"Yes, this is the one." Takuya Nakayama nodded with certainty.
Immediately after, as if reading from a manual, he rattled off a series of specifications that made everyone in the room gasp.
"Resolution 320x240, color depth up to 260,000 colors. Most importantly, it doesn't need that damn backlight! It uses natural light reflection for imaging. According to their disclosed theoretical data, the power consumption of this screen is a mere 40 milliwatts!"
Hideki Sato shot to his feet, his eyes wide with shock.
40 milliwatts!
To any hardware engineer, this number was a thunderclap from a clear sky.
After all, the transmissive color screens they were currently testing consumed hundreds or even thousands of milliwatts!
"Managing Director, theoretical parameters are one thing, but actual mass production is another—" Sato's voice was urgent, his breathing growing heavy.
"Contact NEC," Nakayama interrupted him without room for argument, issuing a direct order. "Find the head of their Display Division. By any means necessary, get a few engineering samples over here. We need to run a power-on and power consumption test with our motherboard immediately!"
Hideki Sato hurriedly grabbed the notebook and yanked off the pen cap.
"You will negotiate with them personally," Takuya Nakayama said, standing up and straightening the hem of his suit jacket. His eyes gleamed with the ruthless ambition of a business tycoon. "Tell the NEC representative: if their yield rate meets our mass-production standards, Sega will immediately place an initial order of over one million units for the next-generation handheld console, as soon as they can begin mass production!"
The pen tip in Hideki Sato's hand tore through the paper.
An initial order of over one million units!
Sega was currently the absolute hegemon of the global handheld console market. The staggering shipments of GamePocket, in the tens of millions, were undeniable proof of their dominance.
For any display panel manufacturer, this order would be a super-lucrative deal they couldn't refuse.
Especially for a new product just entering the market, securing such a massive order immediately would be an irresistible incentive to offset production line costs.
It would be enough to make NEC throw all their most critical resources into this production line!
"I'll schedule the appointment right away! We'll head to NEC Headquarters tomorrow afternoon!" Hideki Sato shut his notebook, all traces of fatigue vanishing.
He quickly crunched the numbers in his head, his heart racing with each calculation.
"Managing Director," Sato looked up, his voice trembling with irrepressible excitement. "If—and this is a big if—NEC's screen can really keep power consumption around 40 milliwatts..."
He reached for the two spare AA batteries on the desk.
"We won't need four batteries. Just two ordinary AA batteries."
Sato placed the batteries on the table, gently yet with profound solemnity.
"This 16-bit handheld console, with Mega Drive-level performance, could run for over fifteen hours straight! It's a miracle!"
Takuya Nakayama gazed at the two batteries, a wide smile spreading across his face.
"Go ahead. Get the second prototype with the new screen ready as soon as possible. I want to see it running the color version of Pokémon flawlessly."
Takuya Nakayama turned to leave the laboratory. At the doorway, he paused and looked back to add, "Now that the hardware architecture is finalized, we can officially schedule the work on the prototype's operating system and its compatibility with the development software. Go directly to the Software Department and get Yuji Naka on this. Let him take the lead on the system's low-level architecture. We need to pave the smoothest highway possible for third-party developers."
"Understood! Leave it to me!" Hideki Sato nodded vigorously, his eyes burning with anticipation for the next-generation handheld console.
April arrived.
In Tokyo, the cherry blossoms had already reached full bloom. But thousands of kilometers away on the Indochina Peninsula, a bloodless slaughter was just beginning.
Inside the Sega Investment Department's exclusive trading room, the air seemed to have solidified.
The clatter of keyboards merged into a single, relentless sound—like a torrential rain drumming on banana leaves, so urgent it left one breathless.
Hoshino stood with his arms crossed before a massive screen that occupied an entire wall, his gaze fixed on the exchange rate data that was plummeting across the board, a sea of green.
"Director Hoshino! Moody's just issued an emergency report, officially downgrading Thailand's sovereign credit rating!"
The senior trader ripped off his headset, his voice cracking with tension. "Market panic has gone completely off the rails!"
Hoshino yanked his silk tie loose, the fabric strangling his neck, and strode toward the central desk. His eyes were as sharp as a hawk's, locked onto its prey.
"Those Wall Street vampires have finally bared their fangs." He slammed his hands onto the desk, his fingers flying across the terminal keyboard. He pulled up the latest offshore data and let out a cold laugh. "Quantum Fund is leading the charge. That old madman Soros just spiked his short position from two billion to three and a half billion! They've gone insane!"
The forward FX market, the spot market, and the interbank lending rates—all three fronts were buckling under the pressure. Red and green lines writhed frantically across the screen.
The Baht's exchange rate defense was suffering an unprecedented, saturated assault.
The Bank of Thailand was like an infantryman with a wooden shield, facing the relentless bombardment of heavy artillery.
The data on the screen plummeted, a descent so brutal it made one's heart race with terror.
Without a moment's hesitation, Hoshino grabbed the internal line on his desk.
"All teams, listen up! Execute Plan B immediately! Liquidate all derivative positions in the Thai domestic market! Don't leave a single cent behind!"
On the other end of the line, the Bangkok front-line trading supervisor's voice trembled with hesitation. "Director Hoshino, but—the leveraged profits in the local market are at their peak right now, doubling every day! Withdrawing now is like spitting out a piece of fat right from our mouths—"
"Execute the order!" Hoshino cut him off without a shred of courtesy, his voice as cold as ice. "What the hell do you know? The Bank of Thailand absolutely cannot withstand an attack of this intensity. Their foreign exchange reserves are nearly depleted! Their next move will be to seek help from Singapore and Malaysia for a joint intervention. When that happens, liquidity in the local market will be completely locked down—they'll be trapping us in a dogfight! Do you want Sega's money to be buried with them?"
Hoshino took a deep breath and issued his instructions with rapid-fire speed: "Move all the withdrawn funds immediately to the offshore markets in Singapore and Hong Kong. Build positions in NDFs (Non-Deliverable Forwards)! We need to stand in the safe zone and snipe this headstrong bird with a rifle!"
"Understood! Executing immediately!" the supervisor shouted, jolted by the reprimand.
Hoshino hung up the phone, picked up the black coffee on his desk—now completely cold—and took a large gulp.
The bitter liquid slid down his throat, slightly clearing his brain, which was throbbing from intense concentration.
In high-stakes capital games, the pace is so relentless it leaves no room for hesitation.
A single second's delay is all it takes to plunge into the abyss.
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