"Brother! Brother! Calm down! Calm down!"
The moment Don Valentine finished speaking, Nolan Bushnell sprang up beside him. One hand gripped Don's shoulder, the other patted his back in quick succession.
"Brother, calm down—we're here to discuss. Look, Ethan's attitude has been good since he came in. No matter how we questioned him or vented, he stayed restrained. I think he's trying to show his willingness to communicate, right?"
Nolan cast Ethan a meaningful glance. Catching the signal, Ethan lowered his posture and gave a slight nod.
Relief flickered across Nolan's face. He turned back to Don Valentine and continued, "Ethan may have caused us huge financial losses, but since he's willing to talk, why don't we sit down and discuss this properly?
I admit, when I first saw him I was furious—I wanted to strangle him! But we all know violence solves nothing, right? In today's civilized society, nobody does things that barbaric anymore."
His words only made Don Valentine glare at Ethan with even more venom.
"Tch!" He snorted, shook Nolan's hand off with force, and spat:
"Fxxk you!"
Then he stormed out of the office without a backward glance. A heavy bang echoed through the room as the door slammed shut—his last act of venting his fury.
Nolan exhaled and shook his head at the display. Turning back to Ethan, he spread his hands in helplessness.
"Ethan, I'm sorry. Our emotions got a little extreme just now, but I believe you can understand."
He pulled a pack of Marlboros from the drawer, tapped one out, and held it toward Ethan.
When Ethan didn't take it, Nolan stuck it in his own mouth, lit up, and inhaled deeply. A pale-blue stream of smoke curled upward before he let out a weary sigh.
"Ethan, you know… a few months ago Atari reached a settlement with Magnavox. We paid them hundreds of thousands, and agreed not to release any self-developed games for a year."
He exhaled another smoke ring and leaned back. "In that situation, Atari's survival is hanging by a thread. There's barely any money left in the company accounts—we're teetering on bankruptcy. That's why I asked Steve, who had just come back, to gather intel on our competitors. Because if any of them came out with a hit game, Atari would be finished overnight."
His tone softened. "I can't help it. Business has always been this cruel. But…"
He tapped the cigarette against the ashtray. The fragile column of ash collapsed instantly, and a pale-red ember glowed.
"…then Steve discovered you. And you brought us Snake Game. That was a huge surprise."
Nolan Bushnell looked at Ethan with a smile. "To be honest, we've been very grateful to you these past few months. Sure, we've had conflicts—our first negotiations weren't exactly pleasant—but business is business. Everyone's goal is to secure greater benefits for themselves. There was never any intention to target you.
And precisely because neither of us harbored bad intentions, our cooperation turned out to be so smooth, don't you think?"
He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he rolled the cigarette between his fingers and continued:
"We believed in you, so after the first round of sales, we settled your share immediately. We believed in you, so we sought your opinion on distribution. We believed in you, so after the second round of sales, we even called you in to review the accounts yourself.
But today… this caught us completely off guard."
At that, Nolan stubbed out his cigarette. Folding his arms, he leaned forward over the table, his expression a mix of weariness and calculation.
"Ethan, do you know how we felt when Magnavox's indictment landed on our desk? It was like the sky had fallen. We couldn't understand how this happened. We couldn't understand why you—a former Magnavox employee—would make such a mistake.
We wanted to reach you immediately, to hear the truth directly from you. But we searched all afternoon and couldn't find you. So when you finally answered the phone… yes, maybe we were anxious, and yes, some of the words that came out were harsher than they should've been.
For that, I apologize. And on Don's behalf, I'll apologize too. You know his situation—he poured his life's savings into Atari. If the company collapses, then all his years of effort go up in smoke.
We're all smart men here, so I trust you understand what I'm saying. Since you've told us this might be a misunderstanding, I'll choose to believe you one more time. I hope you'll communicate clearly with Magnavox when you go back. Try to reach an agreement. After all… everyone just wants to make money, right?"
Nolan sighed, forcing a stiff smile. "At the same time, I hope you understand us too. We've suspended the payment of the second round of dividends. Nobody knows how this case will unfold, and until it's resolved… well, I'm sorry."
Ethan looked at him for a long moment, then gave a polite, formulaic smile. Without a word, he turned and left Atari.
The moment he was gone, Don Valentine stepped back into the office. The two men exchanged glances—then burst out laughing.
"How was I?" Don asked.
"Perfect, brother!" Nolan gave a thumbs-up. "When you yelled at Ethan, I thought you were actually going to punch him! Especially when you shouted, 'Ethan, don't you want to talk about the law? Then go to jail!'—your face was so fierce, I almost believed it myself. I really thought you'd hit him!"
"Hahaha!" Don Valentine was delighted by Nolan Bushnell's compliment.
"If you think I'm fierce, just wait until Ethan comes back. The pressure you put on him was just as strong—he didn't even get a word in!"
"Of course!" Nolan chuckled, puffing up with pride. "My acting skills could win an award in Hollywood, you know."
Then his tone shifted as he circled back. "Still, this ties back to Magnavox's lawsuit. They're claiming a million from us—and another million from Ethan and his group. Clever move, filing separately. It's all about money! Ethan can't possibly afford it, so in the end, he'll have no choice but to sell Snake Game to us…"
The drive from Palo Alto to Los Gatos was short. When Ethan returned to his new home, he shut the door behind him and collapsed onto the freshly bought sofa.
The soft cushions only reminded him how sore and drained his body felt. Surrounded by the heavy silence and darkness, a chill crept through him.
He couldn't understand how things had spiraled this far.
He couldn't understand why it all happened so suddenly.
Magnavox—who hadn't contacted him in months—was suddenly dragging him into court? Were they insane?
If he had truly infringed, wouldn't a cease-and-desist letter have been enough? Why smash him with the iron fist of the law, like out of nowhere?
Ethan couldn't figure it out. What stung even more than the lawsuit was Atari's behavior tonight.
Don Valentine and Nolan Bushnell's so-called "performance" was laughably clumsy. Their real aim was obvious: dump the entire responsibility for Snake Game onto him.
Yes, in business that sort of maneuver was expected—but the way they cloaked it in fake sincerity, like scoundrels trying to polish their own monument, was revolting.
Talking tough was one thing. Venting emotions was one thing. But afterwards, to pretend it was all helplessness? To act like suspending his dividend payout was something they were forced into?
"Am I the one holding you back? Are you powerless? Please."
From a business standpoint, sure—the decision made sense. But dressing it up in false friendship and excuses only made it worse. Their hypocrisy was unbearable.
Exhaustion, fueled by anger, weighed on him. Before long, Ethan drifted into sleep on the sofa.
When he woke again, a mouthwatering aroma teased his nose, stirring his appetite.
"...?"
He sat up, confused, and noticed the blanket draped over him. Following the scent into the kitchen, he found Evelyn frying eggs.
"You're awake? Go wash up." She glanced back at him with a smile, her hands never pausing. "The eggs will be ready soon. The bread's toasted, the salad's done, and there's milk too."
At the same time, she cracked a joke. "If Linda saw us eating this for breakfast, she'd definitely be upset, right? But what can I do? This is all I know how to make."
Ethan didn't answer her teasing. Instead, he asked the question weighing on his mind. "When did you come?"
Evelyn froze for a moment, then smiled and shook her head.
"Last night."
"Last night?" Ethan's confusion only deepened.
"Yes, last night." Evelyn sighed. "The doors to our villas face each other. You left shortly after I got home—how could I not notice? I didn't know where you went, but you didn't come back until after midnight. I hadn't even turned on the lights yet when I came over and found you lying on the sofa. Oh, and don't worry—I didn't break in. I just used your spare key."
Her tone was light, almost playful.
Ethan smiled and shook his head. "Oh… not really." He pursed his lips. "Thank you."
He started, "Evelyn, last night I—"
But she cut him off. "Go wash up first. We'll talk after. Bread tastes best when it's warm. Cold, it loses all its flavor."
Ethan accepted her suggestion and went upstairs to shower and brush his teeth.
When he returned to the dining room, he began recounting the events of the previous night over breakfast.
As soon as Evelyn heard that Ethan had gone to Atari, she nodded. After listening through the whole story—Atari's problems, their attitude, and Don Valentine's threats—she dabbed her lips with a tissue and smiled.
"Seems Barbara really does know her stuff. She guessed it all already. Since she sees through everything, I won't rush. Isn't this just a lawsuit? Happens all the time back home. Even a traffic violation can land someone in court. I still have classes today, so you should go find her later. I trust her."
Ethan understood his sister was trying not to let the pressure get to her. He smiled, nodded, and, after tidying up the house, drove back to Stanford.
He found Barbara in a law school classroom, slipped into the back, and quietly listened. The women's protection course she was teaching had nothing to do with him, but her confident presence alone was reassuring.
After class, Barbara waved him over to help carry a stack of casebooks from the podium back to her office. Once seated behind her desk, she listened intently to Ethan's story.
Because he'd already gone through it with Evelyn that morning, his account flowed quickly. But that clarity didn't please Barbara.
"Ethan."
"Mm?"
"Old problem."
"What?"
"You're talking too fast." She tapped the desk. "Ethan, you need to remember—our country uses common law. It's not like civil law systems that strictly follow codes.
Much of what we argue here relies on precedent and experience. That means every little detail matters. Maybe something that seems trivial to you could tell me whether Magnavox's lawsuit or Atari's response is out of the ordinary. And right now, that's what we're looking for—the anomaly. Because we still don't know why Magnavox suddenly sued you."
Ethan nodded firmly, fell silent, and carefully replayed every moment in his mind. This time, he told the story in full detail.
Barbara listened, frowning, scratching her head until her features twisted with frustration. At last she said uneasily,
"Ethan…"
"Yeah?"
"Did you offend Atari too?"
"Why do you say that?" Ethan looked baffled.
Her expression grew strange. She clasped her hands, closed her eyes halfway, and tapped her temple with her finger as though casting a spell—or forcing herself to think.
"Ethan, honestly—if you haven't left anything out, then this case is just too strange. Based on your description, both parties—Magnavox and Don Valentine—are behaving abnormally. Magnavox doesn't act like a proper plaintiff, and Don Valentine doesn't look like a proper defendant. Do you see what I mean?"
"…" Ethan shook his head. He truly didn't.
Seeing his confusion, Barbara slapped the table, pulled out a blank sheet of paper, and declared: "Ethan, forget the law for now. Let's do a Q&A. Once we sort things out, maybe we'll find the answer. It might be right, it might be wrong, but that doesn't matter. The important thing is to start finding the cracks."
She uncapped her pen, narrowed her eyes, and looked at him seriously. "So, first question: tell me your feelings toward Magnavox. More directly—did you have any conflicts with them when you worked there?"