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

The air in the studio was so thick it was suffocating.

The card was still lying at Cao Jiuduan's feet. No one picked it up.

It is not garbage. It is an oracle.

"How is that possible..."

Cao Jiuduan slumped in his chair, his gaze unfocused.

He looked at the lone black piece on the big screen, then at the card at his feet, his finger unconsciously drawing circles on the table.

"This doesn't make sense in chess. A shoulder strike on the fifth line... that's handing over territory. What makes the computer think this is a good move? What makes it think so?"

He was muttering to himself.

Like a believer whose faith has been shattered, trying to find an explanation in the ruins of a collapsed idol.

"The principles of chess?"

Lin Che stood at the edge of the stage, looking down at the viewer.

The light shone on his profile, cutting out a sharp shadow.

"Teacher Cao, what you call the principles of chess are the experience that humanity has accumulated over thousands of years. The essence of experience is survivor bias."

Lin Che's voice swept through the deathly silent studio through the microphone.

"People who used to play like this lost, so you call it a bad move. But in AI's logic, there are no 'bad moves' or 'brilliant moves,' only fluctuations in win rate."

Lin Che turned around and snapped his fingers!

"Wang Jian, switch to the data view."

"yes!"

An excited roar came from backstage.

The big screen flickered.

The original black and white chessboard has disappeared.

Instead, a chilling heat map was displayed.

Against the dark background, the black stone with the "five-way shoulder strike" became the only point of light.

Countless red lines spread wildly outwards from it, connecting every seemingly unrelated empty space on the chessboard.

Each line is marked with a dense array of percentage figures.

52.3%... 54.1%... 58.9%...

The lines intertwined and tangled, eventually converging into a huge, red net.

That net had the white pieces tightly strangled.

A collective gasp filled the studio.

"Did you see that?"

Lin Che pointed to the red lines.

"Humans watch chess by looking at the 'present moment.' Is this piece strong enough? Is that corner solid enough?"

He walked to the large screen, his figure enveloped in a dazzling stream of data light.

"AI is looking at the 'future'."

"While you were laughing at its 'five-way shoulder rush' as ​​a waste, it had already calculated sixty moves ahead. It knew that this piece would become a wall on the 80th move and a knife on the 120th move."

At this moment, Cao Jiuduan fell silent.

He stared intently at the picture.

He's a professional chess player; he understood it.

That seemingly useless piece is actually a high-level pivot.

It sacrificed the solid ground beneath its feet, but gained control of the airspace over the entire central region.

"Humans crawl on the ground. What they see are mountains, obstacles."

Lin Che turned around. His gaze was like lightning, piercing the camera lens.

"AI provides a bird's-eye view from 10,000 meters above the ground."

"What it sees is a map."

boom.

This statement was like a depth charge, exploding in the online live stream.

There was a momentary break in the barrage of comments, followed by a frenzy of screen-filling.

"Holy crap... a complete dimensional attack!"

"Humans are crawling, AI is looking down... That's such an audacious line!"

"Is this the technology behind Weiguang Cloud? I wish I could have that kind of God's-eye view too!"

"Where's that expert who just made that joke about Lin Che? Come out and show yourself!"

The download curve of the Weiguang APP, which was originally rising gently, suddenly turned into a vertical straight line.

……

……

Inside the studio.

Old Nie finally snapped out of his daze after looking at the heat map.

He let out a long sigh. His voice sounded much older.

"I see……"

Old Nie stared at the screen, his expression complex.

"It's not that it doesn't enclose territory; it uses that piece to cut off all of White's retreat routes. When two armies clash, it doesn't try to seize cities; it directly cuts off the supply lines."

Old Master Nie looked up at Lin Che.

"Mr. Lin, can the Microlight Brain really calculate Go moves to this extent?"

"Go is just the beginning."

Lin Che did not answer directly. He walked back to his seat, picked up the bottle of water, and tightened the cap.

"Professor Nie, although Go is complex, it is a 'perfect information game.' The rules are fixed. The board is open to the public."

"But in the real world, in business, in people's hearts, at every crossroads of future decisions... the amount of calculation there is billions of times greater than that in Go."

Lin Che straightened his suit.

At that moment, news came from the Seoul stadium.

Lee Sedol finished his long deliberation. He was covered in sweat, his face as white as paper. Although he persisted in making his move, it was clear to everyone that his hand was trembling. His composure had worn off.

That black stone on the fifth line was like a thorn stuck in his throat.

From that move onward, every move White made was a passive, defensive one.

The outcome is decided.

Lin Che calmly delivered his verdict.

"In this game, humanity lost not only in points, but also in confidence."

After saying that, Lin Che stood up.

He didn't wait for the game to end, nor did he wait for the director to yell "cut."

Amidst the stunned gazes of the audience, he walked straight to the camera.

The camera zoomed in as he approached until his face filled the entire screen.

"This is just AlphaGo's first performance."

Lin Che faces the camera.

His eyes were deep, as if he could see through the hundreds of millions of eyes behind the screen.

"Many people are afraid that machines will become too powerful and that humans will be eliminated."

"Don't be afraid."

"Because it is we, not machines, who wield this power."

Lin Che took a black card out of his jacket pocket.

This time, it wasn't an envelope.

It was an invitation with a substantial feel.

The card features a blue cube silhouette with a line of minimalist white text below:

Micro-Light Brain, March 11, 2016 · Water Cube

"Tomorrow night at 8 PM, at the Water Cube in Beijing."

Lin Che held up the invitation, obscuring half his face and revealing only his sharp eyes.

"AlphaGo won Go, but that's just a small piece of the puzzle in the world of micro-light technology."

"Tomorrow, I will demonstrate the true form of the Micro-Brain."

"It won't win the game."

"It wins people's hearts."

"Want to know how it reads your every desire?"

Lin Che's lips curled up slightly, revealing a highly aggressive smile.

"I'll be waiting for you at the Water Cube."

Snapped.

The video cuts off.

The live broadcast has ended.

All that remained was a static screen and the hurried breathing of the audience.

In the studio.

Gao Song's mouth dropped open, and he didn't even notice that his fan had fallen to the ground.

For a moment, he felt as if he were facing not a businessman, but a preacher from the future.

The oppressive feeling rendered him speechless, unable to utter a single word of rebuttal.

"Is this...is this the power of capital?" Gao Song swallowed hard, his voice hoarse.

Beside him, Old Nie shook his head.

He bent down, picked up the folding fan, and slowly closed it.

"No."

Old Master Nie watched Lin Che's departing figure. That figure was upright and proud, as if he had just returned from a victorious battlefield.

That's not capital.

That's cognition.

Old Nie stood up, feeling his knees go weak.

"The old era... is over."