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

Chapter 4 Cyber Living People!

At 3 a.m., a residential house in Xiasha, Hangzhou, slated for demolition.

The air was as hot and dry as a steamer.

Two industrial exhaust fans were mounted on the windowsill, their blades spinning wildly, their monotonous and ear-piercing roar as they tried to draw away the tens of degrees Celsius heat inside the room.

But this is just a drop in the ocean.

In the center of the room, twelve iron racks were neatly arranged.

Each shelf was densely packed with hundreds of cheap Android phones with their casings removed.

Countless black USB cables were tangled together, like messy hairs falling out when a woman washes her hair, winding their way up the shelf legs toward the high-powered power strip in the corner.

The screen's light converged, casting a stark white glow over the room.

Fatty Wang was shirtless, with a yellowish towel around his neck, and holding a bowl of freshly soaked braised beef noodles.

On the folding table next to it, empty noodle buckets were piled up like a small mountain.

Red grease solidified on the edge of the paper bucket, emitting a mixed smell of cheap flavoring and spoiled butter.

He slurped up a mouthful of noodles, his eyes glued to the main control screen.

On the screen, the green progress bar was jumping wildly.

The script is running.

"Registration successful.......Account ID: 89757.......Gender: Female.......Region: Beijing Chaoyang.......Occupation: Flight Attendant......."

"Registration successful.......Account ID: 89758.......Gender: Male.......Region: Jing'an District, Shanghai.......Occupation: Investment Banking Manager......."

Soulless code is given a physical form here.

Alibaba's algorithm is still very immature; it only recognizes "activity level" and not "conversion rate".

As long as you have a profile picture, information, posts, and mutual following, in the system's eyes, you are a high-net-worth user with considerable wealth.

Click the mouse to import the newly generated 5,000 accounts into the "Activity Pool".

The phone wall responded instantly.

Hundreds of screens lit up simultaneously, automatically opening "Laiwang" (a social networking app), automatically liking posts, automatically commenting, and automatically adding friends.

That uniform, mechanical feel is enough to send chills down your spine.

I let out a burp and watched the numbers climb steadily.

This is not data.

It was clearly the Creator watching the birth of His people.

These people don't eat or drink, and they don't take wages. They work tirelessly every second to earn money for him and Lin Che.

...........................

Nine o'clock in the morning, in the conference room of Alibaba Binjiang Park.

The curtains were drawn tightly shut.

The old Epson projector hummed and projected a beam of blinding blue light. The focus was not properly adjusted, and the dust in the beam moved like microorganisms.

"The ground promotion team did their best."

Xiao Zhang, the offline supervisor, stood in front of the whiteboard, his voice hoarse.

His eye sockets were sunken, and his dark circles were so thick it looked like he had been punched.

He was clutching a crumpled flyer left over from last night's subway handouts.

"These days, users are hard to get. They won't even scan the code when we offer them Coke. Yesterday, the whole team went out to canvass university buildings, and we only managed to get... 200 new users."

The meeting room was deathly silent.

The leader of the opposing team twirled his pen and scoffed.

"Two hundred? At this rate, Mr. Ma's target of one million daily active users will take until the next century?"

He slammed the pen on the table and glanced at the corner.

"I heard Manager Lin got a 500 million yuan budget for online development? The money's been spent, but what's the progress?"

All eyes were on them.

Lin Che lowered his head and started typing on the keyboard.

Upon hearing roll call, I closed my laptop, unplugged the HDMI cable, and plugged it into my own port.

"I don't know anything about ground promotion."

He stood up, his tone as flat as if he were reading an instruction manual.

"I only understand human nature."

Press Enter.

Switching between projected images.

The blue curve, which had been at its lowest point, began to rise vertically at 3 a.m., defying the laws of physics.

Like a flagpole, it pierces the sky.

"New users yesterday: 58,000."

Daily active users: 42,000.

Average user dwell time: 15 minutes.

The air condensed.

The pen that the competitor's leader was spinning suddenly stopped.

Too much force was used, and the plastic pen cap cracked with a "crack," leaving a white mark.

Xiao Zhang stared with his mouth agape as the flyer fluttered down.

He physically squeezed onto the subway, handed out flyers, and put on a smiling face, all in exchange for Lin Che's simple code.

The crushing power of efficiency makes sweat seem cheap and laughable.

"This...how is this possible?" The competitor's leader jumped to his feet. "The data is fabricated, isn't it?"

"All users have complete behavioral records."

Lin Che cut out a user profile.

"Look at this, ID 'Walking in the Clouds,' a professional model, posted three selfies last night, getting 120 likes and 45 comments. Do zombie accounts post selfies?"

On the screen, a photo of an influencer from Instagram, taken from an online source, looked particularly alluring under the blue light.

That's definitely not the Zombie Number.

That was a high-end script that Fatty Wang bought at a high price; it was specifically designed to capture images from external websites and automatically add captions.

In 2013, this kind of disruptive technology was a miracle for those who did traditional ground sales.

Ten minutes later, in the director's office.

The crystal ashtray was overflowing with cigarette butts, resembling a mass grave.

Old Wang, his face glowing, paced back and forth in the cramped office before finally stopping in front of Lin Che and patting him heavily on the shoulder.

The force was so great that it made the bones under the shirt ache.

"Good! Good! Good!"

Old Wang exclaimed "Good!" three times in a row, "I knew I hadn't misjudged him! Lin Che, this move saved our department!"

"It's all thanks to General Manager Wang's excellent leadership."

Lin Che bowed slightly, his expression and tone impeccable.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I didn't take it out to look at it.

But I know the content.

Bank card payment notification.

After deducting costs, the net profit of 350 million yuan lay quietly in that investment card.

Old Wang sat back in his executive chair, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag: "What's next? Budget isn't a problem. As long as we maintain this momentum, we'll grant priority payment!"

Hooked.

For anxious KPI managers, false data is the most potent drug.

Once you've tasted the sweetness, you can't give it up.

Looking at that greedy face, he pushed up his glasses.

"Mr. Wang, the current price is 8 yuan per user, but if we want to maintain this high-quality 'live' interaction, the cost will have to increase."

"How much will it increase?"

"15 yuan," Lin Che quoted the doubled figure, "and it must be paid in advance."

The hand holding the cigarette paused.

But it was only for a moment.

Staring at the sexy growth curve on the screen, he shoved the cigarette butt hard into the ashtray.

"Granted!"

Step out of the office.