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

Four o'clock in the morning, the underground parking garage on the third basement level of the Weiguang Building.

Cold air rushed in from the dark ventilation ducts, making it extremely chilly.

A black Mercedes-Benz S-Class sedan was parked at the elevator entrance, its engine still running and emitting a very low hum.

The car headlights illuminated the gray-white cement ground three meters ahead.

Zhou Han stood by the car door.

He had just run down from the core server room, clutching something tightly in his hand, his knuckles white from the force.

Lin Che pushed open the back door and got out of the car.

He was wearing a minimalist black suit, without a tie.

Zhou Han took a step forward.

He opened his palm.

A black metal USB flash drive, only the size of a thumb, with no markings on its surface.

Extremely cold, extremely heavy.

"It's all copied," Zhou Han's voice was completely hoarse, as if it had been sanded on sandpaper. "All the data streams, the 180-page asset penetration draft, it's all in there."

Lin Che held up two fingers.

He grabbed the USB drive and picked it up.

The sharp edges of the metal were so sharp they pricked my fingertips.

"President Lin."

A suppressed voice came from the side.

Xie Yu leaned against the load-bearing wall.

He wasn't wearing a suit jacket, and his shirt was full of wrinkles.

His eyes were bloodshot, filled with spiderweb-like blood vessels.

Xie Yu straightened up and walked up to Lin Che.

He was holding a piece of paper in his hand.

"The bankruptcy liquidation plan," Xie Yu handed over the paper, his hands trembling so badly that the paper rustled loudly. "I've listed out the executive severance pay, the physical destruction process for the servers, and everything else."

Xie Yu lowered his head.

A tear fell onto the cement floor and instantly shattered into several pieces.

"As long as the green hills remain, you can go and admit your mistakes, hand over control of Weiguang, as long as everyone can get out safely."

The air freezes.

Zhou Han turned around, his back to them.

Zhou Han slammed his fist into the load-bearing wall, producing a dull thud, and some powder fell off the wall.

He was extremely unwilling, but this was a dead end recognized by the entire internet.

Weiguang Technology has crossed the country's bottom line; going to Beijing is tantamount to going to the guillotine.

Lin Che did not take the paper.

He looked down at the black USB drive in his hand.

The incandescent light in the underground parking garage flickered, casting a cold glow on the metal casing.

An extremely distant yet extremely clear image unfolded in Lin Che's mind.

In my previous life, November 2020.

It was also a cold snap in early winter, it was also a trip to Beijing, and it was also a closed-door hearing.

At that time, Alibaba's top management team consisted of a large think tank of 45 people, including top lawyers, financial experts, and policy advisors.

They chartered an entire private jet.

In that completely enclosed national-level conference room, facing questioning from regulators.

The once arrogant business tycoon was now soaked in sweat with his handmade, custom-made shirt.

Faced with the assessment of "disorderly expansion of capital," they couldn't answer a single question.

That was an absolute crushing defeat.

At that time, Lin Che was still working at his desk in Hangzhou.

He hadn't eaten breakfast, and his stomach ulcer flared up violently. The cramping pain made him curl up under his desk, his hair completely soaked with cold sweat.

The physical pain is extremely realistic.

He watched helplessly as that trillion-dollar financial empire collapsed, resulting in a record-breaking fine of 18 billion and an indefinite suspension of its IPO.

His stock options instantly became worthless.

Now, everything is repeating itself.

The regulatory sword fell a year ahead of schedule.

The competitors became even more ruthless, and BAT (Baidu, Alibaba, Tencent) ignited public opinion across the entire internet.

But he was no longer that grieving bystander.

Lin Che gripped the USB drive tightly in his hand.

The reason those business tycoons in their past lives confessed was because they were indeed playing a Ponzi scheme involving idle funds.

They had no trump cards up their sleeve.

But Lin Che has it.

This metal block, weighing only a dozen grams, contains the crystallization of the "micro-light brain" that ran for twelve hours.

The hidden asset network of Zhao, a debtor with billions in debt.

This is something that traditional banks cannot find; it is a social cancer that the Supreme Court finds extremely troublesome; and it is also the ultimate nuclear weapon that Lin Che used to exchange for the official "minting rights" license.

The calculation of benefits is extremely clear.

As long as this USB drive is plugged into the mainframe of that conference room, he can transform from a "data tyrant" universally condemned online into the sharpest knife of the state apparatus.

Lin Che raised his head.

He looked at Xie Yu.

Xie Yu was still holding up the bankruptcy proposal, his shoulders trembling violently.

Lin Che reached out and patted Xie Yu on the shoulder.

The movements were light, yet extremely steady.

"Tear it up," Lin Che said.

Xie Yu froze, tears still clinging to his eyelashes.

"What?" Xie Yu didn't hear clearly.

"Tear up the bankruptcy plan," Lin Che said, pulling his hand back and stuffing the USB drive into his trouser pocket. "Go prepare five billion in cash."

Xie Yu's pupils contracted violently.

"Wait for me to come back," Lin Che turned and got into the car, "and we'll go to war."

The car door closed with a heavy thud.

The Mercedes started, its tires screeching against the concrete, and drove out of the garage.

Xie Yu stood still.

He watched the taillights disappear at the end of the slope.

He thought Lin Che had gone mad; this was a delusional thought before his death.

But he looked down at the paper in his hand, and with a forceful pull, tore the plan in half.

……

Six o'clock in the morning, Hangzhou Xiaoshan International Airport.

Terminal 3 was nearly empty of passengers.

The cool white light shone on the smooth marble floor.

Lin Che walked towards the security checkpoint, all alone.

No assistants, no bodyguards, no legal team.

He was carrying only a very simple black briefcase.

The security guard was a young girl.

She took Lin Che's ID card and placed it on the scanner.

"drop."

A message pops up on the screen.

The girl looked up and her gaze swept across Lin Che's face.

Her pupils dilated instantly, and her breath caught in her throat for a moment.

Microlight Technology, Lin Che.

He dominated the trending topics online late last night, and all the self-media outlets were publishing articles smearing him.

The titles were all "The Demon Who Steals Privacy" and "The Madman Who Is About to Face Imprisonment."

The girl's hand trembled violently.

The ID card slipped from her fingers and fell with a "thud" onto the stainless steel tabletop.

"I'm...I'm sorry," the girl stammered, quickly picking it up and handing it to Lin Che with both hands.

She didn't dare look Lin Che in the eye at all.

Lin Che didn't say anything, and took it.

He put his briefcase into the plastic basket, reached into his pocket, took out the black USB drive, and threw it into the basket.

The plastic and metal collided, producing a soft sound.

Lin Che stepped through the metal detector gate without any alarm sounding.

Suddenly, a great deal of noise came from behind me, including footsteps and shouts.

A portly middle-aged man strode in; he was the owner of a traditional real estate company.

He was followed by a team of more than a dozen people.

Six bodyguards in black suits pushed aside the surrounding passengers, four lawyers carrying leather briefcases were sweating profusely as they checked documents, and three female assistants were making phone calls to confirm the itinerary.

"Keep a close eye on contract box number three! Losing it will cost you your lives!" the boss roared, his voice echoing through the empty security checkpoint.

Extremely high-profile, extremely bloated.

This is a common practice for Chinese business tycoons to visit Beijing.

Faced with questioning from the top, they need a large think tank to find legal loopholes and provide psychological support.

Lin Che stood beside a marble pillar two meters away.

He watched as the bloated team scrambled through security.

He was expressionless.

Lin Che picked up his plastic basket and put the small black USB drive back into his pocket.

Extremely lightweight.

Extremely deadly.

In the waiting room.

People started recognizing Lin Che.

Several businessmen in suits gathered together, whispering among themselves and glancing repeatedly toward Lin Che.

"It's him, the one from Weiguang Technology."

"Going to Beijing? Is he going to be summoned?"

"They probably won't be able to get out."

A young man in a plaid shirt raised his phone, the camera pointed at Lin Che, who was sitting in the corner.

He wanted to take a final photo of this public enemy before his capture.

Lin Che turned his head.

My gaze traveled directly across the distance of more than ten meters and landed on that phone camera lens.

Extremely cold, with no temperature whatsoever.

The young man was startled, his hand went limp, and the phone fell directly onto the instep of his foot.

He gasped in pain, quickly turned around, and pretended to look at the flight information board on the wall.

……

9:00 AM, Beijing Capital International Airport.

It just snowed.

The dry, cold wind blew directly onto my face, cutting like a knife.

Lin Che walked out of the terminal building.

He didn't arrange any special car to pick him up at the airport; he didn't need that kind of pomp and circumstance.

He walked straight to the taxi waiting area, opened the rear door of a Hyundai Elantra, and got in.

The heating in the carriage was on full blast, and it smelled like cheap air freshener.

"Where to, boss?" the driver asked in a thick Beijing accent, glancing at the back seat through the rearview mirror.

I didn't recognize him.

"The National Convention Center," Lin Che said.

The driver shifted gears, stepped on the gas, and the car shot forward.

A layer of white fog quickly formed on the car window.

Lin Che stretched out his finger and rubbed a transparent area on the glass.

The airport expressway is outside.

The sky was grayish-white, and there was no sun.

The bare poplar trunks sped backward.

Lin Che leaned back in his chair.

His right hand was in his trouser pocket, his fingertips touching the cold metal USB drive.

His opponents thought he was at his wit's end.

The PR teams of the two Mas are probably celebrating with champagne right now.

The presidents of the three major banks must be glad they cut their losses quickly.

Everyone assumed he was preparing a confession, a gesture of repentance, and that he would hand over the underlying code of the Abyss system.

madness.

The car entered the city.

The wide Chang'an Avenue, with its solemn buildings of red walls and yellow tiles, flashes by at the edge of the line of sight.

The sheer weight and power of the state apparatus is overwhelming, enough to crush the psychological defenses of any ordinary entrepreneur.

Lin Che withdrew his right hand.

The black USB drive was held between his index and middle fingers.

The metal casing has a very high-quality feel.

Lin Che twitched his wrist slightly.

The USB drive spun once between my fingers.

The faint light from outside the window shone on it, refracting into an extremely dazzling, cold gleam.

The driver in front glanced at it through the rearview mirror.

He suddenly felt a chill down his spine, so he quickly turned the heater up a notch and didn't dare look into the eyes of the young man in the back seat.

The car was stopped at a huge intersection.

red light.

Three hundred meters ahead, a massive building with extremely tight defenses and an extremely solemn appearance stood under the gray sky.

That is today's execution ground, and also his coronation platform.

Lin Che looked at the buildings outside the car window.

His fingers stopped turning and he gripped the USB drive tightly.

"The trial begins," Lin Che murmured.