The moment ZAGE's ZGB advertisement aired across American television, a wave of excitement swept the country. Viewers were stunned, intrigued, and absolutely captivated. The commercial felt like something out of science fiction, featuring high-quality visuals, catchy music, and a tone that perfectly blended humor, energy, and charm. For many, it was more than an ad—it was a cultural moment.
"This is insane! Zaboru just created something straight out of sci-fi!" exclaimed one tech blogger in a now-viral reaction video. Others on community forums and newspaper boards echoed the excitement, stunned that a portable device could run such expansive games like Pokémon and Super Mario Bros. Deluxe. The fact that it operated entirely on battery power, without needing a plug, made it feel like something from the future.
Pokémon, in particular, stole the spotlight. The concept of catching creatures, training them, and evolving them over time immediately struck a chord with American gamers. It wasn't just a game—it was an adventure, a world to dive into. And the tagline, "Gotta Catch Them All," quickly became a mantra for excited fans.
In fact, a small number of early adopters had already imported ZGB units from Japan. Even though the devices were entirely in Japanese, the buzz surrounding them turned these lucky owners into mini-celebrities in the gaming community. After the American ad aired, those who already had their hands on a ZGB Japan were suddenly in the spotlight, with friends and strangers alike eager to see the handheld in action and ask endless questions about the games, especially Pokémon.
Beyond the average consumer, tech-savvy individuals began to fixate on something more subtle yet equally revolutionary: the Z-batteries. The idea that a portable console could deliver nearly ten hours of gameplay on a single pair of special batteries stunned engineers and hobbyists alike.
"What on earth is in those Z-batteries?" one tech engineer muttered to his colleague, eyes wide with disbelief. "They make our lithium cells look like AA toys." His friend nodded eagerly, adjusting his glasses. "I have no idea, but the moment I get my hands on one, I'm breaking it down. I need to see what kind of tech ZAGE is hiding in there."
Curiosity turned to fascination. Questions and curiosity for dissecting the ZGB's capabilities increase. Some speculated on new chemical compositions for the batteries. Others theorized that ZAGE might be using breakthrough low-power chips and memory systems. Whatever the case, one thing was certain—Zaboru had done something extraordinary.
Meanwhile, in a sleek office in downtown Los Angeles, Hikaru Kurata—CEO and majority shareholder of Sonaya—watched the commercial silently from a flatscreen mounted on the wall. The room around him buzzed with quiet tension. Executives waited for his reaction.
He said nothing. He simply stared.
Hikaru had been in the U.S. for a week, preparing for the release of Sonaya's own upcoming projects. Though he already had a ZGB unit smuggled in from Japan, the ad struck him harder than expected. The production value, the emotional pull, the marketing genius behind it—it was overwhelming.
There's nothing I or Sonaya can do to match this, he thought. Zaboru… you really are something else.
He sighed quietly and leaned back in his chair. Junpei Hoshida—head of Sonaya's game division—had long warned him not to chase ZAGE head-on. "We can't overtake ZAGE," Junpei had said. "Not as long as Zaboru is leading them. Our goal should be to keep pace, not overtake."
At first, Kurata had found that logic frustrating. He had always been a competitive man. But now, after seeing the full impact of ZGB on American soil, he understood. He had tasted bitter defeat time and time again. Now, second place no longer felt like failure—it was a means of survival.
Back at Emerald Wings, the mood couldn't have been more different.
Ryan and James were practically dancing in their seats. Orders were flooding in. Retailers were contacting them nonstop. Every major store chain had pre-orders queued for October 26th, and the buzz was only growing.
"This… this is unbelievable," Ryan said, staring at the latest sales data on his documents.
James leaned back in his chair and laughed. "The best decision we ever made was signing with ZAGE. Zaboru didn't just give us a product—he gave us a future."
Ryan nodded. "And a damn good one at that. We have to keep this momentum going. I want Emerald Wings to be the strongest partner ZAGE has worldwide."
"Then we better start planning for the Christmas season," James added.
"Absolutely. Let's ride this rocket."
Across the nation, stores scrambled to prepare for the launch. Big-box retailers, independent game shops, even toy chains began receiving calls nonstop. Parents, kids, teens, collectors—everyone wanted a ZGB.
Some fans, like Leo Garrick, were already camping outside select stores. Others were organizing online forums to trade early impressions and plan game strategies. Pokémon had already taken over fan art communities and inspired new roleplay forums overnight.
It was clear: ZAGE had struck gold. And as the buzz continued to grow, one question remained on everyone's lips:
"What will Zaboru and ZAGE do next?"
To be continued.