Takayuki wasn't particularly familiar with the popular anime, film, and TV music of this world.
Most of his time was spent working, so he rarely had the chance to engage with anything outside of video games.
When it came to choosing video game tracks, Takayuki had plenty of say—he could recommend many famous game pieces to Director Ono Sa.
But as for anime, film and television, and traditional Japanese culture, those choices could only be left to Ono Sa himself.
Fortunately, Ono Sa was a seasoned director. He had produced countless film and TV works, and had even followed trends by making a live-action animation film, dabbling in all kinds of fields.
His taste was quite good. He listened through a vast range of works—modern and ancient—and, together with his think tank, selected only the best and most iconic pieces to use as BGMs for the countries' entrances.
To people in this world, those classic tracks were the kind that instantly made their "DNA move."
In the stadium, some people even began humming along with the music.
Hearing the audience hum, the athletes from the entering country grew excited.
They felt even more certain that this Olympics was going to be excellent.
Next, all they had to do was give everything they had to bring glory to their nations.
After that came more classic tracks from games, anime, and film.
In the gaps, Ono Sa also recommended official event-specific background music to the Olympic committee for different competition categories, so that Japanese culture could be woven even more deeply into the Games.
Whether the committee would follow his suggestions was another matter.
"Dad, why isn't it over yet?"
On the broadcast, nearly a hundred countries had already entered one after another, and it still didn't look like it was ending. Every country had its own BGM, and each also had a unique national character shown on the big screen, depicting different sports.
At first, it felt fresh.
But as time passed, people gradually began to feel bored.
"It should be soon, I guess."
The father stared at the TV uncertainly.
There were more than two hundred participating countries in total. This was only about half. To finish would take at least the same amount of time again.
This portion wasn't entirely considered "the opening show," because it was the standard athletes' parade—something every Olympics had.
It was just that there were more participating countries this year, making it feel especially drawn out.
Ono Sa had originally suggested compressing the entrance time for each country.
But the Olympic committee wanted every nation to have an equal chance to be shown and rejected his suggestion—so it had to proceed in this dry, one-by-one manner.
Gradually, some viewers became dissatisfied, even wanting to change channels. Unfortunately, many countries' official broadcasters were airing the Olympics live in real time. A world-class event like this only happened once every four years, so it was treated with the highest level of importance.
So those viewers could only endure the athletes' parade.
Fortunately, it did eventually end. After more than two hours, all participating countries finally completed their entrance, and both the long-suffering viewers and the audience on-site regained a bit of energy.
After all athletes entered, a very stirring and uplifting piece of music played.
It was the official theme for this Olympics, passionately performed by a famous Japanese female singer in this world. Takayuki listened and felt it was quite good.
It was a track he had never heard before—fresh to him. He even thought: if he were reborn back into his original world, maybe he could bring things from this parallel world over and let them shine there.
But it was only idle thinking. Takayuki had already settled down completely in this world. He had a family now—he absolutely did not want to be reborn again.
The opening theme ended, followed by the athletes' oath.
The on-site coordinators also seemed to realize the audience was probably exhausted, so they didn't waste time. The oath ended quickly, and next came the true "program" segment of the opening ceremony.
"Oh right—who's lighting the torch?" Takayuki suddenly asked Aya beside him.
Aya gave him a strange look. "You really are someone who only lives for games. You don't even know that?"
"Uh… I really don't."
"It's a national-treasure-level actor, Kanekawa Ryuuji, whose status is about on par with Ono Sa's. I really like the dramas he acts in."
"Oh."
Not familiar. Not familiar at all.
"Wow! Wow!"
At that moment, little Yume pointed excitedly at the sky, as if telling everyone to look up.
Now about three years old, Yume already showed basic logic in her actions. Sometimes she even seemed far smarter than most children her age—at least, at three, she could already clear a full video game normally.
Without basic logical thinking, it was hard to understand how to clear a game. Other kids at that age usually just played mindlessly for fun, without any particular traits.
Takayuki followed the direction of Yume's excitement and saw the sky erupting into magnificent fireworks.
They were bursts shaped like icons from video games, anime, film, and classic Japanese traditional culture.
Every bloom lit the sky a little brighter, and alongside it sounded music like a countdown.
Each piece was the signature BGM tied to the corresponding icon.
Mario's. The Legend of Zelda's. Sun Knight's. Dragon Quest's…
And also anime BGMs Takayuki couldn't name. In terms of program effect and arrangement, it was Japan proudly displaying everything it valued most in its culture.
Across the ocean in the United States, some people were staying up late to watch the opening ceremony live—children included.
When they saw classic character silhouettes blooming in the fireworks, a thought naturally formed in their minds:
I want to have those characters too.
It was the possessiveness rooted in a child's instincts.
And it was easy to imagine that if they saw merchandise featuring those firework icons in malls later, they'd go crazy begging their parents to get them.
No—actually, it was already happening.
In a certain 24-hour convenience store in the U.S., a father and son walked in. The child looked seven or eight, the father in his thirties. The clerk on duty had been watching the opening ceremony intently and hadn't expected anyone to come in at this hour. Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away and asked, "Sir, what do you need?"
"I want… ahem, no—it's my son. He wants Pokémon figurines. Do you have those?"
"Huh?" The clerk froze.
Coming out in the middle of the night just to buy toys?
What a weirdo.
Then again… he actually kind of wanted to buy some too.
He was also a gamer, and Pokémon's cute design appealed to everyone, regardless of age or gender.
After seeing Pokémon appear in the Olympics, he had also wanted related merchandise immediately.
"Yes, we do. They're on Shelf H—those are the kids' toys."
The father was delighted and said to the child, "Come on—let's go buy the Pokémon toy you want most!"
At that moment, the child muttered, "But Dad, what I want is…"
The man didn't listen, dragging him toward Shelf H.
The clerk glanced at the pair, then returned to watching the opening ceremony.
Huh—this opening ceremony is actually pretty interesting.
…
In Takayuki's memory, the Tokyo Olympics opening ceremony in his original world had been practically a hellscape on earth. He had no idea what that director had been thinking, putting such eerie, unsettling things into the show.
Later, they even claimed it was "fully showcasing traditional Japanese culture so the world could understand it."
The world did understand it—just with entirely negative impressions. For a long time afterward, that opening ceremony became a punchline.
So after coming to this world, Takayuki desperately wanted a truly fitting Olympic opening ceremony—one that matched what he believed it should be.
If he didn't have the ability, he wouldn't bother fantasizing. Whatever the Olympics became wouldn't matter to him.
But here, he had the power to change the content of the opening and closing ceremonies—so he very much wanted to change everything.
Now, on the performance field below, one familiar video game icon after another appeared.
The first to enter was the symbol of gaming's rise in this world: Super Mario Bros.
And the person playing Mario was none other than the Japanese Prime Minister himself.
Nearly seventy years old, the Prime Minister looked like a mischievous old man, throwing himself enthusiastically into the performance. It shocked many people.
A nation's leader could actually drop his dignity like this?
Clearly, he had pinned all his hopes on the Olympics, hoping to use them to bring Japan back to the top.
For that, he was willing to abandon his "style" and personally act in the opening ceremony.
Takayuki genuinely respected this Prime Minister. At the very least, he dared to act boldly—far better than both the Prime Minister of Takayuki's previous world and this world's previous prime minister.
If he had the chance in the future, he could keep in touch with him more and cooperate on making more games that promoted Japan—consider it a gesture of respect.
The opening act began with the Prime Minister as Mario. He pulled out the game's mushroom item, pretended to eat it, then—just like in the game—puffed out his chest and lifted his head, as if he truly had become taller and stronger.
Next appeared Luigi, tall and thin—played by a famous actor in this world—following behind the Prime Minister.
The Prime Minister and the actor playing Luigi reached the center of the field.
Then the entire stadium went dark, and all spotlights focused on the center.
Pixel blocks began appearing on the ground, and some players immediately screamed in excitement.
It was the first stage of the original Super Mario.
And what the Prime Minister had to do… was clear it.
Everything had been meticulously choreographed. The Prime Minister performed with surprising seriousness, so clearing it wasn't difficult. Before long, he reached the castle at the end of the pixelated stage.
The castle then transformed into a 3D structure. The Prime Minister entered it, and the castle slowly sank into the ground.
"Hey, what kind of performance is this? It's kind of interesting," someone in the stadium asked, confused.
The person beside him was still riding the high of excitement. Hearing the question—and with the segment temporarily over—he calmed down a bit and replied, "You don't know Super Mario? That's the most classic game icon there is."
"Well… I know it. My kid likes it. But I'm not interested in video games, so I don't really understand."
"Then that's really your loss," the other person said with a sympathetic look. "Once you actually experience video games, you'll understand why this scene is so exciting."
"Is that so…" the man blinked.
He still didn't instantly believe video games were inherently interesting.
But at this moment, he felt that if he didn't learn more about video games, he might truly be left behind by the times.
When he got home, he'd ask his kid for that game and try it.
For adults, you could be unfamiliar with some pop culture—but you absolutely couldn't refuse to follow the mainstream.
Judging from the atmosphere here, video games and anime were clearly trending toward becoming mainstream culture.
If he continued knowing nothing, he really would fall behind the era.
So, in the spirit of not being left behind, he had to at least try.
At that point, the person explaining added, "If you want to try, I actually wouldn't recommend starting with Super Mario anymore. New players might not adapt to that retro pixel style. I recommend the newest Mario titles. And if you think those are too childish, I have other recommendations—you can play Titanfall, Metal Gear Solid, or Cyberpunk."
He rattled off one great title after another like he was reciting treasures.
The listener looked completely stunned.
There are that many video games?
He had always thought video games were just a little guy jumping around on a screen, hitting mushroom monsters.
It wasn't that he was ignorant—he had simply been absorbed by other things in this world and never had the chance to truly touch or understand video games.
Now, hearing this stranger's answer, he felt that maybe he really had underestimated the value of video games.
So when he got home, he truly would need to take a fresh, serious look at video games.