall, and the Pokémon Master Pavilion had already opened one after another.
And as more venues opened, the park increasingly became a holy land in the hearts of players worldwide.
The sheer number of attractions also meant that the amount of content each visitor could experience increased dramatically.
If you really took your time, there was no way to finish everything in a single day.
And since you'd gone through all the trouble of traveling to Tokyo, how could you possibly be satisfied with just playing a little and then leaving?
Naturally, you'd want to come back for more.
As a result, most individual visitors or tour groups now planned at least three days for a Gamestar Park visit.
Some who played at a more leisurely pace even stayed for a full week.
When you did the math, the daily ticket revenue was staggering.
Originally, it was estimated that the park would take three to five years to break even. Now, the income alone was more than enough to fully support daily operations and continued expansion.
After listening to the report, Takayuki began laying out new plans.
That park land had been sold by the Japanese government at bargain-basement prices—letting it go to waste would be a huge loss.
So he decided to plan future Gamestar Carnival venues there as well.
The carnival grounds would be built on a scale close to a full-fledged theme park, large enough for players to spend an entire day enjoying themselves.
In addition, Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's esports stadium would also be constructed in the same area.
Ideally, it would be a super-large, comprehensive esports venue capable of holding more than 100,000 people.
Once completed, it could even be rented out to external organizations.
If anyone was interested, they could directly rent the stadium, bringing in additional revenue.
Takayuki's careful planning essentially mapped out several years' worth of development for the entire park district.
To players, that place was a sacred land. To Takayuki, it was no less so.
In his previous life, he'd never had the chance to experience a player haven of this scale.
Most companies, constrained by various considerations, would never attempt something like this.
But Takayuki had no such worries.
At moments like this, he couldn't help but feel grateful to the outstanding game creators of his previous life—without their games, he wouldn't have had the confidence to realize so many gaming dreams in this world.
After that, the meeting shifted to the Olympics.
The opening and closing ceremonies had now entered the final preparation phase.
All filming work had essentially been scheduled and completed.
A few days ago, another full rehearsal had taken place, and the feedback from this run-through was reportedly excellent.
The elderly director was delighted—he hadn't been able to create so freely in a very long time.
This made him genuinely grateful to Takayuki.
He was no longer working hard just because of Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's financial power.
He truly wanted to create an Olympic opening and closing ceremony that would leave an unforgettable impression on everyone.
At the same time, however, Takayuki had heard from multiple sources that other aspects of the Olympics were running into trouble.
First, several members of the organizing committee's management had been reshuffled—some promoted, others demoted.
Then they began aggressively pushing the concept of a "green Olympics," trying to make as many elements of the Games as possible revolve around environmental protection.
This was something Takayuki was all too familiar with.
In his previous life, it was precisely this group's actions that gradually derailed the Tokyo Olympics, making it awkward and incoherent, eventually turning it into a global joke.
Back then, the prime minister who had been deeply involved in the preparations ultimately resigned just before the opening ceremony.
It was hard not to read between the lines.
But none of that really concerned Takayuki. As long as the Olympic committee didn't interfere with him, they could blow the entire Olympics up for all he cared.
If the Olympics truly couldn't be held in this world, he'd simply repurpose the fully prepared opening and closing ceremonies for Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's own Esports World Cup.
By now, that Esports World Cup was gradually gaining the strength to stand toe-to-toe with traditional Olympic sporting events.
More and more young people were willing to support video games.
After all, they looked far more fashionable.
Alongside the preparations for the Olympic ceremonies was the development of the Olympic-themed game.
This was a project Takayuki had promised the Japanese government earlier.
Making an IP crossover game like this wasn't particularly stressful—just Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's existing IPs were more than enough to support an Olympic All-Stars–style game.
But to showcase unity across the gaming industry, Takayuki proactively invited Suri Electronics, Brown Entertainment, and Mikfow to license characters from their IPs as well.
Gamestar Electronic Entertainment would pay the appropriate licensing fees, all to allow players to experience a wider variety of IP characters in a single game.
Hayakawa Ueto of Suri Electronics agreed readily.
He personally loved events like the Olympics.
When he was young, he had witnessed a time when Japan's national confidence surged because of the Olympics.
Even now, thinking back on that era still stirred his blood.
Now that he had the ability to contribute to the Olympics himself, he had no reason to refuse.
Hayakawa Ueto even offered to license many of his IP characters to Gamestar Electronic Entertainment for free.
The only condition was that his characters get more screen time in CG animations.
Takayuki politely declined.
After all, no matter how you looked at it, this was still his game. Inviting other companies' IPs was already about leveraging their popularity to boost his own game's influence.
Giving their characters more spotlight would completely put the cart before the horse.
So the fees would be paid as usual.
More screen time? Not happening.
Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's IP characters would be the center of attention—non-negotiable.
Brown Entertainment's CEO, Hack Brown, expressed interest in Gamestar's invitation.
He was much more straightforward—after asking for a higher licensing fee, he agreed to the deal and allowed Gamestar to arrange everything freely, with no interference.
He trusted Takayuki's character.
As for Mikfow—
Myron Kess refused outright, without hesitation.