In 1975, Los Angeles was already the largest city in California, ranking third in the entire United States. Its municipal planning had its own unique characteristics—designed so neatly that you could instantly tell where the center was.
Ethan had visited Los Angeles once before in his previous life, in 2016. Back then, he used more than $3,000 he'd earned from part-time jobs to buy a ticket to the Staples Center for the April 14 curtain call show.
Perhaps it was the emotional atmosphere, but he thought Los Angeles was truly amazing. The streets overflowed with people, and everywhere he looked there was a sea of purple and gold jerseys. But in this era.
The last time he came to L.A. to sell Snake Game to Sega, Ethan had found the city rather ordinary. The the heavy congestion made driving suffocating. Even now, though Steve Jobs was the one at the wheel—making the stop-and-go traffic frustrating—Ethan still felt overwhelmed and uninspired.
Staring at the long line of cars ahead, he asked, "Steve, why do you think Los Angeles traffic is always this bad?"
He was just asking casually. But before Jobs could answer, a charming voice cut in from the side.
"Because this is the City of Angels! The San Fernando Valley is right here, so a congestion is normal, don't you think? After all, all that pipeline traffic has to clear out every day!"
"?!" Ethan froze. Good lord… in broad daylight, is someone really daring to talk like that in public? Isn't she afraid of getting herself killed?
When he turned to look, he saw a girl in a Chevrolet driving alongside them. She was attractive, stylishly dressed, and waving at them with a bright smile.
"Nice car, handsome! What brand is it?" she called out.
Before Ethan could react, Jobs grinned and answered smoothly, "Oh, this is a Dino—Ferrari's Dino."
"Really? No wonder it looks so cool! I swear, you're the most handsome guy on this whole road!"
She beamed at him. "If you're lucky, maybe we can get to know each other?"
"Thanks for the compliment," Jobs said, shaking his head. "But I'm not from California. I'm just here for some business and leaving soon. Sorry."
"That's such a pity," the girl said with a sigh before pulling away.
Ethan, meanwhile, had caught the whole high-energy exchange. And the more he understood, the more confused he became.
He turned to look at Jobs—who was already facing forward, the corners of his grinning. Noticing Ethan's stare, Jobs even added proudly:
"Brother! Now you understand why I wanted to drive your car, right? Because this is Los Angeles! Hollywood's here! This is the heart of our country's entertainment industry! If you don't drive a luxury car here, how can you really enjoy it?"
"Huh?" Ethan blinked as Jobs winked at him. With one smooth motion, Jobs slipped on his sunglasses, rested one hand on the car window, and placed the other on the steering wheel.
The traffic ahead was practically at a standstill, but somehow, his posing an inexplicable sense of ease—like the traffic jam didn't even exist.
This guy wanted to drive my car just to show off?! Ethan never would've guessed that was Jobs' true motive for volunteering as driver.
When he looked around and saw that everyone waiting in traffic was staring their way, Ethan felt like he'd suffered a huge loss.
Because after buying the car, he had shown it off too—but He'd never experienced this kind of scene.
And now Steve Jobs was the one enjoying it? Wait a minute... last time, wasn't it right in front of Jobs' house that he revved the engine and showed off? Don't tell me he planned it all?
"So you did it on purpose?" Ethan narrowed his eyes. "You drove today just for this?"
"No." Jobs denying it over and over. "I just thought that little stunt you pulled in front of my house last time wasn't cool enough. So I wanted to show you how to do it properly."
"…"
Ethan hadn't expected Jobs to be this shameless! If it weren't so inconvenient to swap drivers in traffic, he would have kicked him out of the car right then.
Not only was Jobs driving his car and pretending to look cool, he was doing it right in front of him—and worse, claiming Ethan's own attempt hadn't been cool enough!
After getting out of the car, Ethan said flatly, "Steve, I'm informing you now as the investor of an unnamed company—
you will no longer have a salary! I've deducted every cent of your wages!"
Jobs started to hand the Dino's keys back, but after hearing that, he pulled his hand back and stuffed them into his own pocket instead.
"Well, since I don't have a salary anyway, I'll just keep driving your car for a few more days. Consider it payment in arrears."
How can this guy be so shameless? He was about to educate Jobs properly when the latter suddenly threw an arm around his shoulders and steered him toward the Universal Studios building.
"Come on, Ethan, don't be mad" Jobs grinned. "If you keep sulking later, the L.A. police might haul me away. My friend will think I kidnapped you and call the cops."
As he spoke, he waved cheerfully to the Universal staff, looking completely at home.
The scene startled Ethan. How did Steve Jobs—former Atari grunt and future Apple founder—get along so well with Universal Pictures staff? Video games and personal computers had nothing to do with movies.
Still, he kept his thoughts to himself and only snorted coldly. "I don't believe it."
"Huh?" Jobs looked over, puzzled. "Don't believe what?"
"I don't believe your friend would call the police."
That made Jobs laugh. He guided Ethan into the elevator, pressed the button for the third floor, and said, "Oh Ethan, I might joke about other things, but not about this. If I told him I'd kidnapped you, he would call the cops."
The elevator chimed, doors sliding open. Jobs led him down a straight corridor.
"Ethan," he continued, "you might think I'm exaggerating, but my friend has three lives.
The first life was given by his parents—so even though they're divorced, he still hopes they'll remarry someday.
The second life is movies. When I met him, he swore he'd make the greatest films in the world, winning both box office and awards. And now… he's halfway there. The rest depends on next year's Oscars."
"And the third life is—"
Jobs stopped. They had reached the end of the corridor. Before them stood a plain, closed door. Its dark brown surface was worn with age, no sign or label—at first glance, it looked more like a utility closet than anything important.
Yet faint sounds seeped from behind it. The volume was low, the insulation solid, so Ethan couldn't make them out.
Not that it mattered. Just as his curiosity peaked, Jobs lifted his hand and knocked.
"Who?" a voice called from inside after Jobs stopped.
"It's me! Steve—Steve Jobs!" he shouted back. Then he added quickly, "Steven! I brought Ethan! Ethan Jones—the inventor of Snake Game I told you about!"
"Wow thank you!" the person inside replied happily. "Come on in, the door's unlocked!"
With that, Jobs turned the handle and pushed the door open.
As it creaked open, a jumble of sounds spilled into Ethan's ears. He stepped inside and finally saw the room clearly.
It was a cramped office, maybe 200 square feet, with a desk and a few chairs scattered haphazardly. Papers were piled chaotically across the desk, the whole scene looking like a shrine to disorder.
The east wall was covered in posters:
The first, with a yellow background, featured a black-and-white photo with the title Amblin' underneath.The second, also touched with yellow, showed a roaring male head above the word Duel.Next came a black-and-white poster with handcuffs, ammunition, and a bear—The Sugarland Express.And finally, one dominated by a blue sea, with a massive shark roaring out of the depths—Jaws.
Ethan narrowed his eyes. He had a feeling he had stumbled onto something significant.
Then, in the western corner of the room, he spotted a man with long hair in a plaid shirt and jeans locked in a final showdown with a Snake Game arcade machine.
"Oh! Yes!" the man shouted. "I passed the level! I finally cleared it!"
As the tiny white snake devoured its last piece of food and "Game Over" flashed on the screen, he leapt up like an ecstatic child, arms raised in triumph.
Spinning around, he threw his arms around Jobs. "Oh Steve! I'm so happy to see you! I bought Snake Game the day it came out—I've been playing for months! And today, with you here, I finally beat it! This has to be your good luck!"
Jobs laughed and patted him on the back. Then the man bounded over to Ethan, hand outstretched. "Oh—Ethan Jones, right? So good to meet you! And even better that I cleared the game in front of its creator! You don't believe me? I swear it's true—I'm your fan!"
His words tumbled out in a rush. "I love your game! Honestly, Snake Game is more fun than anything else out there right now. What are the other games on the market? Garbage compared to this! Snake Game can be played forever!"
Perhaps it was Ethan's silent stare—or simply realizing he hadn't introduced himself. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Oh, sorry, I've been going on and on without even introducing myself. How embarrassing. I'm Steven. Steven Spielberg."
He grinned and offered his hand again. "Ethan Jones—nice to meet you."