Support and read on patreon 30+ chapters :
patreon.com/StylishSlayer
----------------------------------
Three days later — Skokie, Illinois.
Two subordinates, one fat and one thin, stood stiffly in front of the desk, eyes fixed ahead, not daring to move. Behind the desk, the old man leaned back in his chair, left arm resting on the armrest while his right index finger tapped rhythmically on the mahogany tabletop.
The irregular clicking was, enough to make one's scalp tingle. Yet, despite the unnerving sound, neither man moved an inch — because they had already seen the newspaper lying in front of the old man.
Is this what you call a sure victory? The white-haired man picked up the newspaper, glanced at the front-page subheading, and read aloud in a calm, measured tone:
"The inventor of Snake Game founds a company — Odyssey's patentee joins him."
He frowned and glared at the two men. When they failed to respond, his temper exploded.
"Is this the 'sure victory' you promised me?!"
With a furious shout, he hurled the newspaper.
Unfortunately, it barely cleared the desk before flopping to the floor. The way it landed, its front page seemed to mock him with a smug grin.
That was the last straw. The old man sprang to his feet, snatched the cup from the desk, and flung it at the floor in front of the subordinates shards of cup scattered across their shoes.
"You two sons of bitches!" he roared. "This is the 'final explanation' you give me?!"
"What did you tell me before? That Ethan Jones was breaking the law! That if we sued him, we'd win! But what now? What's the situation now?! Tell me! Why the hell did Ralph Bear join his company?"
"Do you even know what that means?"
"Ah?"
"This means Ethan Jones is no longer in our hands! Our monopoly on video games is gone!"
The two men exchanged helpless looks. Inside, they felt wronged — after all, none of this was really their fault.
When they'd pushed for a lawsuit against Ethan, their goal had been to prove to the board and the parent company that the problem wasn't their own management or inability to recruit talent — but Ethan's clever exploitation of legal loopholes.
Yes, perhaps they'd been a bit malicious in their choice of patents for the lawsuit — using them was … no, more like nuking a mosquito with an atomic bomb — but the result had been good, hadn't it?
When Ethan had settled and paid $1.5 million, all suspicion from the board and parent company had vanished. When Atari, their co-plaintiff, also settled and paid $800,000, the directors even praised their work, calling it a success.
As far as they were concerned, their plan had worked perfectly.
But now? They were just as shocked as their boss.
They, too, had been stunned when they saw this morning's Los Angeles Times. No one had expected Ethan — who had agreed to settle — to turn around and strike back at them.
No matter how they looked at it, this was outrageous. But none of that could be said aloud.
The two men exchanged glances again. Finally, the fat man, who had first suggested suing Ethan for patent infringement, stepped forward cautiously.
"Boss… this might be… some kind of… misunderstanding?"
"Oh, Fuck! The only misunderstanding here is thinking I'd believe that!"
The old man slammed his palm on the table and stormed up to him. Grabbing the man's tie with one hand, he jabbed his chest with the other, shouting:
"Motherfucker! Before I called you two in here, I was already on the phone with Sanders! He told me this was Ralph Bear's personal decision — and that they had no authority to interfere!"
"Do you know what that means?!"
"It means Ralph Bear is siding with Ethan Jones!"
"He's furious we went after Ethan — so furious that he personally stepped down just to give Ethan the freedom to keep making TV games!"
Each jab of the old man's finger felt. But the fat man barely registered the pain. The news itself was far more devastating.
Ralph Bear personally choosing to support Ethan Jones? What the hell was this?
Of course, they all knew Ralph Bear had always been dissatisfied with their aggressive rights protection. He had only ever wanted to collect modest patent fees — just enough to keep video game developers alive and innovating.
But business was business. If there's money to be made, why wouldn't they do it?
And besides, it wasn't even that much! An arcade machine cost only $80–$100. A circuit board was just $30–$40.
Those prices were perfectly affordable for manufacturers.
Sure, profits would shrink a little, but that was the cost of doing business.
So why would Ralph Bear oppose it? Even so, they would never dare question Ralph Bear publicly. In the United States — a country supported by science and technology — scientists' voices sometimes carried more weight than the law itself.
Not that they were above the law — but the law often bent to accommodate them.
Take Robert Oppenheimer, the father of the atomic bomb. Even when he brushed against the boundaries of ideology and was labeled "red" by certain enemies — including one who later died of acute hepatitis — the final court ruling declared there was insufficient evidence. He was never convicted.
No one dared put a permanent stain on him. After all, when Oppenheimer was under attack, Einstein himself blasted his accusers in The New York Times — three issues in a row. The scientific community erupted in outrage. When these geniuses, whose work shaped the very future of the country, all took a stand, both the Republicans and Democrats parties realized how dangerous the situation was.
They quickly found a way to sideline the troublemaker who had provoked the U.S. military and shut the whole affair down.
If they hadn't, the uproar could have spiraled into an international disaster.
So yes — resentment toward scientists still lingered under the surface, but it was kept there. Nobody was stupid enough to air that frustration in public.
That was why, even if they were angry with Ralph Bear, all they could do was quietly plot their next move.
But—
The more the old man thought about it, the more furious he became.
"Why did Ralph Bear choose Ethan Jones? Why?!"
Why would he join Ethan's company? The old man couldn't comprehend it. This "support" felt like a personal insult.
They had finally managed to pin the blame on Ethan — and now, barely a month later, Ethan had turned the tables and humiliated them.
What was this supposed to be? Just as the fat and thin subordinates were bracing themselves for their boss to rage all day, the phone on the desk rang sharply.
The shrill sound made the old man snatch up the receiver instinctively.
"Hello!" His tone was sharp, unfriendly. But the next second, his face stiffened — and then darkened further.
"Come in," he said curtly.
Before hanging up, he took several deep breaths to calm himself.
A few seconds later, a smile spread across his face — practiced and professional.
"Yeah Boss Hello It's me Oh, please, let me explain. Things aren't what they seem…
"No, no, no, we are already aware of the situation — we're investigating…
"…Okay, okay, I'll book a flight now… I'll be there right away…"
When he finally hung up, the smile disappeared instantly. His hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, But…In the end, he forced it down.
He cast a long, deep look at his two subordinates, then straightened his weary body and spoke in a calm, deliberate tone:
"Let's put the Ethan Jones matter aside for now. I'm going to New York. You two handle the other issues for the time being — we'll talk about the rest when I get back."
Those words made the fat man and the thin man shiver. Because the headquarters of their parent company — Philips — was in New York.
If nothing unexpected happened, their boss was about to face something big.
When they followed the old man out of the office, they saw his bleak, lonely back and both sighed softly.
"What's going on with Ethan? How did he manage to bring Ralph Bear in?" the fat man muttered, baffled.
"I don't know," the thin man said, shaking his head helplessly.
"I just feel like the whole thing is… off," the fat man continued, spreading his hands in frustration.
But the two of them weren't the only ones who couldn't make sense of it.
Nolan Bushnell was even more shocked. When he saw the front page of the Los Angeles Times that morning.
"Ralph Bear joins Ethan Jones' company?"
"Oh, Fxxk! Ethan! How dare you trick me?!"
But before he could even finish roaring, his office door burst open.
After letting the visitor in, he was hit with yet another blow.
"Nolan, Warner wants to know if you're free. They want you to come to Los Angeles."
"…"
"Damn it!"
Nolan kicked the chair viciously, grabbed his suit from the sofa, and stormed out of the office in a fury.
And somewhere else, just as angry, was Don Valentine.
After selling Atari to Warner Brothers, he had liquidated all his shares — so at this moment, he was at home.
When he saw the latest issue of the Los Angeles Times, he actually bent the spoon he was using to eat his oatmeal.
"Great. Ethan, you're really great…"
He kept nodding, muttering his "praise" over and over — until the veins on the backs of his hands bulged.
Then he slammed the table with both hands and roared:
"Ethan!!! Fxxk you!!!"