In a park sowhere in Tokyo, Japan, children were happily playing.
So were playing in the sand, others were enjoying the slides.
A few were simply running around, full of joy.
Among them, the largest group had gathered around, playing handheld consoles with great excitent.
So of them only had slightly outdated GBA consoles. But even today, there were still ga studios developing titles for the GBA. It remained a perennial favorite in Gastar Electronic Entertainnt's handheld lineup—much like the FC.
However, there were still so differences between the GBA and FC.
The FC was more about building goodwill. Having sold 400 million units, it served to win players' affection and build a foundational impression. It also carried the mission of expanding the gaming audience.
That's why the FC remained extrely popular in regions with relatively weaker economies—such as Southeast Asia, Africa, and South Arica.
For under ten dollars, you could enjoy a wide variety of fun gas, as long as you didn't mind the now-outdated 8-bit graphics.
On the other hand, the reason Takayuki kept the GBA production line running was simple—it still made money.
GBA sales still brought in nearly 10 million dollars in annual profit for Gastar Electronic Entertainnt.
As the saying goes, even a mosquito is still at. For many smaller companies, that kind of profit would be considered a windfall. Who would say no to more inco?
Besides, the GBA required virtually no maintenance anymore—just keeping the production line running was enough, with minimal manpower required.
At that mont, three or four children were happily using their GBAs to trade Pokémon.
This social style of exchanging Pokémon remained very popular among kids.
Smartphones were still a bit too advanced for children—too many features, too much parental concern. A simple handheld console with clean content was the best choice for most parents.
"I've got a flamingo Pokémon. Anyone want it?"
"That thing's everywhere! Who'd want that?" the other kids replied with disdain.
...
"Ugh, how do I get past this Castlevania stage? I've been stuck forever. Anyone got tips?"
"Leave it to ! But you have to help catch Pokémon later!"
"No problem."
...
Nowadays, video gas had gradually beco a major part of people's daily lives, the most popular form of entertainnt at the mont.
And as ti passed, more and more companies were choosing to enter the gaming industry.
Even though the market had beco a "red ocean" of fierce competition, new ga studios still had a good chance of making money.
Sotis, a stable, profitable business model was even more attractive to investors—because it proved reliability. Once that image was established, the industry naturally headed toward a healthier, more sustainable future.
Among the children were a few holding more advanced handhelds like the GSL.
They were playing the handheld version of Final Fantasy: Crisis Core, tears rolling down their cheeks.
A group of kids crowding around one player, all crying over a video ga.
They might not yet understand adult scheming and betrayal, but they could still feel the pain of good people suffering injustice. And the player had just reached the emotional ending of Crisis Core, making them cry even harder.
"Uwaah! Why did they all have to die?! The teacher was such a good guy! Why did he have to die?!"
"Exactly! Why do so many people have to die? Adults are just too complicated. Why can't they just live peacefully together?"
"I really don't understand adults. All they ever do is fight and kill."
"You're one to talk—you were bullying just yesterday!"
"That's different! At least I didn't try to kill you!"
"Stop making excuses, you jerk!"
Children's minds jumped quickly. One mont they were crying over a story, the next they were arguing. The tears soon faded.
Elsewhere in the park, a group of seven or eight kids were playing Monster Hunter.
They split into two hunting teams, competing to see who could defeat the monster first.
The losers had to buy the winners ice cream for a whole week.
"Man, youth really is amazing. Just stepping into this park full of kids makes feel ten years younger," said a man standing near the park entrance.
Next to him, a mid-size van had parked. A group of staff wearing Gastar Electronic Entertainnt uniforms stepped out and began unloading all kinds of equipnt and materials.
They were the newly ford grassroots promotion team.
This was a new style of ground-level marketing, spearheaded by Masaru Ota.
As the leader of the initiative, he had naturally brought the first team out for a test run.
"Even if you were ten years younger, your hair still wouldn't grow back. So stop rubbing your bald head," ca a sarcastic voice from behind Masaru.
He looked embarrassed for a second, then laughed. "Can't I at least hold on to a bit of hope?"
The speaker was Natsu Yasutaka, another executive director in the marketing departnt. He held the sa rank as Masaru and was also one of Gastar's earliest employees.
"Honestly," Natsu continued, "you're better off bald. Even if you did grow hair, I think you'd still look better like this."
Unlike Masaru's more casual style, Natsu leaned toward professionalism and structure.
He had graduated from a top university and previously worked as a marketing director for a major firm. He joined the fledgling Gastar because he saw its potential.
Years later, his decision had proven wise.
Colleagues in the industry had long envied his move.
Now, he didn't really need to get his hands dirty anymore. But Masaru had dragged him along this ti to help promote video gas, mostly because he didn't want to feel bored going alone.
The two had always been a tight-knit team—one focused inward, the other outward. Their chemistry was excellent.
That's why Masaru didn't take offense to Natsu's jabs. On the contrary, he chuckled along.
"You really think I look better bald?"
"Yep, I do," Natsu said with a straight face.
"You're ssing with !"
"Hahahaha."
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