Hot Afternoon is a movie adapted from a real case. The main storyline is very simple: it tells how a robber became the unluckiest bank robber in American history.
The story goes like this: the protagonist Mike Corleone and his close friend Fredo Corleone rob a bank on a sweltering afternoon. But since most of the bank's cash had already been transferred out, when they opened the safe, they were stunned to find only $1,100 inside. Misfortune never comes alone—before they could even escape with the money, their crime was discovered by the police.
What was supposed to be a ten-minute robbery turned into a ten-hour standoff. In the end, the Godfather-like figure is arrested, and Fredo Corleone is shot dead on the spot by the FBI.
Although the plot seems straightforward, there are still many striking moments.
For example, the protagonist, played by Al Pacino, is called Sonny, and in the film he even takes a jab at Sony by name.
Not only that, he is also portrayed as an LGBTQIA+ character, directly touching on hot social issues. His motive for robbing the bank is to raise money for his partner's gender-affirming surgery—already a daring premise. What's more, during the standoff with the police, Al Pacino's character unexpectedly becomes a people's hero.
At one point, Pacino releases a Black hostage as requested by the police. But the officers outside mistake the hostage for an accomplice, swarm him, and handcuff him. This injustice enrages Pacino, who asserts his identity as a white man and shouts "Attica!"
This scene delighted Ethan, because it instantly reminded him of the future Freud case. The connection made him sigh: Had Hollywood in the 1970s already gone this far? Were they already stressing that Black lives matter back then?
But when Ethan asked Evelyn what Pacino meant by shouting "Attica," he realized he had misunderstood.
"Oh Ethan, don't you remember ?"
In the dark cinema, Evelyn turned her head, gave him a strange look, and said: "That happened just a few years ago. There was a riot at Attica Prison. The inmates took control, held forty-two staff members hostage, and demanded that New York officials improve prison conditions.
Negotiations dragged on for days without success. Eventually, the governor sent in armed police and troops to retake the prison. In the ensuing gunfire, dozens were killed—including many hostages. And the key point is: the only people with guns at the time were the police and the military."
"Oh, shit! Was it really like that?"
Ethan hadn't expected American police to be so reckless. Suppressing a prison and ending up killing a bunch of hostages? What on earth were they doing—rescuing them with a T-800 and a Gatling gun? He couldn't wrap his head around it.
"Then the New York governor at the time must have been finished, right?" Ethan asked curiously.
Evelyn rolled her eyes. "Finished? Why finished?"
"Because dozens of hostages died!" Ethan said matter-of-factly.
"In that man's eyes, those dead hostages weren't even people," Evelyn replied coldly.
"Don't you know? The governor of New York State at that time is now the vice president. That was Nelson Aldrich Rockefeller."
"I get it, I get it!"
Although Hot Afternoon wasn't an action blockbuster, Ethan still enjoyed it thoroughly despite all the jokes. He walked into the cinema in high spirits and drove home with a playful smile.
However, his good mood didn't last long. The next evening, when Evelyn told him that Vinton Cerf said he didn't know Professor Ralph Bear.
"Doesn't know him? In that case, we'll have to find him ourselves."
"Why are you in such a rush?" Evelyn asked. "We could wait a little longer. Vinton said he didn't know Ralph Bear personally, but he could ask around. It'll just take some time—he won't be going to DARPA anytime soon. Maybe at the end of the year, around Christmas, when he visits his old friends in Virginia, he can ask for us."
"End of the year? That's only three months away."
Ethan thought it over and accepted it. "Alright then, I'll wait. I'll just treat it as a holiday."
But Evelyn couldn't help feeling something was off with that statement.
From her perspective, Ethan was always on holiday. He had worked for a week when developing Snake Game, then for a month when selling it, and had been stressed for only a few days while being sued. The rest of the time he didn't seem to be doing anything at all! how can he be so lazy?
If Ethan knew what she was thinking, After all, his leisure came from future knowledge.
Though Ethan kept talking about wanting to take a break, he never truly stopped. On October 7th, he handed Evelyn a company name he had been mulling over for days.
When Evelyn read the word on the paper, black lines immediately appeared on her forehead.
"Kismet (destiny)? You want to use this word as your company's name?"
"Yeah" Ethan nodded. "It's destiny! It means the founding of our company is destined!"
"…" Evelyn explanation only made the name sound stranger.
"Why not use Destiny, Fate, or even Chosen? If you want that imperial sense of meaning, I think these three words are much more accurate."
"That good too!"
Ethan almost applauded her—because she had pinpointed the crux of his struggle.
When brainstorming, he had nearly torn his hair out. He wanted a name that sounded imposing but not tacky. After thinking for ages, he still couldn't find the right one.
So, out of frustration, he linked the company name to his own transmigration. Since something as fantastical already happened, doesn't that make me the chosen one?
At first, he considered using the word Chosen, with its divine religious overtones. But then he remembered—someone in the future would get that very word tattooed on their back.
Even if that "chosen one" hadn't been born yet, who could guarantee he wouldn't end up with another tattoo later on? To avoid the risk of mockery, Ethan scrapped "Chosen" altogether.
Then his attention shifted to "Destiny" and "Fate."
To be honest, Ethan actually didn't want to choose either of those two words. The first reminded him of the game Destiny by Microsoft, and the second of the famous Holy Grail War.
Since both words carried such strong associations, Ethan—who was emotionally hung up on details—found himself unable to pick either one.
In the end, he reluctantly discarded them all and settled on Kismet.
As for why he didn't go with Luck, which can also mean both good fortune and fate? Very simple! Add in after luck—and the meaning completely changes. Not exactly the image he wanted for his company.
He had no choice. Embarrassed as he was, he could only stick with Kismet.
Ethan couldn't tell Evelyn all these stories, so he simply ended the discussion with: "I like it."
After leaving the task of company registration to Evelyn, Ethan turned his attention to inspecting his investments.
His first stop was Mountain View, where he visited Chuck Peddle's company to check in on the sales of the MOS 6502.
When the 6502 had been launched at the Western Electronics Exhibition, Ethan had been too preoccupied with his lawsuit to pay attention. But now that things had settled down, he came back—and the manager, beaming, reported the results.
"Mr. Jones, the MOS 6502 caused a huge sensation at the exhibition a few weeks ago!
When Mr. Chuck Peddle told the public that the 6502 could be sold for only $42—while delivering performance on par with Intel's 8080 and Motorola's 6800—everyone was shocked! They couldn't believe their ears!
Of course, many suspected we were frauds. But when Motorola responded by lowering the price of the 6800 to $68, all their doubts vanished.
On the very day of the conference, countless companies inquired about the 6502. As of now, we've already sold 10,000 units. If nothing unexpected happens, by the end of this year, shipments could surpass 50,000—or even 100,000!"
The general manager, a man in his forties who had once been a sales manager at Texas Instruments for ten years, spoke. Despite his rich industry experience, he could barely contain his excitement over the orders.
This was genuine joy—the joy of seeing a dream finally come true. as for the production volume, yes, it might look small by future standards. Ten thousand units would hardly be enough in the age of personal microcomputers. But at that time, such an order was already considered madness.
And with sales of $420,000 the net profit alone could reach $300,000.
"I didn't even lift a finger, and I just made $60,000?" Ethan thought with delight. "What a sweet deal!"
Grinning, he asked, "Can you tell me which companies have placed orders with us?"
"Of course!" the manager replied readily. He knew Ethan was the savior of the company.
"Ohio Scientific Instruments ordered 1,000 units. Commodore ordered 5,000. STM Systems ordered 3,000. And there are a few smaller companies that placed orders of 1,000 each."
"…"
Ethan didn't recognize any of these names from his memory.
"Well! Maybe this is just because I came here too early. Aside from the long-established company, I haven't heard much about these small fry anyway."
But Ethan wasn't too bothered. After all, he was already standing at the top of the industry—and had nothing to fear from anyone.
After a brief walk around, Ethan, satisfied with the current results, was ready to leave.
Just before he stepped out, the plump general manager suddenly handed him a business card.
"This is…?"
"Motorola CEO Robert Galvin's business card."
Ethan blinked in confusion. Where did you get this?
The next second, another thought struck him. Wait—this is for me?
"Yeah," General Manager nodded. "Actually, on the very day we released the MOS 6502, Motorola got word. They had a booth at the exhibition and were furious. They confronted us, accusing us of infringement.
But after Mr. Chuck Peddle and Mr. Robert Galvin spoke on the phone, their attitude shifted. They even announced at the show that Motorola would lower the price of the 6800 within a few months.
I don't know what was said, but afterward, Mr. Peddle asked me to pass this card on to you. He said Robert Galvin, the CEO of Motorola, wants to talk to you.
As for whether you accept it. that's up to you."
What, isn't this supposed to be some kind of warning? Ethan thought.
Still, curiosity won. When he called, prepared for a fight, a gentle voice answered on the other end.
"Ethan Jones? Inventor of Snake Game? Good afternoon."
"Yeah Mr. Galvin, this is Ethan. Do you have business with me? Because, frankly, we don't know each other—and since I stole Motorola's market, if you want to condemn me, go ahead."
"Oh, Ethan you think I called you that?"
"Mr. Galvin, I can't think of another reason."
"Hahaha It seems our reputation at Motorola isn't the best." Robert Galvin chuckled. "I only wanted a simple phone call with you. I didn't expect you to think that way. Ethan, relax. I'm not here to target you. I just wanted to get to know the young man who's been helping Chuck."
He seemed to realize his words might not sound convincing, so he added:
"Don't worry. Motorola has already dropped the 6502 issue. Since Stanford stepped in to resolve it, this market should belong to you."
"?" Ethan was momentarily stunned. "Mr. Galvin, I'm not sure I understand what you mean."
"You don't? Ah—then you may not know my background. I'm a trustee of the Illinois Institute of Technology. The school's library is named after my father. Our institution has close cooperation with Stanford, and I know exactly what kind of people Professors Barbara Babcock and Vinton Cerf are. So you don't have to worry—I'm not as short-sighted as Atari."
Robert Galvin's words made Ethan laugh. He immediately understood the subtext.
In simpler terms: I know who you are. People like you don't need to fight to the death over small potatoes.
A trustee, as Galvin described, was essentially an honorary leadership position—offering financial, strategic, and moral support to a university while enjoying early access to its latest inventions.
In other words, it was the corporate pillar in Fred Terman's school–enterprise partnership plan. Companies like Motorola, drawing a steady stream of patents from American universities, knew better than anyone else that high technology was the foundation of growth.
For Motorola, the chip market—with its uncertain prospects—wasn't worth fighting over. If Ethan Jones wanted it, he could have it.
What truly mattered was the future scientific research results coming out of major universities.
The reason Robert Galvin reached out to Ethan Jones was simple. By aligning himself with Vinton Cerf, Ethan had already secured a ticket into the circle of top companies. What remained was whether he could secure research results from Stanford with real commercial potential.
And anyone bold enough to snatch market share from Motorola clearly had the ambition to climb higher. So even if Robert Galvin wasn't sure whether Ethan would succeed, his message was clear:
If you ever need a partner in the future, give priority to Motorola. Whether it's electronics manufacturing or attracting investment, we're good at it.
"Oh, Mr. Galvin, thank you." Ethan smiled politely.
But despite his gentlemanly demeanor, he didn't believe a word. In his eyes, Galvin definitely had something up his sleeve. After the Atari fiasco, Ethan had learned to stay on guard. The only people he trusted were researchers obsessed with technology. As for businessmen?
-----------------
After inspecting Chuck Peddle's company, Ethan dropped by the garage belonging to his brother—Steve Jobs' family home.
that sounds odd, but what else can you call it? Jobs had literally turned his family garage into Apple's workshop.
Ethan's original purpose was to check the sales of the Apple I. But the moment he knocked on Jobs' door, the words that greeted him left him stunned.
"Oh, Ethan! We meet again!"
Jobs pulled him into a hug. Then, almost immediately, he rose up on tiptoe, bouncing in place, his eyes darting behind Ethan.
Then came the question: "Ethan? Didn't you come today to deliver the machine?"
"Huh? What machine?" Ethan blinked in confusion.
"The Snake Game arcade machine, of course!" Jobs loosened his hold, leaned back, and studied Ethan's face. "You didn't forget, did you? Last time you asked me why MCA bought Atari at such a high price. I told you my friend liked your game and wanted a signed Snake Game arcade machine."
"…" Ethan froze, caught completely off guard. The next second, he straightened up and pretended nothing had happened.
"The signed Snake Game arcade machine? Of course I remember! But I can't get one right now. I already terminated my contract with Atari, and no company is producing them anymore…"
Genius! Ethan praised himself inwardly. What a flawless excuse—made up on the spot!
But before he could relax, Jobs blinked and shot back: "Then how did the first Snake Game machine appear?"
"!" Ethan hadn't expected Jobs to corner him. After staring for a long moment, he finally surrendered.
"Alright, alright. I really did forget. I'll buy the parts when I get home. No—better, I'll call Frank right now and have him send me the materials. I'll build it tonight for your friend."
He admitted defeat. After all, Jobs' friend had done him a big favor. Forgetting such a small request was shameful.
But his apologetic expression only made Jobs burst out laughing. He gave Ethan a friendly punch on the arm.
"Oh, brother, look how scared you are! Forget it. He's already changed his request anyway."
"What do you mean?" Ethan frowned.
"It's simple. Originally, my friend just wanted to meet you—the guy who created Snake Game. But because MCA was in talks to buy Atari, and you were clashing with them, it wasn't convenient for him to approach you.
Now though, MCA has backed off, Atari's been acquired by Warner Bros., and so…" Jobs spread his hands. "He just wants to meet you."
"Warner Bros. acquired Atari on September 28, right?" Ethan asked.
"Exactly. He called me that very day. Said when you're free, I should bring you to Los Angeles to hang out with him. So, what do you think? Will you go?"
"Oh, so that's what this is?" Ethan chuckled. "Of course I'll go. Why not?"
"Okay, then let's go now!" Jobs immediately shoved Ethan toward his car. "Just drive us there!"
"now?" Ethan was startled. "And… does he even have time today? Can we really just show up and see him?"
"Of course!" Jobs said. "He's a director. Work comes one after another. When he's busy, you can't even find him. But when he's not busy, he's just like you—wandering around every day."
"So he's a director?" Ethan nodded in understanding. But the next second, his expression soured. "Steve, who exactly are you calling a wanderer? Brother, I'm not some idler! I have work to do!"
Such shameless words made Jobs burst out laughing. "yeah You have job… But your biggest job is watching other people work!"
Before Ethan could snap back, Jobs grabbed the Ferrari's door, swung himself into the sports car, and ran his hands lovingly across the steering wheel.
"Where's the key? Lend it to me! I've never driven a Ferrari before!"
Notes:
In reality, the success of the MOS 6502 was due to the price cuts of Intel's 8080 and Motorola's 6800. Before those cuts, few believed CPUs could ever be that cheap. Motorola initially didn't take the CPU market seriously. Chuck Peddle and others said they resigned, but Motorola was already planning layoffs, disguised as factory relocations. Robert Galvin considered CPUs a market worth experimenting with, not one with great prospects. At the time (1973), Motorola had already invented and patented the mobile phone. From that perspective, their judgment was correct—the mobile phone market turned out to be much larger than CPUs. Still, Motorola regretted pausing its chip business for just two years. To fund mobile phone development, they even sold their TV business to Panasonic. The relationship between the Illinois Institute of Technology and Stanford has been mentioned earlier. In fact, the Stanford Research Institute was largely established by IIT alumni and connections.