Who would still start a business seriously after being reborn?

Chapter 690 What's wrong with being a dog?
“That’s right.” Waters sneered, “They are good at making people recall a lot of details in a relaxed state, such as who instructed him to write these plugins, what other actions Momo Group planned against us… even making him record a confession video to clarify to the public that Cheng Yi was the mastermind behind it all, and admitting Momo Group’s unfair competition.”

He seemed to have already seen that scene, and his tone carried a hint of triumphant control as he laughed, "Just think about it, when this video is released through major media outlets, what kind of damage will it do to the image of Momo Group and Cheng Yi? At that time, not only will their market reputation be affected, but even their operating qualifications in China will probably be questioned."

"This is the fastest and most effective solution I can think of. As long as we get this key figure under control and obtain the testimony we need, all the current technical difficulties and public pressure will be resolved. In Chinese terms, this is called cutting through the Gordian knot!"

Booker listened in silence, his face remaining expressionless. After several seconds, he slowly spoke, asking, "What about the risk assessment?"

Waters waved his hand confidently and said, "Don't worry, Mr. Booker, the people I hired are very professional and clean-cut. They won't leave any evidence. Even if things don't go smoothly in the end, they won't be able to trace it back to us. Everything will look like Lin Sipeng's disappearance was caused by some personal issues."

Booker nodded, stood up, and said, "Well, my job is done. The rest is none of my business. Good luck, my friend."

Waters was not surprised by Booker's attitude. Booker's identity was more like that of a broker who provided special intelligence. He was only slightly concerned about what his employer would do after obtaining the intelligence.

As for the rest, he couldn't be bothered with them.

He stopped bothering Booker, turned and walked to the side, took out his encrypted phone, dialed a number, and said in a deep voice, "Target confirmed, Lin Sipeng, chairman of Sipeng Technology Co., Ltd. You can start preparing the invitation process. Remember, I want him alive, and he must be able to speak normally."

A low, brief response came from the other end of the phone: "Understood."

At this moment, in a booth at the most upscale Cloud Top Bar in Jingzhou City, Lin Sipeng was comfortably nestled in a soft leather sofa, his right arm around a hot and exquisitely made-up car model, while his left hand swirled the golden champagne in his glass.

He was surrounded by deafening music and dazzling, flashing lights, and the air was filled with the decadent scent of perfume and alcohol.

The car model nestled in his arms, speaking sweetly and complimenting him, her fingers seemingly tracing circles on his chest.

Lin Sipeng squinted, enjoying the feeling of being looked up to and flattered, and sang Huang Pinyuan's "Xiao Wei" loudly, his voice filled with the smell of money.

Just four years ago, he was the student council president of the Computer Science Department at Handong University, a man full of a sense of justice. But his good days didn't last long. He was marginalized by the student council for trying to trip up Cheng Yi and instigating Lin Hua to deal with Cheng Yi.

Back then, he never dreamed that he could sit in such a place, with a beautiful car model in his arms whom he could only see in magazines, and become the owner of a well-known game company.

The turning point came from his wise decision.

That means putting aside all pride and dignity, and completely submitting to Cheng Yi.

He still remembers that after Lin Hua stepped down and Cheng Yi became the new student council president, he suffered from insomnia for several nights in a row. In the end, he gritted his teeth and made a decision that shocked everyone who knew him at the time.

She turned her attention to Cheng Yi, flattering him in every way and trying her best to perform, all in the hope of gaining his approval, even if people talked about her behind her back.

As a result, many classmates secretly called him "Dog Brother".

"What's wrong with being a dog?" Lin Sipeng finished singing a song, took a sip of champagne, and the spicy liquid with a sweet aftertaste slid down his throat.

He sneered inwardly with a smug look on his face: "Those who laughed at me back then, aren't they all now calling me 'President Lin' with utmost respect?"

He only paid the price of his dignity, but the reward he received was beyond imagination.

Cheng Yi seemed to appreciate his ability to be flexible and adaptable, or perhaps he found him easy to manage, so he gradually began to give him some resources.

What moved him to tears the most was that after he graduated from university, Cheng Yi used his connections to help him obtain the game adaptation rights for "Sailor Moon".

Thinking of Sailor Moon, Lin Sipeng couldn't help but smile with a strange yet nostalgic expression.

What a wonderful coincidence!

As soon as Cheng Yi entered Handong University, someone hacked his social media account and maliciously sent a message to each of his friends: "I am Sailor Moon Lin Sipeng, biubiubiu..."

Cheng Yi's actions made him the laughingstock of the entire school, and he wished he could disappear into a crack in the ground.

But now?

He's absolutely in love with this Sailor Moon character.

This became a unique bond between him and Cheng Yi, and proof that Lin Sipeng had endured hardship and finally won the emperor's favor.

He not only wanted to use this name to make games, but he also wanted to develop peripheral toys, open themed cafes, and even change the name of his blog homepage to Sailor Moon Lin Sipeng, with an almost perverted obsession and a desire to show off.

The online game "Sailor Moon" that he developed, with the channel support of Momo Group and some operational strategies occasionally guided by Cheng Yi, has reached a peak of over 80,000 concurrent users. Although it cannot compare with those monster games that have millions of concurrent users, it has still made him a fortune and allowed him to truly experience what it means to live a life of luxury.

Like car models, he changes the car model every time he changes cars.

The main theme is to say goodbye to the old year and welcome the new.

The car model in his arms poured him another glass of wine and called out sweetly, "President Lin~".

Lin Sipeng snapped out of his daze and looked at her delicate face, his feelings of emotion growing even stronger.

In the past two years, in order to better help Cheng Yi handle some peripheral technical issues, and also for his own game project, he has consulted Cheng Yi on programming quite often.

Cheng Yi seemed happy to mentor him, guiding him in many programming skills for the underlying Windows system, and even subtly shaping his unique programming style.

Meticulous, detail-oriented, and with a certain defensiveness about cleanliness.

When he writes code now, he unconsciously uses nested try-catch-finally blocks, habitually adds an empty sleep block in the finally block, and actively sets pointers to NULL after they are freed...

These habits, which he himself didn't pay much attention to, have given his code a deep personal imprint, or rather, a certain shadow of Cheng Yi's technical system.

His programming skills have indeed improved by leaps and bounds, and Sipeng Technology's engine efficiency has become well-known in the industry.

"If it weren't for my shameless flattery and fawning for two consecutive years, would I be the CEO I am today? Would I have these luxury cars and beautiful women? Would I be making a fortune every day?" Lin Sipeng asked himself, and the answer was obviously no.

He not only felt no shame, but also a twisted sense of pride.

In his view, this was the most successful investment of his life. The investment was in Cheng Yi himself, and the capital he invested in was the tiny bit of insignificant dignity he had given up.

He hugged the car model tightly, downed the drink in his glass, and then pounced on her onto the sofa.

The car model giggled, her two long legs wrapping around Lin Sipeng's waist like water snakes.

Three days later, at the border of YN province.

The dense tropical rainforest appeared somewhat eerie under the cover of night, the air filled with the humid and hot smell of earth and decaying plants, and the chirping of insects rose and fell.

In the dense rainforest, a figure moved silently through the thicket, his movements fluid and swift, easily avoiding the thorny vines and sprawling tree roots.

His name was Ona, a young man who looked rather simple-minded.

His foolish appearance would blend into a crowd and attract no attention whatsoever; his looks were the best camouflage bestowed upon him by heaven. Because he was an assassin.

This profession has always existed, but it rarely appears in the world of ordinary people.

After retiring from the Thai army, he worked as a waiter in Pattaya. It was an accident that led him down this path.

In just six years since his debut, he has helped many patrons complete many difficult tasks with his ruthless methods and superb Muay Thai skills, with very few failures.

He was even referred to as Thailand's number one assassin in the industry.

At this moment, he had skillfully crossed that invisible border and stepped into a border town in Yunnan Province, China.

The whole process was smooth and familiar, as natural as going home.

He chose a secluded path that even local hunters rarely took, avoiding all patrol points and surveillance cameras.

He was intimately familiar with the loopholes in the border and the patterns of patrols.

On the border, the darkness is the best cover.

Ona was dressed in unremarkable dark outdoor clothing and carried a worn-out travel bag, looking like an ordinary backpacker.

Without stopping, he walked straight to an abandoned brick kiln on the edge of the town.

In a hidden corner of the brick kiln, he dug out a waterproof oilcloth bag.

Inside were the things his employer had given him that he needed.

A set of counterfeit Chinese identity cards, so realistic they were almost indistinguishable from the real thing, belonged to someone named Wang Qiang.

A specially treated mobile phone, some Chinese currency, a specially made dagger that looks like an ordinary multi-tool knife but has hidden secrets inside, and several thin but exceptionally tough piano wires.

He carefully concealed the utility knife and piano wires on his body, put other items into his travel bag, and then buried the oilcloth bag and the old clothes he had disposed of deep inside.

After doing all this, he took out the special phone, opened the back cover, and took out a piece of paper from behind the battery.

The paper contained information about the mission.

Name: Lin Sipeng
Identity: Chairman of Sipeng Technology Co., Ltd.

Location: Huaxia, Handong Province, Jingzhou City, Momo Technology Industrial Park and surrounding activity area.

Mission: To bring him out of China alive and ensure he can communicate normally.

In addition, there are three photos of Lin Sipeng.

Ona's gaze lingered on the photo for five seconds, and Lin Sipeng's smug and flamboyant face was etched into his mind like a brand.

For someone like him, memory is their most reliable weapon.

“Jingzhou City…” Ona repeated the place name in an almost inaudible voice, without any inflection.

It was a bustling metropolis thousands of kilometers from the border, seemingly a completely different world from the remote town of Caiyunsheng where he was now.

Without the slightest hesitation, he quickly left the brick kiln and came to a quiet provincial road.

In less than ten minutes, an old van without license plates quietly stopped in front of him.

The driver was a dark-skinned local. He glanced at Ona, but without exchanging any words, he simply nodded.

Onara opened the car door and got into the back seat, and the car immediately headed towards the nearest train station.

There, using Wang Qiang's identity, he would take an ordinary train, blending into the vast crowd, and gradually approach his target location.

Jingzhou.

A few days later, at Yueyang East Railway Station in Hunan Province, Ona walked out of the station with the surging crowd.

He was still dressed like an ordinary backpacker, expressionless, his eyes habitually scanning his surroundings quickly.

A noisy square, drivers soliciting passengers, travelers rushing by...

He took out a map and looked at it. He should go to the West Railway Station to transfer to a train to Jingzhou City.

"Brother, you're not from around here, are you?" At that moment, a middle-aged man with dark skin wearing a straw hat approached, speaking with a heavy local accent and wearing an overly enthusiastic smile.

Ona frowned slightly. His Chinese proficiency was limited to some simple vocabulary and listening skills, making it very difficult for him to understand the language, which was heavily accented and spoken at a very fast pace.

He replied in broken Mandarin, "West Station, I want to go to the West Railway Station."

"I know, I know, I'm going that way, I'll take you there." The black cab driver's eyes lit up, and without saying a word, he half-dragged, half-brought Ona to a silver van without license plates.

Ona was instinctively wary, but after observing for a while, he realized that this car was not much different from other cars soliciting passengers around. Although the driver was suspiciously enthusiastic, it seemed to be the norm in this kind of place.

He considered it for a moment, then asked in broken Chinese, "How much?"

"It's super cheap, only ten yuan, hurry up and get in!" The driver patted his chest and opened the car door.

Without further hesitation, Ona bent down and climbed into the back seat of the van.

There were already two people in the car, who looked like ordinary passengers, which made him lower his guard slightly.

He sat down by the window, placed his travel bag at his feet, and looked out the window, continuing to refine his action plan for Jingzhou City in his mind.

The car started and drove around the streets of Yueyang City for a while, gradually leaving the bustling area, and the surrounding buildings changed from tall to low and dilapidated.

Ona sensed something was wrong and asked in broken Chinese, "Why, why, so long? Is the West Station far away?"

"Almost there, almost there, we're taking a shortcut!" the driver said dismissively without turning his head.

After another twenty minutes or so, the car left the city completely and drove onto a bumpy dirt road with barren fields and scattered low-rise factories on both sides.

(End of this chapter)