Support and read on patreon 30+ chapters :
patreon.com/StylishSlayer
----------------------------------
Although Spielberg's father came and went in a hurry, carrying away only some painful memories with the wave of his sleeve, Ethan had to wait in Hollywood for just two days before Spielberg brought good news:
"My dad contacted Professor Baer. After hearing what happened to you, Professor Baer sincerely invites you to Nashua. He wants to meet you."
Ethan was overjoyed. He immediately spread his arms and hugged Spielberg. "Oh Steven! Thank you! Thank you for your help! And your father! Please help me convey my gratitude to him!
Oh! I'm so happy right now! I don't even know what to say..."
Spielberg understood exactly how Ethan felt. After all, for people in the video game industry, the patent for video games and training devices was like a mountain pressing down on them. But now, that mountain could finally be lifted. Anyone who gained a new lease on life would be ecstatic.
So he accepted Ethan's hug calmly. However, he had something to add. "Oh Ethan, if you want to thank my father, you can tell him in person after you see him tomorrow. I think he'll be very happy to share this joy with you."
"What?" Ethan blinked, confused, wondering if he had misheard.
Spielberg laughed. "Oh Ethan, was that hard to understand? My father hasn't seen Professor Baer in over a year. Now that we've contacted him, he wants to come with us. Just think of it as visiting an old friend."
"—!"
This fact shocked Ethan even more! At the same time, his gratitude grew. Because he understood—no matter how brilliant the dream- he had prepared, or how touching his identity as a soldier's orphan might be, none of that could compare to the pull of technology… and the even more powerful bond of fellow Jews.
With all these "BUFFs" stacked together, he felt as if this trip wasn't about business negotiations at all.
On the morning of October 24, Ethan and his companions arrived at Los Angeles International Airport and boarded a United Airlines flight to Boston. After six hours of turbulence, they finally landed safely.
At the exit, Ethan spotted a black Chevrolet van waiting. Next to it stood a lean, bespectacled old man in a beige sport coat over a floral shirt.
The moment he saw them, the old man strode forward. Arnold Spielberg set down his luggage at once and greeted him.
They embraced warmly. "Oh Arnold! We meet again!" the man in the floral shirt said loudly. "I haven't seen you in a year—I've missed you."
"Oh Rudolph! You actually came to the airport? This really moves me." Arnold laughed. "I was planning to have lunch before coming to see you, but I didn't expect—oh—you're too enthusiastic."
It was none other than Professor Ralph Baer, the man who had held the entire American video game industry in his grip since 1972—personally coming to pick them up!
After Baer and Arnold Spielberg exchanged greetings, he turned to the others. He first greeted Steven Spielberg, whom he already knew, then shook hands with Steve Jobs after Arnold's introduction. Finally, he stopped in front of Ethan Jones.
The fifty-three-year-old inventor peered at Ethan with sharp, rolling eyes and asked: "Ethan Jones? The inventor of Snake Game?"
"Yeah." Ethan nodded with a smile. "Hello, Professor Baer."
To be honest, he felt a bit reserved. He had mentioned Ralph Baer countless times before this meeting. But when the giant who had loomed in conversation for so long finally stood before him in the flesh, no amount of mental preparation could help. Because no matter how perfect the illusion, it was still an illusion.
And what stood before him now—was real.
However, Ralph Baer showed no embarrassment. He opened his arms with a smile and said, "Hug?"
At the same time, he added, "I've played Snake Game, and I admit—you're better than me at game design."
Ethan was flattered by such words. After he hugged Baer, the old man with Mediterranean hair leaned close and whispered in his ear:
"Ethan, although this is the first time we've met, I still want to say sorry to you. Because Magnavox's lawsuits have harmed you.
Arnold told me you are a pure game creator—you just want to make games that bring people joy. Yet in the process, you ran into my obstruction. For that, I am truly sorry.
At the start, I only wanted to bring happiness to the world. I wanted more people to play something fun, like video games. I never meant to hurt anyone with my patents. But I admit that in Magnavox's fight against plagiarism, you were dragged in.
Ethan, after Arnold told me about you, I looked into you. You're an outstanding young man. Despite losing your father in battle, you still embrace life with positivity. That makes me proud. And your selfless help to Chuck and the others—well, I admire that even more. I'm not just being polite—I mean it.
My child, you are innocent. Because of my silence, Magnavox committed atrocities against you. That fills me with shame.
If you can, I hope you'll accept my apology."
"—!"
How many times had he just said sorry? Ethan could hardly believe his ears.
But when Arnold Spielberg gently patted Baer on the shoulder, signaling him not to dwell too much on guilt, Ethan came back to his senses. He patted the old man's back in return, offering comfort.
At the same time, emotion welled up inside him. What was happening right now? He couldn't quite understand it himself.
But one thing was clear—Whether a person is seen as good or bad doesn't depend only on what they've done, but on how others perceive them.
And with Ralph Baer openly showing kindness, further conversation naturally flowed.
Led by the old man, the group went to a restaurant in Boston for a late lunch.
At the table, Baer carefully listened to the details. When he learned that Atari had played accomplice in Magnavox's lawsuit, the same man who had once given Nolan Bushnell a way out flew into a rage. But when he heard that, thanks to Ethan's pressure, all compensation was shouldered by Atari alone, he finally relaxed and admitted this was the best outcome.
When he saw that Ethan still wanted to keep making games, even after suffering under Magnavox's iron fist, he praised Ethan's persistence.
Then he nodded and said, "I know why you've come to me. Chuck Peddle is also a member of IEEE, but his level isn't as high as Arnold's or mine. And Motorola bought my patent, so I know exactly how you're handling the MOS 6502 CPU. Since I invited you here, it means I'm willing to accept your proposal. After you register the company, just invite me to be your technical advisor."
The suggestion made Ethan beam. As he thanked him, he said, "Oh Ralph—"
"Call me Rudolf," Baer interrupted. "I still like that name. My childhood wasn't happy, but that name witnessed my growth. I don't like the painful memories, but I want to remember the experience."
"Oh, okay. Rudolf." Ethan quickly corrected himself. "I have a question though—does the status of technical consultant meet legal requirements? Uh… I mean, if you can't get the patents for TV games and training devices, Magnavox might…"
At this point, Ethan stopped. He felt it improper to press further.
But Baer chuckled, leaning back in his chair and toying with his cup.
"Ethan, I know what you're worried about. Legally speaking, the identity of a consultant doesn't bypass patent issues. Only if I directly participate in a project or product would it fall under free research and development under California law. But…"
He shrugged. "Does it matter? It's about attitude—something for everyone to see.
Magnavox—would they dare sue me? No. Not just them—even Philips wouldn't dare."
Then he looked at Ethan with a smile and said simply:
"So, Ethan—feel free to move forward.
When your new game comes out, send me a copy. Like Steven, I also want to see what new ideas you've brought."