Lower the marketing weight?!
The moment those words left Miyano Mitei's lips, the meeting room erupted into chaos.
The "marketing weight" referred to the intensity of a game's promotional campaign. Each department had a fixed marketing budget every year. Typically, S-tier projects were massive company-wide endeavors, with all resources pooled to push them. A-tier projects used the department's budget for promotion, while C-tier…
For a small-scale project like I'm Surrounded by Beautiful Women, with its 100-million-yen budget, the proposal listed it as having a C-tier marketing weight.
Of course, the marketing weight in the proposal was just a pre-launch estimate. If a game's sales soared, the department head could increase its weight, even requesting S-tier status from the company. But if it flopped, the marketing budget would be slashed to save resources.
While Dead or Alive had indeed tanked spectacularly, applying to lower its marketing weight just three days after launch sent a clear signal: Miyano Mitei had lost patience with fighting games.
The room buzzed with tension. Everyone felt the stakes.
Looking at the restless crowd and locking eyes with Deputy Director Yamanaka and the tall, lanky man beside him, Miyano furrowed her brow and said coldly, "Yes, I submitted the request yesterday. I don't think a game with 4,000 first-day sales deserves to keep eating up A-tier marketing resources. It's unfair to the other studios in our department."
"Unfair?!"
The gloves were off. Yamanaka dropped all pretense.
His gaze lingered brazenly on Miyano's 36D curves before pointing at Fuyukawa Tetsu. "You're talking about fairness, Minister Miyano? Then why does Team Leader Fuyukawa's 100-million-yen debut project get a C-tier marketing weight?! As far as I know, even experienced deputy directors get D-tier for their first trial project!
"And what's more unfair than promoting Fuyukawa to team leader after just four years? Every team leader here worked their tails off for years to get where they are. Matsushima, how long did it take you to become team leader?"
"Twelve years, Deputy Director!"
"Maruyama, you?!"
"Eleven years, Deputy Director!"
"Sekiya?!"
"Nine years, Deputy Director!"
"Oshima…"
---
One by one, the bald Yamanaka called out names with fierce authority. Team leaders around the long table stood up, their presence amplifying the tension. The room's atmosphere grew colder by the second. Miyano's female secretary looked visibly nervous, but it wasn't over yet.
The team leaders didn't sit back down after reporting. Instead, they fixed icy stares on Fuyukawa. These were seasoned veterans, loyal to Yamanaka, ready to pounce on his command.
Even the onlookers joined in—some with smirks, others with worry, and plenty with schadenfreude, all directed at Fuyukawa.
"Yamanaka's going all out this time."
"He's been backed into a corner. If he doesn't escalate this and get the board involved, Miyano will crush him eventually. Poor Fuyukawa's just caught in the crossfire."
"Crossfire? He climbed the ranks by clinging to Miyano's coattails! Whatever perks he got before, he's gonna have to cough them up now!"
"With the minister backing him, he'll probably be fine."
"Don't count on it. Yamanaka's threatening Miyano here. Dead or Alive flopped so hard the board's already annoyed. If our department stirs up more trouble, Yamanaka's toast, but Miyano won't escape unscathed either!"
Most in the room were reveling in the drama. Fuyukawa's rapid rise had sparked envy among younger employees, but every coin has two sides. A team leader position was a zero-sum game—one person's gain was another's loss.
When people fail, they rarely look inward. Instead, they hunt for flaws in others to prove they're just "unlucky" or "undiscovered talent." Until now, Fuyukawa had been untouchable. But Yamanaka had made him the weak point.
As more names were called, the room grew louder, and more eyes turned to Fuyukawa.
The eye of the storm.
Fuyukawa sat at the center of it all, every gaze in the room locked on him.
"Damn it!"
Seeing Fuyukawa's darkening expression under the relentless scrutiny, Miyano's eyes grew colder, her fists clenching unconsciously on the table.
Truthfully, she was cornered. She'd anticipated this and could back down today, play nice, and deal with Yamanaka later. But…
Thinking of her recent interactions with Fuyukawa, his talent, his fire, Miyano's resolve hardened. Her lips parted, ready to speak, when—
Tap, tap, tap.
In the noisy meeting room, amid Yamanaka's ongoing roll call, in this chaotic yet oddly "quiet" atmosphere, the sound of Fuyukawa's fingernail tapping the table cut through, reaching every ear.
Under the stunned gazes of the female employee beside him and everyone else, Fuyukawa stopped tapping and looked up at Yamanaka. "So, Deputy Director Yamanaka, are you saying positions and resources should be decided by age and seniority?"
His tone was casual, but the words were anything but.
The room fell deathly silent. Even Miyano blinked in surprise, though a flicker of amusement soon danced in her fox-like eyes. Everyone else was dumbfounded.
No one expected Fuyukawa to openly challenge the veteran Yamanaka in a department meeting!
Even Yamanaka himself was caught off guard, but facing this junior, he didn't lose his temper. Instead, he sneered dismissively. "Didn't your mother teach you to stand and bow to your seniors before speaking in the workplace?"
Heavy words, laced with a jab at propriety. But Fuyukawa just stared back calmly. "Then, as my senior, can you answer my question, Deputy Director? Do you believe positions and resources should be allocated by age and years of service?"
"Baka! Who do you think you are to talk here?!" It wasn't Yamanaka who snapped, but the tall, lanky man beside him. "Fuyukawa, know your place! Baka! Japan's in this mess because of youngsters like you who don't respect hierarchy! Apologize to Deputy Director Yamanaka now with a bow!"
Japan's rigid hierarchy meant employees couldn't defy their bosses—or their seniors. No matter how exploited or oppressed, juniors were expected to swallow their pride, or they'd be labeled "rude," "uneducated," or "ignorant of social rules."
It was a heavy accusation. The lanky man, perhaps nervous about challenging Miyano head-on, shouted fiercely, his small eyes bulging, his face contorted, his pointing finger trembling slightly.
But under his gleeful gaze, under everyone's eyes, and under Miyano's disappointed stare, Fuyukawa slowly stood, buttoning his suit jacket.
"He's going to apologize?!"
"Serves him right! Challenging a senior like that? He's got no manners!"
"They should strip him of his team leader title. People like him don't belong in the workplace!"
"Youngsters need to learn to keep their heads down."
The room buzzed again with chatter. But then, with his jacket buttoned, Fuyukawa planted his hands on the table and locked eyes with Yamanaka.
"If positions and resources are decided by age and seniority, then you should be a minister by now, Deputy Director. But you're not. And the only reason I can think of is that your abilities just aren't up to par."
"!"
"!"
"!"
Your abilities aren't up to par.
The words dropped like a bomb. The room went dead silent, every jaw on the floor.
Even Miyano's eyes widened, but as she watched Fuyukawa—hands on the table, leaning forward, still commanding the room—something stirred in her alluring gaze.
Yamanaka's face turned beet red, the pores on his bald head practically steaming.
But Fuyukawa wasn't done.
Looking at the fuming Yamanaka, he tilted his head nonchalantly. "I don't get it. Why do older folks like you love acting wise and lecturing the young?
"Age only proves you were born before me—nothing else. Some people stop growing at 30, even 20, yet you act like your 'experience' and 'wisdom'—intangible things impossible to measure—give you the right to order us around.
"Don't you have anything tangible to show, something that would actually make us youngsters respect you? Or is 'age' and 'seniority' just an excuse for people like you, who haven't achieved much, to exploit and oppress the young?"
Boom!
Fuyukawa's words detonated the room. Everyone stared, shell-shocked, exchanging glances.
At the head of the table, Miyano's sharp, icy gaze melted into pools of autumn water, reflecting Fuyukawa's figure. Watching his strong back and commanding aura, her scalp tingled, her cheeks flushed, and she unconsciously shifted, rubbing her plump thighs, wrapped in sheer black stockings, crossed in a refined manner.
"How should I reward you for this performance… my little lion?"