After parting ways with Tazuna Hayakawa, Sakuraba began looking into how to pour money into a gacha game about Oguri Cap.
The idea had a wonderfully strong whiff of losing money about it.
First of all, since it was a game about Umamusume, it would naturally need Umamusume to compete in its races.
And if he wanted to use the likenesses of famous real-life Umamusume, he would have to get permission from the athletes themselves.
Naturally, permission meant money.
The more famous the Umamusume, the more it would cost to license her likeness.
And once the money was paid, if the game failed to make a profit, that meant a loss.
In other words…
As long as Sakuraba dragged a whole pile of famous Umamusume into the game project, the licensing fees alone would add up to an impressive sum.
At a glance, it looked like it could lose him a fortune!
And it was the kind of loss that would keep on going!
After all, every year, the world produced large numbers of famous Umamusume athletes. If he added all those famous athletes to his game project, he would have to spend an astronomical amount on licensing every single year.
How much money could that lose? Sakuraba did not even dare imagine it!
And the most outrageous part was that if Sakuraba actually managed to make this game, it would basically become a guaranteed long-term ticket to losing money.
That was exactly why Sakuraba was so motivated to push the project forward.
Because once it succeeded, he would not have to worry about his loss quota for a very long time.
So, how was he supposed to get this project off the ground?
First, Sakuraba needed to find a reliable-looking game company to back it.
Then the game itself had to be at least passable in quality.
Neither of these could be missing.
Without a reliable game company helping Sakuraba make the game, his idea would remain nothing more than an idea forever.
And if the finished game’s quality was not up to standard, the Umamusume might not be willing to license their likenesses to it.
So the most important problem before Sakuraba was how to handle those two points…
As for which game company he should choose to make it, Sakuraba already had an answer in mind…
Satono Company!
Yes, that was right. Sakuraba had once again set his sights on Satono Company.
In the past, he had proven his ability to Satono Company and obtained startup capital from them, which allowed him to establish his own talent agency.
Although that talent agency later went bankrupt, before it collapsed, Sakuraba had fully repaid Satono’s investment.
Even though his assets had been reduced to zero, his relationship with Satono Company was not especially bad in practice.
They were not creditor and debtor.
So, obviously, there was still room for cooperation between Sakuraba and Satono Company.
Satono Company’s main business was games.
In Japan, the games and game consoles they developed sold extremely well, and on a global scale, plenty of people were willing to pay for the games they produced.
They could be called a giant with truly formidable strength.
Although Satono Company—or rather, the Satono family—also had Umamusume competing on the racetrack, compared with their achievements in the gaming field, their achievements with Umamusume were hardly worth mentioning.
The reason Sakuraba chose to work with Satono Company was naturally because he trusted that Satono Company could make a game of sufficient quality.
And since Satono Company’s name carried enough weight in the gaming field, it would be much easier to persuade famous Umamusume to join the project.
“Looks like it’s time to visit Satono Company again!”
For the sake of his grand plan to lose money!
He absolutely had to convince President Satono to make this game for him!
…
Sakuraba soon arrived beneath the familiar modern building of Satono Company.
The glass curtain wall reflected the afternoon sunlight, and the building’s clean, cold lines looked exactly as he remembered.
Since this was not his first time here, he was especially familiar with the place. He passed straight through the revolving doors and stepped into the spacious, brightly lit lobby on the first floor.
The lobby was still filled with people coming and going, and the air carried an atmosphere of efficient calm.
Sakuraba walked to the front desk and gave the female receptionist a composed smile.
“Hello. I’d like to see your company president, Mr. Satono.”
He provided his name and identifying information, his tone calm but assured.
“Please inform him that… Sakuraba Ryo has a project concerning Umamusume and games, and would like to discuss it with him face-to-face.”
When the receptionist heard Sakuraba’s name, her eyes seemed to shift slightly.
Clearly, that name was not entirely unfamiliar within Satono Company.
She nodded politely, quickly searched for and confirmed Sakuraba’s information in the system, then picked up the internal phone.
Sakuraba stood quietly to the side and waited, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly on the marble counter.
His expression appeared relaxed, but his mind was rapidly reviewing the arguments he would need to present shortly, and how to package the core concept of losing money into a long-term plan alluring enough to make even a business giant like Satono’s eyes light up.
Before long, the receptionist set down the phone and turned toward Sakuraba. Her face wore a professional smile, but her tone had become somewhat more respectful than before.
“Sakuraba-san, the president is waiting for you in his office. Please take the private elevator directly to the top floor. A secretary will meet you at the elevator.”
“Thank you.”
Sakuraba nodded, then turned and walked toward the elevators.
His steps remained steady, but a sharp glint passed through his eyes.
Games, licensing, long-term losses…
The blueprint for it all was finally about to begin.
And the President Satono he was about to face was, without question, the final boss of this plan. As long as Sakuraba could convince him, his long-term meal ticket for losing money would be secured!
The elevator rose smoothly. When its doors opened, a female secretary in a dark skirt suit, her makeup neat and proper, was already waiting to the side.
She gave Sakuraba a slight bow and politely led the way. Her heels struck the polished floor with crisp, regular clicks.
After passing through an open, simply furnished corridor, the secretary stopped before a heavy solid-wood door.
She knocked softly, then pushed it open and stepped aside, making an inviting gesture to Sakuraba.
“President, Sakuraba-san has arrived.”
Sakuraba drew in a deep breath and stepped inside.
The president’s office was spacious and bright, with enormous floor-to-ceiling windows that took in the Tokyo skyline.
The room’s furnishings were not elaborate, but every detail carried a sense of quality and weight.
Behind the broad office desk, President Satono set down the documents in his hand and raised his head.
It was still the same sharply defined, composed face of a man tempered by the ups and downs of the business world, his gaze keen and deep.
When he saw Sakuraba, a faint, somewhat amused smile appeared on his face.
“Sakuraba-kun. It really has been a long time.”
President Satono’s voice was not loud, but it carried the composure of someone accustomed to being in control.
“I never imagined that the young man who once came here with a proposal in hand to ask me for startup capital, after going through bankruptcy liquidation, would transform into the investor behind Oguri Cap, the most talked-about Umamusume of the moment… Life is unpredictable, isn’t it?”
Sakuraba walked up to the desk and calmly accepted the other man’s scrutiny, returning it with an impeccable smile.
“President Satono, it has been a long time. I’m grateful for the care you showed me back then, and for the leniency you later extended.”
The two exchanged a few simple pleasantries. The atmosphere seemed peaceful, but subtle appraisal and probing were hidden beneath it.
President Satono was clearly waiting for Sakuraba to explain why he had come, and Sakuraba had no intention of beating around the bush.
He let his smile fade, leaned slightly forward, and placed both hands on the smooth desktop, meeting President Satono’s gaze directly.
“President, I won’t waste time on formalities. I came here because I’d like to cooperate with your company on a project.”
“A mobile gacha game themed around Umamusume, combining character development, race competition, and strategic team-building.”
He enunciated the final words clearly, watching the other man’s reaction, then continued in a swift, forceful voice.
“My vision is that if we do this, we do it at the very top level, and we do it properly.”
“That means every Umamusume character appearing in the game must receive formal authorization from the athlete herself or the relevant rights holder.”
“We will assemble a truly luxurious roster of Umamusume, from historic greats to current stars, covering as many as possible.”
“Of course, whether it’s the cost of game development or the licensing fees for the Umamusume, I will primarily bear the expenses.”
“Satono Company, with its top-tier strength and reputation in game development, will be responsible for the game’s production, operation, and publishing.”
“And of course, I will pay you compensation sufficient to satisfy you.”
Sakuraba’s explanation was clear and compelling. He described the enormous capital investment as a necessary expense for building a content barrier, and packaged the potential risks of long-term operation as a forward-looking strategy to seize the digital ecosystem of the Umamusume IP.
On the surface, this seemed to be a collaboration in which the risks were mainly borne by Sakuraba, while Satono Company provided the technology, reputation, and channels, gaining steady development revenue and potential brand enhancement in return.
President Satono listened quietly to the end, his fingers tapping the desk lightly in a steady rhythm. His sharp gaze seemed able to pierce through the surface of Sakuraba’s words and look directly at the essence of the plan.
He did not immediately evaluate the project itself. Instead, he asked a more fundamental question.
“Sakuraba-kun, your blueprint sounds grand, and the logic seems to hold together… however.”
He paused slightly, his voice steady and pressuring.
“Why should I believe that a model built on continuously paying enormous licensing fees can actually work? And why should I trust that a game like this—even if it is well made—will inevitably succeed in the market, rather than be dragged down by its high fixed costs and ultimately fail without a sound?”
He leaned back slightly, his gaze burning bright.
“Satono Company’s name does not only represent technology. It also represents our cautious evaluation of the success rate of the projects we cooperate on.”
“We can take on development, but if a game we participate in producing and put our name on ends in failure, even if the main losses are not ours, it will still consume our reputation.”
“Passion and resolve are precious qualities in an entrepreneur, but in the business world, those alone are not enough.”
Sakuraba met his gaze without the slightest retreat.
He knew this was the most critical moment.
He straightened his back, his voice firm.
“President, I cannot guarantee success with absolute certainty, because any innovation and any foresight comes with uncertainty.”
“But what I can guarantee is that I alone will bear all financial risk.”
“If the game succeeds, Satono Company will gain not only development compensation, but also a strategic first-mover position in an emerging IP with enormous potential.”
“If the game fails… then that is a failure in judgment on my part, Sakuraba Ryo. It has nothing to do with Satono Company’s development ability. I will shoulder the losses alone.”
He paused. A nearly stubborn light burned in his eyes.
“That is my resolve. For the future I believe in, I am willing to stake everything I have.”
The office fell silent for a moment, with only the faint noise of the city beyond the window.
President Satono looked deeply at Sakuraba. His gaze was complicated, as though he were weighing the determination of the young man before him, as well as that indescribable… possibility.
“I can feel your resolve, Sakuraba-kun.”
President Satono spoke slowly. His tone was still steady, but now it carried a hint of decision.
“But as I said, your resolve alone is still not enough for Satono Company. We need a firmer guarantee. Or rather… a clearer binding of responsibility.”
He folded his hands on the desk and leaned slightly forward, stating his condition.
“We can cooperate. Satono Company will develop this game to the highest standard. However, we need a wager agreement.”
“If the game succeeds, then Satono Company will act only as a pure technical partner and operator. We will not interfere with any of your operational decisions or the development direction of the IP. You will have complete autonomy.”
“However.”
His gaze locked firmly onto Sakuraba.
“If the game fails, if it fails to meet the targets set in the agreement, or if for any reason the project becomes effectively impossible to continue… then, as compensation, and as an answer to your resolve to ‘stake everything’—you, Sakuraba Ryo, will need to join the Satono family.”
Not “Satono Company,” but “the Satono family.”
The weight of those words was entirely different.
It meant more than becoming an employee. To some degree, it meant being bound to this business family, and the specific form and binding force of that arrangement would reach far beyond an employment contract.
“You will use the infinite possibilities you may create in the future to pay for the failure of this gamble.”
“At the same time, this will also ensure, to the greatest extent possible, that even in the worst-case scenario, the experience, technology, and even some of the ideas accumulated by this project will not go entirely to waste, but can be put to use by the Satono family.”
“For Oguri Cap to have become the strongest she is today, I imagine you must have played no small part, Sakuraba-kun.”
“I need your ability to shape the strongest. The Satono family’s Umamusume also need talent like you.”
President Satono’s tone was calm, but he stated his thoughts very simply.
“This is the cooperation framework I can offer.”
“Use your future as insurance in exchange for Satono Company’s full commitment.”
“Well, Sakuraba-kun? Do you still have the courage to… place your bet?”
Faced with President Satono’s probing, Sakuraba’s answer was very direct.
“Interesting.”
“But I’m not signing.”
T/N: heh you cant tie our sakuraba down like that!
This is a fan translation of 亏钱赛马娘，什么叫你真的赢比赛了？ by 路边杂鱼 Rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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