"First of all, on our side we’ll be providing a large number of video ga IP licenses. I’ve already been in contact with several designers—we’ll jointly design a set of Olympic-exclusive sports logos that combine video gas, ani, and traditional Japanese culture.
At the opening ceremony, video gas will take center stage. The opening protagonist will be the Japanese Pri Minister, who has already agreed to make another appearance dressed as Mario when entering the stadium. After that, we will..."
Ono Sano spoke for nearly half an hour, laying out almost the entirety of his planned opening ceremony concept.
It was already the second half of 2019, with less than a year remaining until the Tokyo Olympics.
At first glance, it seed like there was still plenty of ti—but hosting a truly successful Olympic opening ceremony required an enormous investnt of ti and energy.
By now, the overall structure of the opening ceremony needed to be mostly finalized. In early 2020, rehearsals would begin, with at least three large-scale full-run rehearsals required to ensure everything reached near perfection.
Ono Sano had previously directed several large events, including multiple national-level celebrations.
He was also soone very open to new things and genuinely fond of video gas. Takayuki had carefully selected him for the role of Olympic opening ceremony director.
In other words, he was one of their own.
"Very good. I’m quite satisfied," Takayuki said.
Ono Sano’s arrangents were solid—using various IP characters as representatives for different countries, playing each country’s own the music during their entrance, with every piece tied to gas or ani. It was the perfect opportunity to promote video ga culture.
"President, speaking of which, are we really not going to push for video gas to beco an Olympic event?" soone asked. "A lot of players are hoping esports can be included."
Takayuki shook his head. "No need. The Olympics themselves don’t an that much. Using the Olympics to enhance influence and prestige is fine, but turning video gas into Olympic events is not a good idea."
In his previous life, Takayuki had witnessed similar discussions.
At the ti, many young people strongly hoped that video gas would enter the Olympics, believing it would be a milestone mont.
They thought that once included, video gas would finally beco part of mainstream society.
But Takayuki knew better.
To beco an Olympic event, there were countless restrictions.
First, there could be no violence, blood, or negative thes—instantly eliminating more than ninety percent of video gas.
That left only seemingly "positive" genres like racing, football, or basketball gas. Yet even those would likely be rejected by the Olympic Committee for various reasons.
As for the exact reasons, Takayuki couldn’t say—but one thing ca to mind: final authority.
Gas were owned by their developers, who could modify them at any ti. Even the Olympic Committee would have no power to intervene.
That kind of constant change and uncertainty was unacceptable.
That alone was reason enough.
"We already have our own Gastar World Cup," Takayuki said decisively. "Let that beco a global event on par with the Olympics."
His tone left no room for debate. Once everyone heard it, they knew the matter was settled, and no one brought it up again.
Finally, Takayuki followed up on the developnt progress of the Olympic-thed ga.
Even if video gas couldn’t enter the Olympics, the Olympics could still beco part of video gas—and that showcased the inclusiveness of gaming culture.
Besides, this project had been requested by the Japanese governnt themselves. Takayuki naturally had to show so goodwill.
The Olympic ga’s title was straightforward: Tokyo Olympics 2020.
It could be experienced on any device—no exclusivity required—but certain gaplay elents would be platform-specific.
Motion-based sports gaplay would be exclusive to Gastar Electronic Entertainnt’s consoles, as would VR motion experiences. These could only be fully experienced on standard PCs or Gastar ho consoles.
Other platforms simply couldn’t support them completely.
This wasn’t about monopolizing content.
Those features were built using highly user-friendly developnt fraworks already optimized for PCs and Gastar consoles.
Platforms like Sury Electronics’ consoles did have motion and VR capabilities, but their systems were far more closed. Supporting them would require extensive additional optimization—ti Takayuki wasn’t willing to spend.
Once the Olympic-related discussions concluded, the eting ended.
Aizawa Airi pulled Takayuki Aya aside to chat, while the others returned to their respective tasks. Takayuki began his routine inspections of the various developnt departnts.
...
A few days later, in the United States, at Mickford’s headquarters, Myron Case sat gloomily staring at the latest data reports.
Gas that were originally expected to sell over a million copies were now falling far short of projections.
These titles had been projected to deliver profit margins of over thirty percent.
But now, let alone profits—even breaking even was difficult.
And the culprit behind all of this was Cyberpunk 2077.
It was downright cursed.
Absolutely unbelievable.
A ga that had been out for over two months suddenly saw its declining sales skyrocket again.
Daily sales broke one million.
That was performance reserved for top-tier releases—or massive discount events.
But Cyberpunk 2077 hadn’t been discounted at all.
It was an already-released ga—two months old, no less. By all logic, there was no reason for sales to explode again.
And yet, it happened.
When Myron Case learned of it, he was completely stunned.
He couldn’t help but question whether entering the video ga industry had been the right choice.
Why did unexpected disasters always appear whenever he tried to make a big move?
He knew the cause of Cyberpunk 2077’s sales explosion.
It was an ani.
Just an ani.
The idea was absurd.
Since when did an animation have this kind of influence?
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