"So this is Nintendo's solution?" Evelyn Johnson raised her head from behind a desk cluttered with drafts in the top-floor office of Destiny Game.
Ethan Jones stood by the window, pressing a finger against one of the Venetian blind's slats, peering down at the world below. Dressed in a beige suit, Minoru Arakawa stood next to a Toyota Corolla at the doorway parking spot. Despite the scorching weather, he maintained a poised demeanor, hands clasped in front, head slightly bowed, as if praying to the gods, yet his posture suggested a tense anticipation for news.
"Interesting," Ethan chuckled, retracting his finger.
With his movement, the distorted Venetian blinds instantly shut.
The silver blades blocked the last streak of light, and the room illuminated by the incandescent light welcomed his turn, "I told him to leave, yet he didn't. Truly, a stubborn man of Japan."
Half an hour earlier, Minoru Arakawa delivered Nintendo's solution to an unfounded accusation to Ethan Jones. Representing Nintendo, Arakawa solemnly declared, after a thorough internal review, that Ethan Jones' suspicions were baseless. However, given the years of collaboration and deep friendship, after careful consideration, Nintendo decided to relinquish their right to pursue further and hoped Ethan would cease his unfounded speculations, refocusing on the partnership itself. Moreover, they presented a new collaboration proposal.
That proposal now lay in Evelyn Johnson's hands.
"To be honest, after going through Nintendo's proposal, Ethan lambasted Arakawa with highly critical remarks, essentially accusing them of having the audacity to propose such a thing, demanding an apology over monetary interest, and then told Arakawa to leave and await the outcome.
But beneath the harsh rebuke...
Heh, delightful.
Ethan settled into the chair in front of the desk, looking at his sister with a smile, "Evelyn, do you think Nintendo's solution is unacceptable?"
"Of course, it's unacceptable!" the girl exclaimed loudly. "On the surface, their proposal seems full of sincerity, as they offer concessions on already signed collaborations and propose a generous share in potential partnerships. However, they're also sending us a message that our previous suspicions were all correct."
She tossed the Nintendo collaboration document onto the desk.
Leaning back with her arms crossed and a stern look, Evelyn continued, "If they've acted as we suspected—" she elongated her tone, rhetorically asking, "how could we possibly continue to collaborate?"
"What does Nintendo seem like to me now?"
"It's like someone masked stabbing us and then, realizing they didn't finish us off, offers a first-aid kit to mend their wrongdoing!"
"MFxxk!"
"Such actions are disgusting!"
"And even more so—"
"Shameless!"
Evelyn clenched her teeth in judgment.
"Hahaha—" Ethan's laughter echoed at the straightforward words.
Gazing at the delicate figure before him, capturing the boundless anger in her expressions, Ethan raised his hand, casting it in the light. His fingers moved lightly, like elves dancing, but the shadow it cast on the desk twisted irregularly in the darkness.
"Nintendo has shown considerable sincerity," Ethan remarked, looking at the shadow on the desk.
"What?" Evelyn raised her eyebrows in surprise.
She looked at Ethan incredulously, her hands pointing at the document on the desk as if they were digging into sand.
"Oh! Sxxt! You call this sincerity?"
"Of course."
Ethan nodded, "At least they admit that they were responsible, don't they?"
"But..." Evelyn tried to express her disagreement.
But Ethan was quicker—
"Oh—my dear sister, although it's often said that the business world is a battlefield without smoke, where everyone wishes their competitors dead and some would even personally eliminate their rivals for profit, this isn't a real battlefield but a series of business deals."
"If it's about business, then its core is always about interests."
"Nintendo's willingness to make concessions already shows their sincerity. If you still find it unacceptable, do we expect Hiroshi Yamauchi to apologize with his death?"
Ethan spread his hands with a shrug and a smile, "Though they from Japan cherish the spirit of bushido, I can't really expect Hiroshi Yamauchi to come here and commit seppuku, can I?"
"Let alone whether he would agree, even if he did, that would be unacceptable."
"The thought of intestines spilling and blood splattering is unbearable!"
"If Hiroshi Yamauchi looked at me with apologetic eyes before dying, continuously apologizing with a mouth full of blood, I might faint on the spot!"
"I admit, I'm a coward; I'd have nightmares."
With that, Ethan wrapped his arms around his body, tucked in his legs, and curled up in the chair.
Evelyn couldn't help but laugh out loud at
his trembling form and heartfelt words, waving her hands in disgust, "Oh Ethan—you're disgusting—"
"Mm-hmm." Ethan shrugged, settling the topic with a smile.
His diversion considerably eased Evelyn's anger.
"So you've decided to accept?"
"Why not?" Ethan countered, "Nintendo's offer is full of sincerity. I doubt we could find a more sincere collaborator in the world."
Ethan admitted that when he learned Hiroshi Yamauchi was willing to adjust the project's royalty rate from fourteen to twenty percent, he was genuinely surprised.
Although Minoru Arakawa had previously calculated the royalties from the "Snake" arcade game, showing it brought Nintendo $1.6 million in revenue, after nearly half the costs and his cut, Nintendo still retained about thirty percent of the net income. In such circumstances, even if Nintendo offered an additional six percent, they would still profit. But this wasn't the only way to view it.
In the burgeoning video game industry, where all collaborations and negotiations had no precedent and were gradually hammered out based on mutual feelings, Ethan's negotiations with Atari and later approaches by Sega and Nintendo were just such instances. Over time, as these negotiations formed a kind of standard, that standard could be seen as the norm.
Although no one in the industry used this standard, as Ethan Jones' games were the only ones achieving such success, it didn't mean the standard he set was meaningless. As time passed, it would become a benchmark for industry negotiations, and the bargaining power conceded by Nintendo was a valuable asset.
Previously, companies like Nintendo and Sega, which controlled market channels, proposed revenue-sharing schemes for others to negotiate. Now, Ethan Jones was in a position to dictate terms to these channel partners.
Once a twenty percent revenue share was established as a precedent, the bottom line for channel partners had been firmly set by him, making future negotiations much easier.
Not to mention—
The backup for "Pac-Man" had already been given to Nintendo.
Tearing up their agreement now would result in mutual destruction.
Both parties would be embroiled in endless lawsuits, and if Hiroshi Yamauchi were to have a moment of inspiration, he could simply modify the backup to create a similar game.
At that point...
Destiny Game, even with another partner, would suffer significant losses.
This was indeed about money, but not just about money.
"But if we continue to collaborate, we'll have to be extra cautious with Nintendo," Evelyn said. "If they dared to cross us once, they'd dare to do it again."
"They've shown their ambition. If they see an opportunity to turn the tables in the future, they'll undoubtedly betray us."
"Like..."
"Pearl Harbor?"
"Yeah~Yeah~Yeah~" Ethan nodded in agreement.
But he wasn't concerned, "But isn't that also a good thing?"
"A hidden enemy is more dangerous than an overt spy."
"Besides, business is business. Is there ever a true partner?"
"Haven't we seen enough in these past two years?"