Although Ethan Jones was full of complaints, deep down he already had a vague idea—though far from mature.
And what was that idea? Legal issues, of course, had to be handled by a lawyer.
But even if Ethan had a clear goal, he didn't want to trouble Barbara just yet. The reason was simple. In modern industry, capitalists exploit workers' surplus value, but financial capital goes a step further—it feeds on the profits of those capitalists, earning huge returns by contributing nothing at all.
If MOS were to promise that once Ethan helped them solve their patent troubles, they would, in turn, grant him protective licensing over the 6502—say, exclusive production rights for a year—then Ethan would be more motivated than anyone else to safeguard his own interests.
But, judging from the way those people thought, wasn't that kind of thing impossible?
So, Ethan decided to wait. Wait for MOS to resolve the problem themselves. Wait until everyone could sit down and enjoy the feast together once it was over.
He admitted it—he was just that vulgar. He was willing to contribute to changing the world, yes. But before that— At least let me sip some of the dipp, right?
Since Woz had nothing going on for the moment, and Jobs's grand vision hadn't made much progress either, Ethan decided to leave. Better not to play the third wheel around Woz, who was still single, and better not to sit around with sulky old Jobs staring at him.
When he climbed back into his Chevrolet, Ethan felt as though the past month had been a dream.
On the surface, he had met Woz, bitten into the apple, and was on track to achieve financial freedom within five years.
But in reality? Woz was a good guy, the apple smelled sweet, yet real wealth and freedom were still a long way off.
He had been busy for an entire month, gained plenty of experience, yet not a single project had been finalized.
That fact was frustrating—but Ethan only dwelled on it briefly before letting it go. Life is meant to be enjoyed—why torture yourself? Even if all else failed, he could still make games, couldn't he?
Hey—that was the good thing about knowing the future. There were always plenty of escape routes.
With these thoughts in mind, Ethan decided to head home and copy the next game.
Ah no—design the next game. When he returned home with a smile, the moment he stepped inside he was met with a new surprise.
"Wow! When did you come back?"
In sight was Evelyn, lounging lazily on the sofa in a white dress, chin propped in one hand as she watched TV.
Hearing the unexpected voice, she turned her head. When her eyes landed on the dusty figure at the doorway, she exclaimed in delight:
"Oh Ethan you're finally back!"
Before finishing her sentence, Evelyn jumped up and ran over. Smiling, she opened her arms to hug him—only to recoil two steps backward the moment the sour smell hit her nose.
Covering her nose with one hand and fanning with the other, she cried out in shock:
"Oh! Shit! Ethan, did you go to Mexico for business? Why do you smell like a refugee?"
What Evelyn called "going to Mexico for business" actually referred to the U.S.–Mexico border industrial plan, created to curb illegal immigration.
Back in WWII, when millions of young Americans were drafted, the U.S. faced a severe shortage of agricultural workers. To solve this, the government introduced the Bracero Program, which allowed Mexican farm laborers to work temporarily in the southwestern states.
Mexico welcomed it—it was essentially dollars for labor, helping both its economy and unemployment crisis. So, after the program was signed, millions of temporary workers poured into the U.S.
But after the war, when U.S. soldiers returned home, resentment grew. Locals accused the Mexican laborers of "stealing jobs." Under pressure from anti-immigration groups, the program was eventually shut down after twenty-four years.
Even after deportations, the cheap-labor precedent left behind a toxic environment: American workers rejected exploitative jobs, while capitalists refused to offer better pay. To keep low-end industries running, the U.S. and Mexico launched the border industrialization plan—where America invested in factories on the Mexican side of the border, hiring cheap local labor en masse.
The result, captured in later media photos, was a scene of heaven, hell.
So when Evelyn teased Ethan about "going to Mexico," what she really meant was: he smelled foreign.
Yes, it was discriminatory—but who cared? Ethan, however, immediately frowned.
Sure, he had showered and changed clothes every day over the past month, but summer sweat was inevitable. And this body was white, with more active sweat glands, so—
"Oh, Evelyn! I understand what you mean, but I still have to correct you. Please, watch your words!"
"Get out!" Evelyn shot him a glare, then pointed upstairs. "Go take a shower!"
"I don't…" Ethan tried to argue.
But She raised a gleaming fist and snapped, "Want me to beat you, huh?"
"…Fine, fine, I'll wash."
For the sake of family harmony, Ethan obediently headed upstairs.
About twenty minutes later, freshly showered and clean, he reappeared. Evelyn's smile returned.
"That's better~"
She shifted, patting the sofa beside her to make room. Ethan sat down—but with such a poker face it practically read: No strangers allowed.
Seeing the situation, Evelyn grabbed a bag of Lay's potato chips and a bottle of Happy Water from the table and handed them over.
When Ethan didn't take them, she simply stuffed the snacks into his hands. "What are you doing? Are you mad at me?"
Ethan still ignored her. That silent act only made Evelyn smile and shake her head. She ran upstairs, then came thumping back down with a bang—this time holding a gift box.
"Here, this is for you. I picked it up on my trip. Thought you might like it."
It was common courtesy in America to bring gifts for family or friends after traveling, but when Ethan opened the box, what he saw inside still made him cry out in shock.
It was just an ordinary T-shirt, printed with the promotional design for the 1975 Seattle Music Festival. But next to the logo was a scrawled, unmistakable signature—Ray Charles.
"Oh, shit! Is this… a Ray Charles signed T-shirt?"
"Yeah~" Evelyn said proudly.
"How did you even get this?"
"I asked for it at the festival. Even though his mobility is limited, he was really enthusiastic. He must have signed over a thousand autographs that day."
Ray Charles was a national icon in America—a multiple Grammy winner and ranked in the top ten of Rolling Stone's "100 Greatest Artists of All Time."
Although Ethan hadn't listened much to his music in his past life, he had seen Ray, the film based on him. Jamie Foxx's performance left a deep impression, and Ethan had loved it.
And now this signed T-shirt—"Oh, thank you." Ethan accepted it with a grin. "This really is a surprise."
"Not mad anymore?" Evelyn snorted twice.
"Was I ever mad?" Ethan blinked innocently, But before she could start scolding him, Ethan quickly shifted the subject, noticing her mood.
"Evelyn, where exactly did you go this time? The gift has me curious about your trip."
The question earned him a dramatic eye-roll. Evelyn kicked him lightly, then stood up and rummaged through the display cabinet.
A moment later, she placed a photo album in his hands. As her fingers brushed across the cover, a smile spread across her face—as if recalling the joys of the past month and savoring them all over again.
"Oh, Ethan~ let me tell you, this trip was amazing! First we went to Seattle for the music festival. Besides Ray, there were so many singers performing there!"
"Look! This is a live photo!!"
"Really, the atmosphere there was incredible. Way better than here in San Francisco! After the show, we walked south along the Colorado River. Look—the scenery here is so beautiful This photo was taken in Arches National Park! How is it? Nice, right?"
The picture Evelyn pointed out showed her standing in front of a towering sandstone arch.
The deep orange rock, formed over 300 million years ago, was one of America's most breathtaking natural landmarks.
photos of the era could never capture the fine textures or the true magnificence of the arch, but that didn't matter.
Because Evelyn's real question wasn't about the scenery at all.
"Yeah, yeah."
After glancing at the photo a couple of times, Ethan nodded firmly.
"It looks amazing—especially that floral dress. It suits you perfectly."
"Oh! I love this dress too!"
Evelyn's said with smile. "I bought it at Gap. Only $9.90."
Her cheerful pride made Ethan grin as well. He nodded, secretly relieved.
As she spoke, Ethan traced her journey in his mind: starting from San Francisco, heading all the way north, then diagonally south, finally looping back along the Arizona coast.
The sheer freedom of roaming across half the United States made him a envious.
When Evelyn finished recounting her adventures, still brimming with excitement, she suddenly turned on Ethan.
"So, what about you? Where exactly did you run off to? You didn't really go to Mexico, did you?"
"Of course not." Ethan denied it flatly. Then, deciding there was no point hiding anything, he explained his routine honestly.
When Evelyn heard that after selling Snake Game shares, Ethan had gone to Hawaii, she gasped in surprise.
"See? I knew it! Inland is nice and all, but nothing beats an island vacation."
But Ethan quickly clarified. "I only relaxed for half a month. The rest of the time I spent building computers with some friends I met. We even came across a CPU that worked well 42 dollar—but it has some patent problems…"
The smile on Evelyn's face froze. Slowly, her brow furrowed.
"…Wait. What did you just say? A forty-two dollar CPU?" Her eyes widened as she stared at Ethan.
"Yeah, what's wrong?" Ethan asked blankly.
"What's wrong?" Evelyn's "Ethan—you're asking me what's wrong? I should be the one asking you! Why are you only telling me this now? Why didn't you say something earlier about such a huge deal?"