Video Game Tycoon in Tokyo-Chapter 763: Sudden Cardiac Arrest

Myron Case had always been exceptionally gifted. From a young age, people around him saw him as a genius among geniuses.

Many families used him as a role model when talking to their children.

Although American parents wouldn't say things like, "Look at someone else's kid," the way some cultures might, they would still find similar ways to encourage their kids.

But most kids weren't convinced—proving that, deep down, people think similarly all over the world.

As an adult, Myron didn't just have talent—he also had incredible luck.

He got into Harvard thanks to his abilities and quickly became well-known among students.

But unlike others, he didn't bother with networking or research. Instead, he dropped out and started a business.

This is where his story diverged from that of Steve Jobs.

Jobs worked for other companies first—like Atari—before starting his own.

Myron, on the other hand, became CEO right away. That company was Redfruit.

Everything went smoothly. His ideas were instantly accepted. People around him developed products just the way he envisioned. Everything was easy.

But around 1993, all of that began to fade.

And that was when Takayuki emerged.

At first, Takayuki didn't directly enter the U.S. market. That came later.

But in 1993, some people started bringing quirky Japanese game consoles into the country.

Even those few imported devices became hits in niche circles.

Myron came across one too.

He dismissed it, thinking it was meaningless—not worth his attention.

That was the first time he got slapped in the face by reality.

Because of his arrogance, he missed the rise of video games—and was blindsided by them.

Consoles with powerful performance and fun gameplay quickly captured people's attention.

In the '90s, video games dominated the U.S. market.

Even the Morgan Group felt the pressure.

If Takayuki hadn't reached out to Morgan later, they probably would have tried to suppress Gamestar Electronic Entertainment.

But Myron didn't have someone like Takayuki on his side.

He fell hard.

Video games completely crushed the confidence he'd built up over the years.

His luck was gone.

He faced the biggest failure of his life.

But he was resilient. He got back up, started over, and rose again.

This time, though, he never forgot one name: Takayuki.

From then on, any move Takayuki made—no matter how small—would get Myron's full attention.

And now, Takayuki had shown up at a smartphone launch.

Front row.

Myron couldn't stay calm.

"Why is Takayuki attending Facebook's smartphone launch?"

While staff searched for a TV to start the livestream, Myron frowned and asked the question that troubled him most.

"We looked into it," one staffer said. "It seems Takayuki is a hidden shareholder in Facebook. But it's an industry secret. If he doesn't want it public, insiders don't talk about it."

"What? He's a shareholder? How much?"

"Thirty percent."

"Thirty percent?! Are you joking? Why would Bob let someone hold thirty percent of the shares?!"

Myron was in disbelief.

At some point, Takayuki had become the biggest undisclosed shareholder of the world's largest social media company. That was big news.

"Boss, I wouldn't joke about this. He only holds shares, though—no voting rights. He just profits from the stock. But even that's scary. Facebook is growing rapidly. Those shares could be worth tens of millions soon."

Myron didn't seem to hear the end of that. He only caught the part about Takayuki having no control, which brought him a bit of relief.

"So he's probably just attending the launch as a shareholder?"

The staffer nodded. "That's likely. Boss, you seem pretty focused on Takayuki?"

Myron quickly composed himself. "Not really."

The staffer gave a strange look but said nothing more.

Everyone at Micfo already knew the story.

Myron lost his first company because of Gamestar Electronic Entertainment.

In one interview, he even admitted that the most impressive company of the '90s, in his opinion, was Gamestar.

He held a grudge—but he couldn't deny their dominance.

So most people in the company avoided bringing it up around him, out of respect.

Unaware of their thoughts, Myron stared at the TV screen as it came to life.

Soon, Bob's voice filled the room.

By now, the event was halfway through. Facebook's first smartphone had just been unveiled.

It was called the "Future Phone"—simple and direct. It meant their phone represented the future.

It looked sleek, too.

The phone had an 80% screen-to-body ratio.

Myron felt uneasy.

That was the direction he had hoped to take.

He had envisioned phones with screens covering the entire front. No buttons. No front camera. No speaker cutouts.

But current tech wasn't there yet. So he settled for a lower ratio.

Micfo's MK2 looked like an iPhone 6 with a slightly bigger screen. Stylish, sure.

But Facebook's phone didn't look bad either.

On the back, Bob emphasized the phone's camera as a key feature.

Then came the pricing:

Three models—$399, $499, and $599.

Compared to Micfo's top-tier MK series, which could go up to $1,000, this was cheap. You could buy two Facebook phones for the price of one MK.

It was clear Facebook wanted to target the low-end market. That meant there wouldn't be much direct conflict for now.

Their processor was a custom 28nm chip from another manufacturer—cheap and stable. That helped keep costs down.

Smartphones were still in the early stages. People didn't need top performance yet, so mid-range phones had room to survive.

To Myron, everything so far seemed normal. Nothing too surprising.

He felt a little relieved.

If it was just smartphone competition, he wasn't too worried.

But then...

"Everyone, by now you probably understand our phone pretty well. I imagine it's not too surprising, right?" Bob said during the livestream.

The presentation should've been over.

But then Bob smiled.

"Next, I want to announce a major partnership. This is a bold move for our company."

He looked toward the front row.

Takayuki stood up and walked toward the stage.

"Whoa, who's that? Why are they going up?"

"It's dark—I can't see."

"They're from the front row—must be someone important."

"That seat... I think I recognize it..."

Spotlights turned.

Everyone saw who it was.

Takayuki.

Not someone from the smartphone industry.

But a name everyone recognized.

The leader of the gaming world.

Myron felt like his heart stopped.

The one thing he didn't want to see... had happened.

Takayuki was on stage.

A sense of dread grew stronger in Myron's chest.

The audience buzzed with low murmurs.

Everyone in the industry knew Takayuki.

Video games and smartphones weren't exactly the same field—but both were electronics.

One processor company in the audience had even worked with Takayuki before, building audio chips for the GSX console.

His presence instantly changed the tone of the event.

It was a signal.

Online viewers were fired up.

Gamers especially.

They had tuned in out of curiosity.

But seeing Takayuki? They couldn't contain their excitement.

People started posting on social media:

"Dude, you won't believe who I saw at the launch—Takayuki!"

"Huh? A Takayuki event?"

"No! He's at a smartphone launch! Looks like they're teaming up."

"Send me the link. I need to see this!"

Smartphones and video games.

What kind of fusion could come from that?

No one knew.

There had been gaming phones before.

But those flopped—people laughed them off.

This, though, was different.

Takayuki being here meant something big.

Back at the event, Bob could hear the low murmurs of excitement.

He felt a twinge of envy.

Takayuki's status was still far above his.

Even though Facebook was worth over $100 billion—while Gamestar was estimated around $10–20 billion—Takayuki had more influence.

His name alone had power.

He had been on the cover of Time magazine at least three times—even if not the main issue, that still meant something.

Bob had only been on the cover once—during the explosion of online video that sent Facebook's stock soaring.

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Even then, it was thanks to Takayuki's advice.

Bob didn't feel jealous. He felt lucky.

Lucky to work with Takayuki.

His ideas made industries grow overnight—no investor could offer that.

Bob didn't care how famous Takayuki became.

He hoped he'd get even more famous—so he could ride that wave, too.

Bob smiled and looked at the audience.

"Next, I'm proud to announce: Facebook's latest smartphone will enter a deep partnership with Gamestar Electronic Entertainment. Gamestar will develop multiple exclusive games for our new phone. And several of their classic titles will also be released on our platform. We hope you love it—and we hope gamers love it too."