Chapter 19: The Third Rejection

In truth, before arriving at Exidy, Ethan had already mentally prepared himself for failure.

Over the past two months, while working at Mirco, he had witnessed firsthand the reality of life for game developers during this era.

Ethan's job was that of a marketing specialist, earning a weekly wage of eighty dollars, which was fairly typical for similar positions at the time.

And the game developers? As Peter Kaufman had mentioned, they earned a weekly salary of two hundred dollars.

On the surface, engineers appeared to be better off than the marketing staff, earning 2.5 times their wages.

However, there was a catch—salespeople earned commissions.

Engineers, on the other hand, received only a fixed salary.

Yes! No matter how outstanding the game they created, these individuals wouldn't earn an extra penny!

In Ethan's previous life, this would have been unimaginable. After all, in the future, a massively successful game could grant countless people financial independence!

The programmers behind "Honor of Kings" flaunted their million-dollar salaries, and back when Xu, the lead designer of "Fantasy Westward Journey," left NetEase to start his own company, he could afford to sponsor an entire football team!

But in this era, no one cared about developers.

Almost everyone in the industry believed that people's fascination with video games stemmed from their inherent charm, a testament to the public's curiosity about new things.

Under this mindset, profit-hungry bosses naturally refused to give developers higher wages. And when someone came knocking with a creative idea?

A one-time buyout was considered an act of benevolence!

After all, capitalists are the same everywhere.

So, even though Exidy had rejected a profit-sharing deal, Ethan Jones was not disheartened.

He drove south, taking a leisurely six-hour journey down Interstate 5, and finally arrived in Los Angeles at four in the afternoon.

There was no interest in touring the Hollywood Walk of Fame or gazing at Beverly Hills. Upon reaching California's most bustling city, Ethan headed straight to Sega's headquarters.

In the future, the Sega known to the world would be the Japanese Sega, but in this era, it was widely recognized as an American company.

Founded in 1940, Sega's business started off rather dubiously, manufacturing slot machines and selling them to military bases in Honolulu, where soldiers stationed there could gamble.

However, following the enactment of the Gambling Devices Transportation Act, slot machines were banned in the U.S., so Sega expanded its business to Japan, selling the machines to military bases there. Once the Japanese market was saturated, they moved into Southeast Asia, still catering to American soldiers stationed at military bases.

By the 1960s, the U.S. Air Force had grown tired of the gambling operations infiltrating the military and cracked down hard. Reluctantly, Sega shifted its focus. To avoid legal liabilities, the company's founders sold Sega to a Japanese corporation, but even then, most of its shares remained in American hands.

So, when Ethan arrived with "Snake Game," he was greeted by a sharply dressed Caucasian manager.

After seeing the game in action, greed flickered in the man's eyes.

"Mr. Jones, how about selling it for $20,000?"

"That's out of the question," Ethan Jones shook his head and replied, "Exidy offered me $50,000, and I didn't accept that either."

"Oh! What a pity!"

The white manager smiled. "Mr. Jones, I admit that 'Snake Game' is a good game. However, I must be honest with you—no company in the market today will agree to a profit-sharing deal. If you're truly intent on entering the video game industry, I'd suggest you manufacture the machines yourself and sell them independently. Don't show this game to any more companies, as it could easily suffer the same fate as 'Pong.'"

Though the Sega manager's tone was polite and his words sincere, Ethan Jones knew better—this man was a wolf in sheep's clothing, attempting to probe for details about the game's copyright registration.

Had Ethan appeared nervous, he was certain Sega would have drafted a mimicry plan and filed for copyright within a day after sending him off.

For this common business trick, Ethan had a simple response.

"Sir, thank you for your advice, and I genuinely appreciate your concern. But I believe that here in California, no one would be foolish enough to plagiarize my work. Before coming here, Professor Barbara Babcock from Stanford's Law School had already evaluated the rights of this product and assured me that we'd have a 100% chance of winning a plagiarism lawsuit."

'What?'

Ethan's reply left the Sega manager visibly surprised.

"Mr. Jones, are you from Stanford?"

"No, I'm not. But this product is."

Ethan smiled faintly. "The inventor is too busy to sell it, so I'm helping out."

"…"

The white manager paused for a moment, then chuckled. "It seems I've overthought things."

"Good luck to you."

"Thank you."

Since Sega also wasn't willing to collaborate, Ethan left.

He continued south, arriving in San Diego to negotiate with Gremlin.

This company, established around the same time as Exidy, had already cornered the arcade machine market in the San Diego region. Like Exidy and Sega, they were also intrigued by "Snake Game," but the terms they offered were similarly unappealing.

Profit-sharing was impossible; a buyout was the only option.

This fact made Ethan Jones shake his head with a smile and politely decline.

After hitting three walls in a row, Ethan had visited all the game companies in Southern California. To proceed, he would have to travel north, but before doing so, after driving a thousand miles back and forth, he decided to return home first.

His exhausted appearance prompted concern from his family, and after hearing his story, Thomas immediately put down his knife and fork.

"Oh, Ethan, I don't quite understand—does the arcade business really require collaboration with other companies?"

"What I mean is, can't we do it ourselves?"

"Evelyn might not have the time, but hiring a few apprentices to assemble the machines shouldn't be a problem, right?"

"If it's a matter of money, I can invest $100,000."

"You know, we're family."

Evelyn thought her father's suggestion was quite good.

Leaning her elbow on the table, she added, "How about I submit a start-up application to the university? If I establish the company under my name, Stanford can provide us with free workspace. It's no trouble at all. Student start-ups are common in our engineering department, and the professors can sign off on it. The school even offers a $5,000 grant."

"Oh, Thomas, Evelyn, thank you," Ethan clasped his hands together in gratitude, smiling, "but... there's no need..."

"As for why, I've mentioned before—if this were two years ago, when the market wasn't yet flooded with electronic arcades, Thomas, had you offered me $100,000, I would've asked for $200,000. If you had offered $200,000, I would've asked for $400,000, because the more money we had, the faster we could seize the market."

"But now, trying to conquer the market with money alone is no longer feasible. Thomas, think about those arcade machines that businesses are buying for over $1,000 each. It's like the transport trucks we use in our orchard. You spend $5,000 on a truck, only to have someone tell you to replace the entire fleet in three to five years. Would you agree?"

"Hmm?"

Ethan let out a soft chuckle.

Faced with this question about his own interests, Thomas immediately shook his head. "I'd wring the neck of any salesman suggesting that!"

"Sure, I can afford it, but that's not how you spend money!"

"Exactly," Ethan nodded with a smile, "so, the issue isn't money."

"It's the market's capacity to absorb the product."

"I think you understand that, Thomas."

"Yes," Thomas nodded thoughtfully.

"So, what's your next move?" Despite Ethan's current lack of financial success and the obstacles in his path, Thomas admired his determination. "Is there anything I can help with?"

"Honestly, I really like where you're at right now," Thomas added. "You're far more energized than when you were working your previous job."

"Thanks," Ethan smiled, appreciating the encouragement. "Well, if you really want to help, how about letting me borrow the Ford for a few more days? There's a company up in Sacramento I want to check out to see if they're interested in working together."

Just as Ethan was mentally going over the names of the companies in Sacramento, the ringing of the phone suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

Thomas stood up to answer, exchanged a few words, then called out, "Ethan, it's for you."

"For me?" Ethan was puzzled.

He distinctly remembered not leaving his number with either Sega or Gremlin.

"Could it be that Exidy changed their mind?" Ethan Jones muttered to himself.

But when he picked up the receiver, the voice on the other end was one he had no desire to hear.

"Ethan Jones? This is Frank! From San Francisco! Do you remember me?"

"Oh, of course, Mr. Faber."

The sound of Frank's voice instantly soured Ethan's mood.

It reminded him of the threats he had endured that day.

It had been a terrible experience!

Ethan replied tersely, "What do you want?"

"Hey, buddy! I don't appreciate that nickname you gave me!"

The head of San Francisco's electronics supply company shrieked from the other end, but then added, "But since you're about to apologize, I'll forgive you!"

"…"

Ethan Jones was left speechless, his patience wearing thin.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. If you don't have anything important to say, I'm hanging up."

"No! No! No!"

Ethan's threat elicited a shrill response, as the man's voice rose in pitch. "Don't hang up! You'll regret it! You're from Mirco, right? If I'm not mistaken, your company hasn't received an invitation to the video game expo in San Francisco, has it? But I, the great Frank, have one!"

"Listen, man, I misunderstood you last time, so I'm offering this invitation as an apology! What do you say? Will you accept?"