Super Marino!
In the first planning meeting room where the core team had assembled, Henry dramatically whipped away the black cloth. Beneath it revealed a mockup device with smooth, elegant curves that stood in complete contrast to the crude home electronics of 1979.
A chilly silence instantly enveloped the room. Henry picked up the device lightly with one hand and spoke with relaxed confidence.
“This is our first ambitious project from Enjoy: the Pocket Enjoy.”
The device on the meeting table had completely eliminated the massive joysticks and complex button arrays that were in vogue at the time. It was compact, too. Portable devices these days were portable in name only. In reality they were as huge as bricks, rendering the very word “portable” ironic. This design challenged that common sense head-on.
This still has that 20th-century feel, but… this is what works in this era! Besides, I paid attention to the details, so I might as well give their eyes a treat.
“The concept is clear. Instead of the cumbersome traditional joystick, I’ve placed a four-directional key that I designed myself—in other words, the D-pad—front and center. We’ll combine it with the low-power LCD technology for calculators that all of you from ARF know so well. The single goal is a size that slips neatly into an adult’s shirt pocket.”
Marcus, who had come from Atari, frowned and asked sharply, “If it doesn’t use interchangeable cartridges, won’t consumers get tired of it right away? That’s the exact opposite of Atari’s proven success formula.”
Henry answered with a faint smile, as though he had expected the question. “We did consider a ROM-replacement system like Atari’s home consoles. However, our current objective is maximum portability. At our present technological level, cramming in a slot would only make the unit heavy and sluggish. For now we’ll seize the market with a complete, single-game product. We’ll keep the cartridge approach as a hidden card for our next project. After all, the best dishes are always served last.”
Henry passed the mockup around so the developers could hold it, then continued. “We won’t call this a mere game console. Its official name is the Pocket Enjoy, a comprehensive multi-entertainment machine. What else does it need besides games? A clock and an alarm. Look at the back of the mockup. There’s a built-in stand, correct? When you’re not playing, it becomes an elegant desktop digital clock. That single feature will expand our target audience from children to businessmen all over the world. The excuse is a clock; the truth is a game. Perfect, isn’t it?”
“Fitting a speaker and alarm circuitry into this size means battery life will be the critical factor.”
“I’ve considered clock-speed reduction for better battery efficiency, but that’s something you experts will have to verify under real operating conditions. We’re not building calculators, after all. We need a clever trick that cuts power while preserving responsive controls. In short, we must extract an extremely efficient power design.”
Henry slid his finger across the blueprints on the table. “Focus on ultra-precise component placement that minimizes every gap. With your experience handling calculator chipsets, I’m confident you can find even another 0.1 mm of breathing room on the board. Instead of an overly ambitious layout, show me the absolute limit of efficiency you can achieve within the given plane. That is the true value of the word ‘Pocket.’”
The ARF veterans listened intently to Henry’s instructions and kept nodding. The realization that the young patriarch they had assumed was merely an investor understood hardware mechanisms perfectly transformed the room’s atmosphere into one of awe.
Whew, that documentary is really paying off here. Truth is, I’m just repeating what I memorized.
Henry wiped away an imaginary cold sweat while cross-checking the game-tycoon novel he had read in his previous life against the real-world Nintendo documentary still fresh in his memory. The blueprint he had just presented was essentially an upgraded version of the Watch & Game that Nintendo would unveil in the second half of next year. It was a perfect regressor’s free lunch—stealing the lead and eating the future before history could catch up.
By locking in the first-mover advantage and rushing the release, let’s see how Nintendo reacts now.
Henry returned to the office after finishing lunch at an upscale Italian restaurant. The rich aroma of truffle oil still lingered on his tongue, but it was now time to reveal his side as a game designer rather than a hardware engineer.
When he stepped into the conference room, Marcus and the ARF programmers were already waiting, rifling through stacks of proposal documents. Henry took a sip of the Jamaica Blue Mountain coffee Jay had prepared beforehand. In 1979 Korea such a luxury was nearly impossible to obtain, yet he set the cup down with elegant nonchalance, as though the privilege were only natural.
He spread a blank sheet of paper across the table.
“If hardware is the bowl, then the game is the dish served inside it. No matter how beautiful the bowl, if the food tastes bad no one will return. We cannot even give customers the chance to complain. We need a ‘drug-like flavor’ that paralyzes their taste buds the moment they open the door, making them crave only our cooking.”
Marcus, the ex-Atari man, spoke up as if he had been waiting for his cue. “What about something in the style of Atari’s Pong or Breakout? They’re proven hits, and the technical load to implement them on LCD is light.”
Henry shook his head immediately. “No, Marcus. Those are fun when you’re sitting in front of a big TV at home. For a portable device you pull from your pocket to kill a few minutes at the bus stop, the game itself cannot be that monotonous. We need attractive characters and a clear story.”
Of course the first thing an ex-Atari guy suggests is Pong. So this is where the whole “back in my day” thing comes from.
Henry drew a crude but powerfully present gorilla in the center of the paper, along with a small man holding a hammer.
“The name is ‘King Kong’… No, that could invite copyright trouble, so let’s call it Mighty Ape. A giant gorilla hurls barrels from the top of a building under construction while a carpenter named Marino below dodges them and climbs up to rescue his girlfriend.”
The programmers’ eyes widened. In an era ruled by abstract dots and lines, Henry had just dropped a concrete drama into their laps.
“Segment LCDs can’t move dots freely, but by blinking predetermined coordinates for stairs and ladders we can create surprisingly dynamic action. Especially the satisfying feel of climbing ladders and jumping barrels with the D-pad I designed! That tactile response is the heart of our game.”
“A carpenter… That’s quite specific. It will be far more immersive than simply avoiding dots,” an ARF programmer murmured, studying Henry’s sketch carefully.
Henry smiled and drove the point home. “And the most important part: make the difficulty rise with every cleared stage. Human competitive spirit is infinite. We must create an addiction so strong that players can’t put the device down until the battery dies, their eyes glued to the rising score.”
He pulled the mockup closer and pointed to the three buttons at the bottom. “Game A, Game B, and the Time button. This layout is crucial. The game buttons adjust difficulty, and pressing Time instantly switches the screen to a clock. Whether you’re an office worker or a student sneaking in a quick session, if the boss or teacher suddenly appears? One button press and you’re back to looking like a model employee. Think of it as camouflage.”
Henry kept going, sketching characters on the blank paper with a level of refinement impossible for contemporary technology. A mustached man in charming plumber style—Marino—and a fierce yet oddly adorable gorilla caricature were completed in moments.
Definitely worth the points I poured into my health stat. I could draw well in my previous life, but my hand never moved this freely.
Henry set the pen down, quietly astonished at his own speed. The conference room had gone completely still. More than the proposal itself, everyone—especially Marcus—seemed overwhelmed by the polish of the sketches and the star quality of their cuteness.
“These are the Marino and gorilla characters we’ll use in advertising. Naturally I’m not demanding this exact quality on the crude LCD inside the device. These faces are for future billboards and product packaging. Your job is to capture the spirit of these images and translate it into in-game movement.”
Marcus, as if spellbound, pulled the paper toward himself and examined the drawings. “My God… Boss, these aren’t mere game characters. They could become icons like Mickey Mouse or Popeye. Even people who never buy the console will want a Mighty Ape doll! How irresistibly charming! If we turned these into plush toys they’d sell out instantly.”
Spurred by Marcus’s excitement, the ARF programmers adjusted their glasses and began dissecting the sketches in detail.
“With characters this strong, the objective becomes crystal clear. Jump to avoid barrels, rescue the woman captured by the gorilla… Even with 8-bit logic we can make it immersive.”
Henry smiled in satisfaction and delivered the final blow. “Exactly. We’re not selling machines; we’re selling stories. We’re putting the short drama of Marino defeating the gorilla and rescuing his lover into people’s pockets. It’s only one line of narrative, but that single line will create a decisive difference from every other game.”
“One question, Boss. The gorilla makes sense as a giant-monster archetype like you said, but why on earth did you name the hero Marino?”
“Marcus, do you remember the chef at the Italian restaurant we just left?”
“…No? Boss, it was my first time there. I only remember the pasta was superb. Why do you ask?”
“Well… that friend’s name is Marino.”
I went through a lot of trouble finding a restaurant just so I could use the name Marino. Actually the man’s full name is Marinoni, but borrowing part of it should be polite enough, right?
Even after saying it out loud Henry felt slightly awkward, so he turned the subject to Jay, who was sitting quietly in the corner.
“Jay, send the copyright and trademark applications for these characters to the think-tank’s patent team immediately. The names are Marino and Mighty Ape. Especially note that this gorilla is not merely a wild animal. Bundle the unique name Mighty Ape together with the trademark of its distinctive barrel-throwing pose. If anyone later draws a similar furry gorilla and makes it throw barrels, whoever they are, they will be staring at the terrifying faces of our legal team in court.”