"Hello, Ms. Matsuhiro, my name is David Weber. I'm a member of FIFA's Executive Committee. It's a pleasure to meet you."
FIFA's headquarters was located in France, long hailed as the romantic capital of the world—home to beautiful cityscapes, rich cultural heritage, and globally iconic landmarks like the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre.
In this parallel world, such landmarks were much the same as in the original world, including their names. The only difference lay in who had built or designed them.
But Matsuhiro wasn't in the mood to enjoy the romance of this country. Her focus was entirely on business.
To her, career success meant far more than so-called romance. In fact, success in her career was her romance.
Dressed in a sharp, professional outfit, Matsuhiro carried both the unique grace of an Eastern woman and the strength of a modern one—a rare example of a true career powerhouse.
Before her arrival, David Weber had already looked into her background.
She was a truly remarkable woman who, through a twist of fate, had joined Gamestar Electronic Entertainment and, through her relentless efforts, helped rapidly expand its business empire.
...
If Takayuki was the soul of the company, then Matsuhiro was undoubtedly its backbone—an essential figure.
Gamestar's rise to global prominence within just ten years couldn't have happened without her contributions.
So when Matsuhiro reached out to arrange a meeting and discuss licensing, David treated it with the utmost importance, personally welcoming her.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Weber. I believe you already know the purpose of my visit," Matsuhiro said.
David nodded with a smile. "Indeed, we've been informed, and I've already discussed it with the other committee members. They're all very interested in the licensing partnership you proposed."
"Then let's not waste time," Matsuhiro replied. "Let's move on to deeper discussions."
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, David led her to a conference room, where several other FIFA officials were already waiting.
As Matsuhiro entered, the officials rose to greet her with warm smiles.
After all, this guest had come bearing money.
Up until now, FIFA hadn't had many opportunities to venture into the gaming world. Mostly because they didn't understand the industry and were hesitant to jump into an unfamiliar field.
But that didn't mean they weren't paying attention.
Gamestar had already proven the commercial potential of sports games—licensing for NBA, tennis, racing, and more had brought mutual profit and exposure. A true win-win.
So recently, FIFA had also become interested in entering the gaming space.
They just hadn't found the right opportunity—until now.
And with Gamestar—the top game company in the world—coming to them, of course they welcomed it.
This meant they could outsource all the hard work. All they had to do was provide naming rights, sit back, and enjoy the profits and brand exposure.
Matsuhiro, accompanied by two assistants, sat at one end of the long table. At the other end were several FIFA committee members, ranging in age from around forty to seventy.
After a few polite exchanges, Matsuhiro presented a proposal document—one that Takayuki himself had prepared in advance.
It outlined the complete plan for developing a football game, leaving no detail overlooked.
From a professional standpoint, it almost read as if Takayuki were a seasoned football manager, with each data point clearly explained.
In truth, he'd simply written it from a programmer's perspective.
The officials began to read the proposal carefully, nodding occasionally in approval of various sections.
Matsuhiro provided commentary as they read, elaborating on the company's global influence, FIFA's current brand value, and the projected benefits of collaboration. It painted a very appealing picture of the future.
But these were just appetizers—the real focus was the licensing fee and the finer details of future cooperation.
These key points were at the back of the document.
When the officials finally reached those pages and saw Gamestar's offer, their eyes lit up.
$300 million for a 10-year license. The first five years would be paid upfront in cash, with the remainder paid annually or in a lump sum—flexible terms.
With a single nod, FIFA could instantly receive $150 million in cash.
Several officials began subtly sizing up Matsuhiro, clearly impressed.
They hadn't expected the other party to be so bold—offering to pay in full cash, not promissory notes. This was a strong show of sincerity.
They were very satisfied, though they kept calm, smiling politely and refraining from showing too much enthusiasm.
"Ms. Matsuhiro," one official finally said, "This is a very impressive proposal. It's beneficial for both sides. Honestly, I can't think of a reason not to move forward."
Matsuhiro remained composed on the outside, but was inwardly pleased.
This meant the proposal had essentially been accepted—negotiations would go smoothly from here.
"Gentlemen," she replied, "Shall we finalize the deal now?"
"Not so fast," said an older, more composed FIFA official in his seventies. "Deals of this magnitude—hundreds of millions of dollars—deserve caution. We must proceed carefully."
Matsuhiro looked at him and nodded. "We understand. But the sooner we finalize the agreement, the sooner FIFA can begin collecting revenue—and we can launch our promotional campaign and get development underway. It's a win-win if we move quickly."
The elder official replied, "Yes, I understand—and I'm very satisfied with this proposal. But rules are rules. However, rest assured, Ms. Matsuhiro—we're very serious about this collaboration. That much, I promise. An organization of our size would never go back on its word."
Matsuhiro had anticipated this. As long as they were satisfied, that was enough.
"How long do you need to finalize things?" she asked.
"One week," the official replied. "Give us one week."
"Very well. Then here's to a successful partnership."
"A successful partnership," they echoed.
Both parties rose and shook hands.