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

Over the Pacific Ocean, at 30,000 feet.

The cabin of the Gulfstream G550 is filled with a suffocating low-frequency white noise.

That was the roar of a Rolls-Royce engine turning, which, after being reduced by layers of soundproofing, eventually became a buzzing sound like a slow rubbing against eardrums.

The cabin lights were dimmed, a soft, ambiguous amber color.

The air was filled with a stale smell, a mixture of high-end leather seats, the sour smell of overnight champagne, and the stale smell of expensive cologne after it evaporated.

That's the smell of power.

Lin Che sat by the window.

On the small table in front of me was a Wellington steak that was only half-eaten.

The silver knife in his hand was slowly and methodically cutting along the texture of the puff pastry.

"Sizzle—"

The blade sliced ​​across the porcelain plate, producing an extremely faint yet extremely sharp scraping sound.

The sound, like a needle, pierced the surface of the previously peaceful cabin.

The man sitting opposite him shifted.

That's Liu Guoliang, a P9 executive in the wireless business unit. He's known as "Big Mouth Liu".

At this moment, the middle-aged man who usually acted arrogantly in the Hangzhou Industrial Park was blushing.

His whiskey glass was empty, and his tie was half-loosened, hanging crookedly around his neck like a noose.

"Lin Che".

Liu Dazui's voice was somewhat slurred, carrying obvious signs of drunkenness and a long-suppressed resentment.

"Don't think that just because Mr. Ma is asleep, I won't dare to touch you."

Lin Che did not look up.

His hands didn't pause for even half a second.

The knife precisely cuts off a piece of bloody beef, which is then picked up with a fork and put into the mouth.

chew.

Swallow.

The whole process was like a sophisticated instrument executing a program, without any unnecessary emotional fluctuations.

This disregard made Liu Dazui's breathing become heavy.

Normally, in a conference room in Hangzhou, or during a presentation in front of a large audience, he might still need to maintain a certain level of decorum.

But now, this is a sealed iron can over the Pacific Ocean.

There is no HR department, no anti-corruption department, only the most primitive law of the jungle.

"I'm talking to you!"

Liu Dazui suddenly sat up straight and slammed a stack of reports on the mahogany table.

"Snapped!"

The sound wasn't loud, but it was enough to be thrilling in the quiet cabin.

The curtain in the front cabin moved slightly.

That's where Mr. Ma rests.

Lin Che finally stopped using his knife and fork.

He picked up a napkin, gently wiped the corner of his mouth, and then lifted his eyelids.

In the dim light, those eyes were as cold as a block of ice that would never melt.

"Mr. Liu."

Lin Che's voice was soft, yet it clearly pierced through the engine noise, "The plane is still over the Pacific Ocean. Are you trying to crash it by starting an internal conflict?"

"Don't try to intimidate me with your big names!"

Liu Dazui pointed to the reports on the table, his fingers trembling slightly from the alcohol. "These are the data from yesterday morning. Your 'Mini Group Buying' project suddenly saw a 400% surge in daily active users! And all of that traffic came in at 2 AM!"

He stared intently at Lin Che, like a hound that had caught a fox by the tail, his eyes bloodshot.

"400% growth! Even WeChat can't achieve this kind of growth curve! Lin Che, you're incredibly audacious to inflate your numbers at this crucial juncture? If those guys on Wall Street find out, our entire roadshow will be ruined!"

Spit landed on the champagne glass in front of Lin Che.

Liu Dazui was panting heavily, a look of satisfaction on his face as he prepared to execute his opponent.

He's gambling.

Betting on Lin Che was a despicable tactic of inflating his roadshow data.

Once this is confirmed, even if President Ma admires this young man, he will have to reluctantly execute Ma Su.

After all, what Wall Street hates most is fraud.

Lin Che looked at the report.

It was indeed that unusually steep growth curve.

But he didn't panic, didn't try to explain, and his pupils didn't even contract.

He simply reached out a hand and picked up the champagne glass that was covered in saliva.

Long, slender fingers gently caressed the inside of the cup, as if playing with a work of art.

"Mr. Liu, you're a P9 now too."

Lin Che said calmly, his tone carrying an indifference that regarded all living beings as ants, "When looking at data, you can't just look at one chart."

"Still trying to argue?"

Liu Dazui sneered, preparing to continue his attack.

That's enough.

A gloomy voice suddenly rang out from the side and behind.

That was Old Xiao, sitting on the other side of the aisle.

As Alibaba's COO and the actual leader of this roadshow, Lao Xiao was pretending to sleep while wearing an eye mask.

At that moment, he took off his blindfold.

Those swollen eyes, swollen from long hours of staying up late, held no sleepiness, only the rage of being disturbed.

Old Xiao slowly sat up straight, his gaze sweeping between Liu Dazui and Lin Che.

The air pressure in the cabin seemed to drop by several hundred pressures in an instant.

"Old Xiao, you're just awake."

Liu Dazui, as if seeing a savior, immediately grabbed the report and rushed over, "Look at this! Lin Che is falsifying data! Once those Goldman Sachs guys find out about this garbage traffic..."

"I told you to shut up."

Old Xiao interrupted him.

The sound was soft and flat.

But Liu Dazui's voice stopped abruptly, like a rooster being choked.

Old Xiao didn't look at the report, but instead looked at Lin Che.

"explain."

Two words.

Simple, direct, and unquestionable.

This is the core of Alibaba's power structure. They don't care about the process, only the result and risk control.

Lin Che put down his champagne glass.

He bent down and pulled a black USB drive from the briefcase at his feet—next to the worn-out Lenovo laptop covered in Sailor Moon stickers.

That was his core asset.

"Clatter".

The USB drive was tossed onto the table, slid a short distance, and stopped next to Lao Xiao.

"It's not about inflating numbers."

Lin Che leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed as if he were in his own living room. "It's a full-chain stress test."

"Stress test?" Liu Dazui's eyes widened. "Who approved it? Why wasn't there an email notification?"

"Because this is a stress test targeting the competitors."

Lin Che glanced at Liu Dazui, his eyes filled with a hint of pity for the mentally challenged. "At that time, WeChat had just updated its version. I used all of Weiguang Media's private traffic pools to saturate WeChat's sharing interface within two hours."

As he spoke, he pointed to the USB drive.

"This is the stress test log. The 400% increase is because WeChat's servers experienced a brief overload, which prevented our sharing links from being blocked, resulting in traffic escape."

Lin Che paused, a cruel smile curving his lips.

"In other words, Mr. Liu."

"What you call 'fake traffic' is actually flesh that was forcibly torn from Tencent's mouth."

The cabin fell into dead silence.

Only the engine continued its tireless roar.

Liu Dazui's mouth was agape, his face turning from red to white, and then from white to a liver color.

He understands technology.

Therefore, he knew that if it was truly "traffic escape," then the value of this data would no longer be falsification, but rather—a nuclear weapon.

This means that Lin Che has found a vulnerability in Tencent's defense system.

Old Xiao picked up the USB drive.

He weighed it in his hand; it was very light, but in his heart, it was heavier than gold.

"Email." Old Xiao looked at Lin Che.

Lin Che took out his phone from his pocket, turned on the screen, pulled up an email that he had already edited and saved in the drafts folder, and clicked send.

Ding.

A few seconds later, Lao Xiao's phone lit up.

That was a memo about "Project W stress testing and defense penetration".

The attached list of recipients clearly shows the cooperation requests from Liu Guoliang's department, sent three days ago.

Of course, Lin Che used technical means to "hold" that email on the server until it was finally sent.

But in the server logs, it was posted three days ago.

"Mr. Liu."

Lin Che looked at Liu Dazui, whose face was ashen, and said in a calm tone, "I sent a collaborative email three days ago, requesting the wireless department to monitor the stability of the interface. Didn't you receive it? Or... is it that your team can't even maintain a basic email filtering system?"

A decisive goal.

This was a meticulously planned scheme.

From the moment Liu Dazui started his attack, he had already fallen into the trap Lin Che had set.

After reading the email, Lao Xiao casually tossed his phone onto the table.

That muffled thud sounded like a judge striking his gavel.

He turned to look at Liu Dazui, his eyes no longer filled with the previous ferocity, but instead with a coldness as if he were looking at a dead man.

"Big Mouth".

Old Xiao's voice was very soft, "The roadshow is about to start. If you don't want to go, you can apply to jump off right now."

Liu Dazui trembled all over.

He knew that his political career in this roadshow team was over.

In this enclosed space thousands of meters above the ground, the power structure underwent a subtle yet fatal tilt.

Lin Che picked up his knife and fork again.

The steak on the plate was cold, but he didn't mind.

He cut off a piece, put it in his mouth, and chewed it carefully.

The taste of blood spread in my mouth.

He turned his head and looked out the window.

Outside the porthole was endless darkness, with only the navigation lights on the wings flashing rhythmically, illuminating the thick clouds below.

His face was reflected in the glass.

Young and handsome, but expressionless.

Beside that face was the reflection of Liu Dazui's distorted, fearful, and frustrated face.

Lin Che raised the champagne glass beside him and gently lifted it towards the dark night sky outside the window.

It's as if it's a tribute to this long, dark night.

It also seemed like a farewell to the impending bloodshed.

"Respect greed."

He said it silently.

......

Twelve hours later.

The plane pierced through the clouds, and the immense gravitational potential energy pressed against everyone's eardrums.

Below is New York.

Countless lights form the veins of this city of desire, and the skyscrapers of Manhattan resemble rows of upright tombstones, or totems in the eyes of pilgrims.

The runway lights at Kennedy Airport cast two long stripes of light through the rain and fog.

"boom--"

The intense vibrations from the tires rubbing against the ground caused the people inside the cabin to lurch forward abruptly due to inertia.

It has landed.

Lin Che unbuckled his seatbelt.

Although his energy level was only 80%, the excitement of about to step onto the battlefield was causing his adrenaline to surge wildly.

The phone is turned on.

The signal bars flickered twice and then changed to the AT&T logo.

"Buzz".

A short message popped up.

No sender number.

The content is a string of illogical, nonsensical English gibberish:

[Blue Bottle / 3rd St. / No Sugar / 10:00 AM / HK-1999]

Lin Che glanced at it and then deleted the message.

The corners of his mouth rose slightly.

This is the secret code used by underground banks.

HK-1999.

That means his first "laundering" fund overseas is in place.

Lin Che stood up and straightened the collar of his suit.

He ignored Liu Dazui, who was still packing his luggage and looking distraught, and he didn't wait for Lao Xiao, who was trying to wake up Boss Ma.

He picked up the briefcase full of secrets and was the first to walk towards the cabin door.

The hatch opened.

A cold wind carrying the moisture of the Atlantic Ocean blew in.

That's the smell of money rotting.

The game has begun.