Chapter 1479 1397 “Can You Be a Little Bit Like Him?” and Hopeless

Bill Gates entered the meeting room and immediately sat down across from Seamus Blackley. Seamus already had several documents spread across the table in front of him, including development reports, production schedules, sales estimates, and information about the current competition between X-Box and ZEPS 4. He sighed quietly when Bill arrived because judging by the expression on his boss's face, he already knew this wasn't going to be a particularly relaxing conversation.

Bill adjusted himself in the chair before looking toward Seamus. "First of all, Seam, how are our three games progressing?"

Seamus immediately nodded. At least this was something he could answer confidently. "They're fine, boss. Development is still following the schedule. If nothing major happens, all three should be ready around the end of March like we expected."

"All three?"

"Yeah. We already moved enough resources around to keep them from slipping. There are still some polishing and testing problems, obviously, but nothing that should cause a major delay."

Bill nodded slowly. That was good news. Microsoft needed those games badly. X-Box wasn't failing, and compared to some competitors it was actually doing quite well, but the problem was that Microsoft wasn't merely competing against another normal console manufacturer anymore. They were trying to establish themselves in an industry where ZAGE had spent more than a decade building an absurdly loyal audience, massive development infrastructure, strong third-party relationships, its own game engine, online systems, distribution networks, and now ZEPS 4.

A few weeks earlier, Seamus had argued that March could become Microsoft's opportunity.

ZAGE's ZEPS 4 launch had been enormous, but producing games at that level required time. Even ZAGE couldn't continuously release twelve massive ZEPS 4 games every month. March looked relatively empty from the information Microsoft had managed to gather, which meant X-Box could release several strong games while attention temporarily shifted away from ZAGE.

Bill tapped one of the reports with his finger. "A couple of weeks ago, when we talked about this, you told me ZAGE probably wouldn't release much in March because the games they are developing for ZEPS 4 require a lot of time."

"Correct."

Bill raised an eyebrow. "But we're not even in March yet, and they suddenly release three more games in February."

Seamus already knew this question was coming.

Bill continued, looking at papers in his hand "Oddworld, Dino Crisis 2, and Silent Bomber. Three games. How does that happen, Seam? Every time we think they're slowing down, something else comes out."

Seamus sighed. "It's different, boss."

"How?"

"Those are ZEPS 3 games."

Bill remained silent.

Seamus gestured toward the documents. "They're not new ZEPS 4 projects that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. All three were most likely in development long before ZEPS 4 even launched."

Bill leaned back slightly.

"So these aren't evidence that ZAGE can suddenly produce three ZEPS 4 games in a few weeks?"

"No." Seamus shook his head. "Their development magnitude isn't comparable to something like Halo, Monster Hunter, GTA: San Andreas, or the other major ZEPS 4 launch titles. They're still good games, obviously, but they're projects finishing the previous generation."

He paused before adding, "And because ZEPS 4 can play ZEPS 3 games anyway, ZAGE has no reason to cancel them. People who already bought the new console can still buy these games. It's actually pretty smart."

Bill gave him a look.

Seamus frowned. "...Unfortunately."

That earned a small chuckle from Bill.

Seamus continued, "So I still think March is our best window. ZAGE probably has projects coming later, but if our three games release around the end of March and they're good enough, we can pull attention toward X-Box for a while. We don't need to permanently steal every ZEPS player. That's unrealistic right now. We need moments where people look at X-Box and say, 'Okay, there's something here I can't ignore.'"

Bill nodded, but his expression still didn't look entirely convinced.

"Honestly, Seam... I'm not as confident about that as I was before."

Seamus raised an eyebrow.

Bill folded his hands. "Yesterday I heard something ridiculous. Zaboru livestreamed himself playing 2 games, and afterward both games received another increase in attention and sales."

Seamus closed his eyes for a moment.

"Is that actually true?" Bill asked.

"...Yes."

Bill stared at him.

Seamus rubbed his forehead. "The exact impact is difficult to calculate because both games were already selling extremely well, but yes. even our data said its increase...."

Bill remained silent for several seconds.

Then he asked, "Because he played them?"

"Because he played them."

Bill blinked.

"That's stupid."

"It is."

"And he wasn't even doing some organized marketing event?"

"No."

"Just... livestreaming?"

Seamus sighed. "He wanted to show people how to properly use Great Sword because apparently watching people play it badly personally offended him."

Bill stared at Seamus.

Seamus shrugged. "That's genuinely what happened."

"And Halo?"

"He got bored after playing Monster Hunter for one and a half hours, switched games, went into multiplayer, and started destroying people."

Bill Gates leaned backward in complete disbelief.

"So ZAGE's owner gets annoyed because people are bad at his game, livestreams himself teaching them, gets bored, plays another game, destroys random customers online... and somehow that's marketing."

"Pretty much."

Bill slowly rubbed his forehead.

"This fucking company..."

Seamus laughed quietly. "That's what I said."

Bill stared at the ceiling for several seconds before looking back at him. "You know what the annoying part is?"

"What?"

"It doesn't feel fake."

Seamus nodded immediately. "That's exactly why it works."

Zaboru wasn't sitting in front of the camera reading advertising notes telling viewers how revolutionary his own games were. He was joking with people, insulting their Great Sword skills, arguing with chat, laughing when they accused him of manipulating item drops, and playing games because he genuinely wanted to play them.

People could tell.

Even when Zaboru said something stupid, it felt like Zaboru being stupid rather than ZAGE's marketing department instructing its CEO to act relatable.

Seamus sighed. "And unfortunately he's actually entertaining. If he sucked at the games, people would probably laugh at him for a week and move on, but the bastard is ridiculously good too."

Bill suddenly smiled.

Seamus immediately became suspicious.

"...What?"

Bill leaned forward. "Seam."

"No."

"I haven't even said anything."

"Your face said enough."

Bill started laughing. "Come on! Hear me out."

Seamus stared at him.

Bill spread his hands. "I know this is probably too much to ask, but... can you be a little more like him?"

Seamus' face went blank.

Bill continued as if this were a completely reasonable proposal. "Make an X-Box YouTube channel. Go online. Play our games. Talk to people. Make some funny faces. Be charming."

"Boss."

"You already have some reputation."

"Boss."

"People remember you from FAMICOM GOTY."

Seamus immediately covered his face.

Bill's smile widened.

"Especially when you stood there and screamed—"

"Don't."

Bill raised both hands dramatically.

"'X-BOX IS ROCX!'"

Seamus dropped his hands and glared at him.

"First of all, boss, for the record, YOU were one of the people who told me to act like that!"

Bill burst out laughing.

"You said we needed energy! You said we needed to show people Microsoft wasn't some boring company full of office workers!"

"It was memorable!"

"It was humiliating!"

Bill laughed harder. "People still remember it!"

"That's the problem!"

Seamus sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. "And no. I can't do what Zaboru does."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not Zaboru!"

Bill grinned.

Seamus pointed toward himself. "I don't have that kind of charisma. I'm not going to turn on a camera, grin at people, call them plebs, destroy some impossible boss and suddenly sell another fifty thousand consoles."

"Maybe you could try."

"And I suck at video games!"

That finally made Bill laugh again.

Seamus continued, "Do you understand how badly this would go? Zaboru streams Halo and casually wins. I stream our games and spend two hours getting killed by plebs."

Bill nodded thoughtfully. "That might actually be entertaining."

"Boss."

Seamus sighed.

Bill was still smiling when he leaned back. "Alright. Forget becoming the next Zaboru Renkonan. Proceed with the original plan. Three games, end of March. Good launch support, proper marketing, and don't let development slip."

"That's much more reasonable."

"But..."

Seamus stared at him suspiciously again.

Bill chuckled. "Maybe make one YouTube video someday."

"No."

Bill laughed before his expression slowly became more serious again. "There is another interesting rumor going around."

Seamus raised an eyebrow.

Bill continued, "Apparently i-Play might be discontinued."

Seamus stared at him for half a second before laughing.

"Well... sooner or later."

Bill smiled. "You're not surprised?"

"Not remotely."

Unlike Microsoft, Apple had never managed to build enough momentum around i-Play to make it truly threatening. X-Box struggled against ZEPS, but at least Microsoft still had money, strong technical resources, increasing developer support, and enough determination to keep fighting. i-Play had entered an already brutal market without enough advantages to justify its existence.

Seamus shrugged. "Honestly, I'm more surprised they lasted this long."

Meanwhile, inside Apple's offices, the mood was considerably worse.

Steve Jobs sat in a meeting room with Zanki while several financial reports lay across the table. Unlike Microsoft, where discussions still revolved around how to compete, what games to release, and where opportunities might appear, Apple's conversation had become much simpler.

How much longer were they willing to lose money?

Jobs rubbed his forehead.

"The shareholders aren't happy with i-Play."

Zanki sat across from him with his arms folded.

Jobs continued, "Sales aren't where we need them. Software revenue isn't enough. Development costs continue rising. Marketing costs continue rising. And the longer ZEPS 4 stays this strong, the harder it becomes to justify pouring more money into this division."

Zanki frowned but didn't look surprised.

Jobs looked at him. "They're pushing for us to stop."

Zanki released a long sigh.

"Like I've said before, Mr. Jobs... making a video-game console isn't easy anymore."

Jobs remained silent.

"ZAGE already dominates most of the market. Sonaya is still established. And now even X-Box is far ahead of us."

Zanki leaned back.

"It can't really be helped if the shareholders are thinking that way."

Jobs narrowed his eyes slightly. "You sound very calm about this."

"Because I expected it."

"Expected us to fail?"

"I expected this possibility."

Zanki shrugged. "Honestly, if Apple wants to stop, then stop."

Jobs studied him.

"You really have given up, haven't you?"

Zanki didn't immediately respond.

That silence answered the question anyway.

Working with Apple had sounded much better when the partnership began. Zanki had believed ZUSUGA's gaming knowledge combined with Apple's resources could create something strong enough to establish another position in the console industry.

Instead, dealing with Apple had become exhausting.

Different priorities.

Different management styles.

Shareholder pressure.

Constant arguments about costs.

And above all else...

ZAGE.

Every time i-Play found some small opportunity, ZAGE seemed to introduce something else. Better games. Better online features. Stronger hardware support. More developer tools. Another strange Zaboru project.

Then Microsoft arrived and somehow managed to become a more convincing alternative than i-Play almost immediately.

Zanki was tired.

Steve Jobs exhaled slowly. "Honestly, I don't think we can outshine X-Box anymore either."

Zanki looked at him.

Jobs clearly hated admitting that.

"I had hoped i-Play could become another pillar for Apple. Something outside normal computers. But we keep spending more while the distance between us and everyone else gets worse."

He looked toward another document.

"And I have other things I want Apple focusing on."

"Such as?"

"Portable computers."

Zanki raised an eyebrow.

Jobs continued, "Smaller machines. Better laptops. More refined personal devices. I think there's considerably more room for us there than continuing to throw money into a console war we're losing."

Zanki nodded slowly.

That sounded more like the Steve Jobs he knew.

Jobs then tapped the i-Play report.

"So... unless something changes dramatically, I think the i-Play division will be shut down."

There was no dramatic reaction from Zanki.

No anger.

No desperate attempt to convince him otherwise.

He simply nodded.

"Alright."

Jobs frowned slightly.

"That's it?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Most people react more strongly when a project they've spent years on is about to be killed."

Zanki shrugged. "I already knew it was dying."

Jobs stared at him before eventually sighing.

"The problem is the employees."

Zanki's expression changed slightly.

"Most of Apple's dedicated game-development employees came through your side of the partnership," Jobs continued. "If we dissolve the gaming division, I'm not keeping all of them inside Apple. You'll have to decide what to do with the ZUSUGA people."

Zanki rubbed his forehead.

"All right, all right..."

Some could return directly to ZUSUGA.

Others could be reassigned.

Some might simply have to find other work.

Zanki wasn't particularly sentimental about the i-Play division itself anymore, but dealing with hundreds of displaced employees was still going to become an annoying logistical problem.

Steve Jobs looked toward him. "You're really done with games, aren't you?"

Zanki remained silent for a moment before giving a tired smile.

"Maybe."

That answer was more honest.

He wasn't saying he would never touch another game-related business again, but competing directly in the console market had drained most of his enthusiasm.

Zaboru could have it.

Sonaya could have it.

Microsoft could keep fighting them if they wanted.

Zanki had other things to do.

By the time the meeting ended, there was still no official public announcement. i-Play continued existing, its stores remained open, and customers could still buy the system normally.

But inside Apple?

Its future was basically decided.

The question was no longer whether i-Play could defeat ZEPS 4.

It wasn't even whether i-Play could defeat X-Box.

The question was simply how long Apple would keep the division alive before finally pulling the plug.

Later that evening, Zanki returned home.

And surprisingly, i-Play barely remained in his thoughts.

He wasn't lying awake wondering how he could save the console.

He wasn't creating desperate new game plans.

He wasn't preparing some enormous marketing counterattack.

Instead, his mind had already moved somewhere else.

Mitsubishi.

Toshiba.

Several proposals involving other sectors of ZUSUGA.

Manufacturing.

Technology.

Businesses where he believed there was still room to grow without constantly fighting against Zaboru Renkonan's absurd entertainment empire.

Zanki loosened his collar and sat down.

"Enough games..."

A small grin slowly appeared on his face.

Maybe losing i-Play wasn't really the disaster everyone expected it to be.

Maybe it was simply the excuse he needed to finally move ZUSUGA's attention somewhere else.

As far as he was concerned, Apple could shut the entire thing down.

And judging by what he had just heard from Steve Jobs...

Within another month or two, i-Play would probably disappear completely.

To be continued.