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

Lin Che opened the first folder.

Edit the log.

He flipped the folder to the first page, turned it 180 degrees, and pushed it towards the head of national security.

The folder slid about thirty centimeters across the desktop and stopped in the middle of the table.

"In the second half of 2019, I began building a trend prediction system based on multi-source data."

He spoke a little slower than usual, leaving a half-second interval between each sentence.

It's not tension, it's about controlling the order of information.

He thought twice on the plane about what to say first, what to say next, and which sentence to match with which document.

"Data sources include publicly available market data, macroeconomic indicators, supply chain logistics data, and policy signals."

"All of this data is publicly available; there are no non-public sources of information."

He deliberately spoke those two sentences slowly.

The phrase "public data" was repeated twice.

"The initial version could only provide coarse-grained direction prediction with an accuracy of less than 40%."

"It's similar to flipping a coin."

The head of national security glanced down at the first page of the folder.

It was a screenshot of a printout showing the commit history of the code repository, with timestamps starting from June 2019.

"From the end of 2019 to the beginning of 2020, the system underwent a major architectural rewrite."

Lin Che tapped a line of numbers in the bottom right corner of the first page of the folder.

"After this rewrite, the system began to exhibit a new ability."

He paused for a moment.

The three people in the room were all looking at him, but no one said a word.

"It started modifying its own parameters."

After those words were spoken, the man on the left lifted his finger off the keyboard by one centimeter, and then lowered it again.

He didn't type, but his fingers moved.

This was the first time since he joined 607 that he had a visible reaction to what Lin Che said.

"I'm not talking about regular automatic parameter tuning, hyperparameter search, or Bayesian optimization."

Lin Che's voice remained flat.

"It modified its own weight allocation and data collection path without receiving any instructions."

"Furthermore, after the revision, the prediction accuracy jumped from 40% to 68%."

He paused, letting the number linger in the room for a few seconds.

The jump from 40 to 68 is not a gradual optimization, but a leap.

The head of national security looked up from the folder and at Lin Che.

There was no response, no follow-up question.

wait.

Lin Che turned to the seventh page of the folder.

This was the page he had specifically placed at the very beginning before he set off.

A screenshot.

The screen displays Abyss's edit log interface, with white background and black text, and the top line is the timestamp.

2020年1月3日，凌晨02:17:43。

"This is the first record that Abyss has edited independently."

Lin Che pulled this page out of the folder and placed it in the middle of the desktop.

It was placed between the files of the person in charge of national security and his own folder, within easy reach of anyone.

"The changes involve adjusting the weights of three parameters, including the cross-weighting of macroeconomic indicators, supply chain data, and policy signals."

He did not explain the technical details of these three parameters.

This is not the occasion to say.

"The day after the modification, the system made a prediction about the trend of a certain industry sector."

"This prediction is completely consistent with the core conclusions of an industry white paper released two weeks later."

"It's not that the direction is the same, it's that the data is the same."

Two weeks.

2020年1月3日的预测，和1月17日发布的白皮书吻合。

The system reached the same conclusion two weeks before the white paper.

The person in charge of national security tapped his finger lightly on the table.

a bit.

It wasn't the kind of tapping you do when you're knocking on a table; it was more like the tip of your index finger touching the surface, like an unconscious action while you're thinking.

"This is not a prophet."

Lin Che said.

His gaze moved from the head of national security to the man on his left, then to the woman on his right, and finally back to the head of national security.

"This is AI."

Four words.

This isn't a prophet; it's AI.

This is a sentence he pondered for many nights while looking out the window at the traffic on the elevated highway in his rented room in Binjiang.

From this moment on, "knowing in advance" is no longer a question of insider trading.

It became another problem.

A technical issue.

The head of national security did not respond to that statement.

His gaze shifted from Lin Che's face to the screenshot dated January 3, 2020, on the table.

I watched for about five seconds.

Then he reached out and picked up the paper.

He held it up to his eyes, very close, as if examining details in a screenshot.

Timestamp, modified content, system version number, submitter ID.

There is a line of small gray text in the lower right corner of the screenshot, which is the server's local time checksum.

He even read that line of small print.

I looked at it for about ten seconds and then put it back on the desktop.

It was placed in the same spot as Lin Che had placed it before, right in the center of the desktop.

It wasn't handed to the people on the left or right, but they could all see it.

The man on the left stared at his screen the entire time.

But Lin Che noticed that his screen was no longer a blank document.

He opened something; the page was very long and had a scrollbar.

It looks like they're investigating something.

The woman on the right did something that was the first time she had done it since entering 607.

She opened her closed laptop.

The light from the screen shone on her face; her expression didn't change, but she sat up a little straighter.

Her fingers landed on the keyboard, and she began to type.

The typing speed was not fast, but the rhythm was steady, as if he was organizing the information he had just heard in his own way.

The keyboard clicks were very soft, but still audible in the quiet 607 room.

It lasted about fifteen seconds.

Stopped.

He looked up at Lin Che, and something else appeared in his eyes.

It's not about believing or doubting, but more like a professional level of curiosity.

He lowered his head again and continued hitting.

The head of national security pushed the screenshot again, closer to the man on the left.

The man glanced down at his screen, then looked at his keyboard and tapped his fingers rapidly a few times.

"continue."

The head of national security uttered a single word.

The voice was soft, and the tone was flat.

It's not an order, it's an invitation.

His hands were still crossed on the table, just like at the end of the previous chapter.

He was waiting for the next piece of the puzzle.

The puzzle on the desktop has only just begun.

Lin Che nodded.

He reached back into his briefcase and took out a second folder.

There are 23 historical prediction records, spanning two years.

Place it on the table with the cover facing up.

There are now four things on the desktop: the National Security timeline table, the original SEC investigation documents, Lin Che's edit log folder, and this.

The screenshot from January 3, 2020, is still in the middle of the desktop.

The text is in black and white, with timestamps accurate to the second.

02:17:43.

From this moment forward, this date is the starting point for everything.