Support and read on patreon 30+ chapters :
https://www.patreon.com/StylishSlayer
----------------------------------
When Steve Jobs revealed that Atari held the patent authorization for US3728480 A, Ethan Jones felt as though his understanding had suddenly cleared. All the strange, inexplicable behaviors of the past finally connected into a single picture.
First, there had been the Snake Game negotiations a few months earlier. At that time, the world had only just begun to encounter video games.
Hardly anyone understood the processes behind how games ran or how they were displayed. Most people simply believed that Atari had copied Magnavox's work with Pong—with no real awareness of video game patent infringement. Even when Magnavox and Atari went to court, the public only knew that Atari would be unable to release new games for the next year.
What they did not realize was that Atari had effectively traded a year of stagnation for a patent powerhouse. And in this climate of ignorance, Ethan arrived with Snake Game.
For Atari, his appearance was nothing short of a miracle.
Just when they were ready to give up on the market, someone came forward with a new game to cooperate on? That was divine providence!
And when Nolan Bushnell saw the remarkable quality of Snake Game, he must have immediately thought of acquiring it. Otherwise, why would Don Valentine bring up a 99-year licensing contract during negotiations?
At the time, Ethan thought they were simply demanding an outrageous price and waiting for him to bargain it down. That was why he leaned on Stanford's backing and pretended to be tough, eventually signing a one-year licensing deal.
But looking at it now… it had all been deliberate! The length of the authorization period didn't matter to them at all. They knew better than anyone that as long as Snake Game was sold, it would be an infringing product. As soon as Ethan entrusted it to them, they could just sit back and wait for Magnavox to drag him into court.
And that led to the second step—what was unfolding now. With Magnavox suing both Ethan and Atari, Ethan was bound to lose. He had no choice but to pay. Nobody could win this case.
For Nolan Bushnell and Don Valentine, Ethan's resignation was the perfect opportunity. By shifting all responsibility for the infringement onto Ethan—the very man who had admitted it—they could play the victim. They could sue him for damages and demand that he bear the full weight of the losses.
And that sum would be astronomical. After all, nearly 10,000 units of Snake Game had already been sold!
Even if Atari showed "mercy" and only asked Ethan Jones to cover their losses, he could never afford it. And since Ethan couldn't possibly pay the sky-high compensation, the third step—the one Atari had been hoping for all along—would inevitably come into play.
If you can't pay in cash, then you pay with something else.
And what was Ethan Jones's most valuable asset? Snake Game.
After a period of tug-of-war, both parties would almost certainly reach an out-of-court settlement. Atari would "reluctantly" accept the infringing work Snake Game as compensation. At the same time, they could quietly pay Magnavox a settlement fee to cover all the profits from the previously released Snake Game machines.
And after this maneuver? Ethan would be forced out of the industry in regret, while Atari, for the cost of a mere one million in compensation, would gain full copyright over Snake Game. A copyright that would generate them exponential profits.
To be honest, when this line of reasoning flashed through Ethan's mind, what he wanted most was to strangle Nolan Bushnell and Don Valentine with his own hands. Had they been eyeing Snake Game from the very beginning?
Of course, even after piecing everything together, Ethan had no intention of acting recklessly. The next day, he went to Barbara and told her everything—both the information Jobs had uncovered and his own deductions.
Hearing the full story allowed Barbara to see the situation with complete clarity. Then she asked: "Ethan, how do you want to deal with this?"
"Prof. Barbara, how can I handle it?" Ethan asked back, hoping for guidance from his "mage."
"Well…" Barbara paused in thought. "Ethan, although we've reconstructed the entire process, what we have is still speculation, not hard evidence.
It only tells us what Atari is really after. If you follow the normal legal process, you'll still lose the case, and you'll still pay compensation. But now, at least, you'll be paying with your eyes open—prepared, not blind. Do you understand what I mean?"
Barbara's eyes locked seriously onto his.
"Yeah!" Ethan smiled and nodded. "I understand. So… we can't follow the normal legal process, right?"
…
That question stunned Barbara for a moment. Then a look of exasperated amusement crossed her face.
"Oh Ethan… I'm a lawyer, a professor. And you're asking me if we can solve a legal problem without legal means? You really are…"
"Then can you at least answer a few questions for me?" Ethan interrupted, grinning. "Just some legal ones."
"That's fine." Barbara brightened again and nodded. "So, what do you want to know?"
Since the matter seemed almost foregone, she even made a dark little joke—
"For example: what's the penalty for illegally breaking into someone's home and shooting them in the head?"
"Or: how many years in prison do you get for gunning someone down on the street?"
"Or: if you commit a string of murders but surrender afterward, would the judge reduce your sentence?"
"Hahaha…" Barbara's macabre metaphors nearly made Ethan fall over laughing.
"Oh Barbara! Do I look like that kind of lunatic to you?"
"Certainly!" Barbara replied with a smile. "With all due respect, I can't think of any way to resolve this matter."
Ethan fully agreed with her—because normal methods could no longer solve these problems. But at the same time, he also knew that beyond legal channels, there was another kind of attack in this world.
One called magic.
When people don't play by the rules, then—as his father used to say—"Magic must be defeated with magic."
Thinking of this, the smile on Ethan's lips widened. He straightened in his chair and asked, "Barbara, my first question is this: after Magnavox sues me, but before I submit my defense, can they withdraw the lawsuit?"
Sidley Austin had two offices in California—one in San Francisco, the other in Los Angeles.
When Ethan stepped into Room 2000 at 555 California Street, San Francisco, the same two lawyers who had delivered the earlier letter greeted him with polished smiles.
They invited him into their office, poured a cup of American ginseng tea, and then sat across from him. The plush sofa sank into a subtle arc under their weight as the friendly words began to flow.
"Mr. Jones, we're glad to see you again. Although we spoke on the phone, we could hardly believe our ears, so we want to confirm with you in person: are you requesting that our client, Magnavox, withdraw the lawsuit?
And to achieve this, are you willing to accept all of the compensation terms in the complaint—that is, to pay our client one million dollars, and to promise not to sell Snake Game as a video game in the United States?"
"…Half and half."
Ethan, now in a suit and tie, smiled faintly. "As long as your client, Magnavox, agrees to withdraw the lawsuit, I—Ethan Jones—and my sister, Evelyn Johnson, are willing to compensate the parties involved with one million dollars."
He paused deliberately, then added: "As for the sales ban you mentioned… I don't believe Magnavox itself would ever include such a clause in a settlement agreement."
---------------------
"Of course." Barbara nodded, her smile calm. "According to the law, once a plaintiff has filed a lawsuit but before the defendant submits a defense, the plaintiff may withdraw. But they must file a motion to voluntarily dismiss, and the court will close the case.
Naturally, if the plaintiff withdraws, all legal costs between the filing and the withdrawal fall on them. However, in practice, when both parties reach a settlement, those costs are usually shifted onto the defendant."
After explaining, Barbara's expression turned curious.
"Ethan, why are you asking this?"
"Because I'm ready to settle with Magnavox." Ethan smiled.
"...?" Barbara blinked, puzzled. "Why? How do you know Magnavox even wants to settle?"
-------------------
Ethan's words left the two Sidley Austin lawyers equally confused.
They exchanged a glance, and the one on the left finally said,
"Mr. Jones, with all due respect, I don't understand what you mean. Our client has made it clear: those who infringe will be punished by law. If you intend to solve this merely by paying compensation, I don't believe our client will agree."
"Really?" Ethan smiled, nodded, and said evenly,
"Then please tell your client this: I, Ethan Jones, know exactly why they want to sue Atari and me separately.
Tell them there's no problem with separate prosecutions. I can guarantee them—here and now—that they'll end up receiving two settlements."
"...?"
The Sidley Austin lawyers stared, baffled. They couldn't begin to understand what Ethan Jones meant.
---------------------
But even so, they did exactly as Ethan Jones asked. After all, it was they who had sued Atari.
"Barbara, you ask why I know Magnavox is willing to settle with me?"
Ethan Jones smiled. "The answer is simple. As you said before, Magnavox's behavior in this case is highly unusual—so unusual you once thought they might be targeting me personally.
I couldn't answer you before, but now I can. The truth is: yes and no."
He leaned forward. "The reason I say yes is simple. Magnavox sued me because they felt humiliated. As you once said: when middle managers will throw their subordinates under the bus to keep their jobs, the people at the top aren't much better. When questioned by their bosses, they grasp for excuses like a drowning man reaching for a rope.
My existence gave them a convenient scapegoat. So they sued me—at all costs—and tried to extract as much compensation as possible. And because no one can be sure how loyal in-house counsel might be, they had to leave it to an external law firm."
Barbara's brows relaxed. "Oh, Ethan… if that's the case, it makes perfect sense."
"But what if it's not?" she asked.
"The alternative," Ethan said, lifting his water glass and gently swirling it, "is even simpler."
The once-calm surface rippled. Ethan smiled at the disturbed water and raised the glass. "Magnavox knows that Atari holds the patent license for video games and training devices. What they don't know is whether Atari has infringed.
Last night, Steve Jobs made me realize something. He said Atari has a way to dodge the infringement issue with Snake Game—as long as the contract we signed doesn't involve machine agents. And Magnavox would certainly be aware of this possibility.
So, to cover themselves, they sued separately. My infringement is an undeniable fact—the provisional application from the Patent Office can prove it. But Atari's infringement? That's Schrödinger's cat. Unless Atari puts the contract we signed on Magnavox's desk, even Magnavox doesn't know whether Atari has violated their rights."
He drained the glass and set it down. "When Magnavox acts this way, it proves one thing: the people who decided to sue us don't actually care whether we infringed or not. They only want safe compensation—legal proof they can wave at their boss to show they were right.
If they truly cared, they would have sent an inquiry letter first—not filed a lawsuit outright."
---------------
"Uh… Mr. Jones…" Sidley Austin's lawyer said cautiously. "I just spoke with our client. They are very satisfied with the information you provided." He smiled politely, then added, "However, our client insists this established fact cannot serve as a bargaining chip in negotiations—unless you can bring forward something else of interest to them."
"Then tell me," Ethan leaned back in his chair, fingers interlaced across his abdomen, "what would interest your client?"
"You should know, Mr. Jones—sincerity isn't proven by words alone."
The lawyer who had earlier spoken with Magnavox smiled knowingly.
"You can certainly promise us more."
But even if you know Magnavox is only after money, and its top management is simply trying to protect their jobs, proactive reconciliation is actually the worst option for you. Do you understand what I mean, Ethan?
Barbara took a deep breath. "If we follow the process—submit the defense statement, file the evidence on time, and let the court carry the case to the settlement stage—then, with the judge's intervention, you won't have to pay nearly that much."
She paused, then her voice grew serious.
"Ethan, I've told you before: judges are not gods, they're human beings.
When two young people stand in the dock with bewildered expressions while the plaintiff's lawyer rattles off accusations, any judge will feel sympathy. Because deep down, they know how outrageous this patent is!
Of course, to preserve the appearance of fairness, you'll still lose. But in the end, the judge—or even the jury—will see that a million in damages is excessive. They will almost certainly cut Magnavox's claim down.
If I were defending you, I'd argue you never acted with intent. In that case, one hundred thousand? Two hundred thousand? That would close it! Don't forget, Atari only had to pay seven hundred thousand for Pong! I can even tell you this: if the damages exceed two hundred thousand, even Stanford won't tolerate it. Once I report the case and Evelyn talks to Vinton, the university's leadership will flood the San Francisco courthouse with calls. They'll pressure those idiots to back down—because, frankly, this isn't your fault at all!"
------------------
"Promise more?"
The words of Sidley Austin's lawyer made Ethan Jones laugh.
"I think you misunderstand where the leverage lies. A settlement is already in your client's best interest.
If this goes to court, even with all your legal tricks, you won't get more than a settlement. Why? Because Magnavox has never publicly admitted to owning the 'Video Game and Training Device' patent. Not because they can't—but because they don't dare.
Everyone knows how outrageous this patent is! Your client dares to sue directly, but won't send a warning letter. Why? Because they're trying to silence infringers through the courts.
If they sent a warning letter first, the accused would blast this ridiculous patent across the media and rally public sympathy. By suing directly, they can exploit the Federal Rules of Procedure to demand the defendant keep the patent confidential—arguing it involves privacy and trade secrets.
But let's be honest—that trick only works on ordinary people. Before the court issues a protective order, I can disclose everything to the press."
He leaned forward, eyes glinting with mockery.
"Other defendants stay quiet because they know they'll lose, so they beg for a smaller settlement. But if I'm willing to pay and you still refuse to settle—insisting on a sales ban—well… that's embarrassing.
Tell Magnavox this: if they demand a sales ban, I'll call the Los Angeles Times myself.
Do they really think they can milk money from this sham patent once it's dragged into the light? You and I both know the truth: judges are human beings too."
Sidley Austin's lawyer held Ethan's gaze for a long moment. Then he stood and quietly stepped out to make a phone call.
------------
"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" Barbara nodded rapidly.
"I know. I know litigation would save you money. But you're still insisting on a settlement. Why?"
She looked genuinely puzzled. "If you could lose less instead of more, why choose otherwise? That's insane."
Ethan smiled. "Oh, Barbara… maybe to you, my actions look like stubbornness. Like I'm saying, 'Don't play fair in an unfair system, don't be a hero when you're destined to lose.' But you're wrong. That's not what I'm after at all."
Barbara tilted her head. "Then what are you after?"
Ethan's expression suddenly shifted. His voice boomed with raw fury:
"Because I want them to die! I want the people who keep pushing blame onto me to choke on it! I've had enough of their endless scheming!"
Then, his tone dropped to an eerie calm.
"And how do I kill them? Simple. I only need one man to feel sorry for me."
He leaned back, smiling faintly. "You know who I mean, don't you?"
The outburst shook Barbara, but when Ethan's harmless smile returned, she burst out laughing, slapping her thigh.
"Yeah… if you want Magnavox to die, just make Professor Ralph Bear pity you.
And Ralph Bear will. He despises Magnavox, and you already helped Chuck Peddle. That old man will back you."
Exactly. Ethan's willingness to pay a million wasn't weakness—it was strategy. He wanted to meet Ralph Bear. Because as long as Bear held the patent for video games and training devices, Magnavox effectively controlled the entire North American market.
And without Bear's blessing, Ethan couldn't make games.
But with Bear? Everything changed. Steve Jobs had once told him: Bell and Nolan Bushnell had already reached a quiet settlement, because Bear wanted to protect the fledgling gaming industry—even at his own expense.
So, Ethan's plan was simple: pay Magnavox a million, then go straight to Ralph Bear, explain his dream, and convince the old man to issue a competing license. Then Magnavox's empire would collapse overnight.
"Does Magnavox want to make money lying in bed?" Ethan grinned. "Fine—I'll smash their bed, split their floor, and drag them out into the cold. From now on, anyone who wants to make games will pay no royalties at all. Let's see who kills who!"
All of Ethan's confidence came from Evelyn's earlier awakening. Because he had helped Chuck Peddle, he was already seen as a hero among dreamers. If anyone else begged Ralph Bell, the old man might hesitate. But for Ethan? He would open his arms.
Barbara clapped loudly. "Ethan—Ethan Jones—you're insane! Absolutely insane! I've been practicing for years, and this is the first time I've seen such a crazy client!"
Despite the vulgarity, she couldn't deny his logic.
"Legally invulnerable? No. But strategically untouchable? Absolutely."
She sighed, then asked curiously: "Where will you get that million? That's a heavy burden for your family, isn't it?"
Ethan tilted his head and smirked. "Who said I'd pay it myself?"
Barbara blinked. "Wait—don't tell me…"
"Yes. You're right." Ethan clapped his hands and straightened his collar.
"Shouldn't Atari pay for it? They want to steal my Snake Game? Fine—I'll blow up their patent license!"
He stood, still smiling. "See you later, Professor Barbara."
-------------
"Okay, Mr. Jones. Our client agrees to settle."
After a second phone call, Sidley Austin's lawyer returned.
"However, our client insists on sending a representative to San Francisco to discuss the details in person. Please be sure to attend."
"No problem." Ethan rose with a smile and extended his hand.
"I hope we reach a consensus soon."
"So do we." The two lawyers shook his hand, one after the other.
"See you soon," they said.
"See you soon," Ethan echoed with a grin.
Note:
① As written in the article, Barbara knew that Ralph Baer did not like Magnavox. This is a fact and was not altered for the sake of the plot. In reality, when Magnavox aggressively sued other game companies, Ralph Baer publicly stated that he disapproved of Magnavox's approach to intellectual property enforcement. He genuinely wanted to focus on making games. Later, when Magnavox refused to listen and showed no real interest in developing games, Baer chose to cooperate with another company called Coleco.