The richest man started taking advantage of loopholes after joining Alibaba.

Hangzhou, Xixi Industrial Park.

Double Eleven Countdown Battle Room.

The air was thick with the sour smell of Red Bull mixed with overnight tobacco, and the anxiety typical of internet companies.

Director Lao Wang stood in front of the whiteboard.

The red marker in his hand drew a sharp cross on the ground promotion data of the "Laiwang" APP.

The pen tip rubbed against the whiteboard, making a piercing "squeak" sound.

"The ground promotion materials can't be distributed; the people at the front are like soldiers with bayonets but no bullets!"

Old Wang slammed his pen on the table.

The orange name tag around his neck was shaking violently.

That was a symbol of Alibaba's P9 executive status, but now it feels like a tightening noose.

In the center of the conference table, empty Red Bull cans were piled up into a pyramid.

The topmost jar was teetering on the verge of collapse.

A group of P6 and P7 engineers lowered their heads, none of them daring to speak.

Everyone knows that logistics these days is like a constipated intestine.

With the transportation capacity of major express delivery companies nearing its limit, regular couriers are simply unable to reach the last mile when delivering heavy boxes of goods.

"Say something! Don't we always talk about closed loops and empowerment?"

Old Wang roared, his spittle flying two meters away.

"It's not that on-the-ground promotion is ineffective, it's that the blood vessels are blocked."

A calm sound broke the deathly silence.

Lin Che sat in the corner, twirling a pen.

Instead of staring blankly at the laptop like the others, he looked up at the all-red progress chart.

"If we use regular courier services to ship materials, they will be overwhelmed by e-commerce parcels during Singles' Day before they even leave the Hangzhou distribution center."

Lin Che got up and walked to the whiteboard.

Next to that red cross, write the words "Plan B".

"We need a separate blood vessel."

"Regardless of cost, and without even needing to follow the conventional system."

Lin Che's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable professionalism.

"Since the regular army is stuck in traffic, let's hire mercenaries."

Old Wang squinted and stared at Lin Che.

That's the look in the eyes of a drowning person seeing a straw.

The blinds were drawn, isolating the busy and chaotic office area outside.

Light filters through the gaps in the blinds, cutting across the desk like a fence.

Lin Che pushed an A4 paper document in front of Lao Wang.

The header page bears the boldface "Top Secret, Alibaba Group".

"Micro-light Interaction?"

Old Wang picked up the document, his brows furrowing into a deep frown.

"I've never heard of this logistics provider."

"A company that specializes in doing dirty and tiring work."

Lin Che sat opposite him, leaning back slightly.

"Although it's not a formal organization, they have extremely strong delivery capabilities. They have an independent distribution center in the west of the city and don't use the public network."

"A budget of two million?"

Old Wang's fingers unconsciously rubbed the cap of his Montblanc pen.

The white star logo was slippery from being soaked in sweat.

"50% prepayment? That's outrageous..."

"Old Wang."

Lin Che interrupted him.

Without explaining the price breakdown, they went straight to the heart.

"There's less than a month left. If this batch of materials can't be delivered, Laiwang's daily active users won't pick up..."

"After Singles' Day, the owner of this office may change."

Old Wang's fingers froze.

Two million is nothing more than a speck of dust in the context of the group's massive financial statements.

But for him personally, it's a lifesaver for his KPIs.

"This company..."

Old Wang raised his head, his eyes carrying a certain hint.

Is it reliable?

"One of our own."

Lin Che only said three words.

Exquisite use of white space.

In workplace slang, "one of our own" refers to both a community of shared interests and an unspoken connection.

Old Wang understood.

They assumed this was a channel Lin Che had found for money laundering or maintaining relationships, but that didn't matter.

The key part is the "betting agreement" at the end of the plan: if the delivery target is not met, a full refund will be issued.

Some people take the blame, while others do the work.

"Click".

The cap of the Montblanc pen was pulled off.

Old Wang signed his name in a flamboyant manner in the signature column.

"Make this a special approval and have the finance department transfer the funds today."

The document was thrown back, like a hot iron.

The shredder in the finance department was humming in the corner.

It tirelessly devours expired expense reports and discarded contracts, spitting out tons of white paper slips.

Lin Che stood in front of the counter, watching the finance specialist review the documents.

"Such a large prepayment, and from a new supplier, the compliance department should conduct a background check according to procedure."

The man in the gray suit walked over.

People from the compliance department.

Like vultures in a company, they specifically target the smell of decay.

"This is a project that Lao Xiao personally oversaw."

Lin Che remained expressionless and pushed the special approval form forward.

"The background check will take three business days."

The compliance department handles matters strictly according to regulations.

"This is the red line."

"The red line?"

Lin Che smiled.

He straightened the collar of his suit jacket with the precision of calibrating a fine instrument.

"Double Eleven is the lifeline for the company."

"Because of your background check, the supply of materials at the front line was disrupted, causing the daily active user data to drop..."

"Are you going to sign a pledge to take responsibility for this?"

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chill.

It's not about reasoning, it's about throwing accusations.

Use the boss's hat to crush these law-abiding bastards.

The compliance department staff were stunned.

In large companies, no one dares to take the blame for "hindering business development".

"Then...you'll be fully responsible if anything goes wrong."

The other party backed down.

"Snapped!"

The red expedited stamp was heavily stamped on the application form.

The dull thud echoed through the finance office, like the final hammer blow that sealed the deal.

Ten minutes later.

The elevator doors slowly closed.

The pristine elevator mirror reflected Lin Che's young yet indifferent face.

He was impeccably dressed in a suit and his hair was styled meticulously.

Like the most perfect cog in this massive business machine.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

Bank transfer notification: [Your account ending in 8848 has received a transfer of 1,000,000.00 yuan.]

This is the first transaction.

He took out his phone and, inside the sealed metal box, sent Fatty Wang a message with only two words:

"Enter."