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

The head of national security glanced at the man on his left.

The man didn't speak, but he took his hands off the keyboard and placed them on the desktop.

The meaning of this action is very clear: the backtracking verification ends here.

"Looking back can explain history."

The voice of the person in charge of national security remained as flat as ever.

"But what we need is not explanations of history."

He paused for a second.

"Could you make a real-time prediction?"

It's not a question, it's a request.

Just like the male member of the technical assessment team said, "We need to see," the period is not a question mark.

Lin Che nodded.

"Can."

He switched the backtracking mode on the Abyss interface to real-time mode.

The label in the upper left corner of the screen has changed from "Backtest" to "Realtime".

The data input field has been cleared, and the output panel has also been cleared.

The cursor is flashing in the input field.

"You provide a target price."

The head of national security glanced at the woman on his right.

The woman thought for two seconds and then spoke.

"copper."

One word.

This was the first word she uttered in 607.

It's not "copper futures," it's not "London copper," it's just "copper."

Lin Che began filling in the data in the input field.

LME copper price chart for the past three months, global copper mine production monthly report, China's copper import customs data, Federal Reserve interest rate expectations, and Chile strike probability index.

All five sets of data are from publicly available sources, and each set is labeled with its source and update date.

It took about a minute to fill in, which was a bit slower than when backtracking because real-time mode requires more input dimensions.

The woman on his right kept her eyes glued to the input field as he filled in the data, her gaze following each line of numbers.

He pressed the calculation key.

The output panel on the right side of the screen begins to change.

The result wasn't instantaneous; it was a progress bar that moved from left to right, taking about eight seconds.

For eight seconds, there was no sound from room 607.

The progress bar is complete.

The screen flickered, and three lines of text appeared on the output panel.

White text, dark background, font size one size larger than the input field.

Forecast target: LME copper

Forecast window: next 3-6 months

Trend probability: There is a 72.4% probability of a temporary pullback within the next 4 months, with a magnitude of 8-14%.

Three lines of text.

All three of them were watching.

The person in charge of national security leaned forward slightly.

The man on the left moved his gaze from the output panel to the input field and then back, as if checking the logic between the input and output.

The woman on the right looked at the "72.4%" and pursed her lips.

Then the room fell silent.

This quiet is different from before.

The previous silence was due to "processing information".

This silence is "unverifiable".

There is a 72.4% probability that there will be a temporary pullback of 8-14% in the next 4 months.

Today, in this room, no one can judge whether this result is right or wrong.

I didn't find out until four months later.

A period of trust vacuum.

Backtracking verification can confirm the result on the spot because the result has already occurred.

Real-time predictions are not feasible; the outcome hasn't occurred yet.

The trust that Abyss had just built with six backtracking steps has now encountered a gap.

The gap is four months wide.

The head of the national security agency leaned back in his chair.

He took his hands off the table and crossed them in front of his chest.

This is a defensive posture, different from the listening posture of crossing the table earlier.

The man on the left finally started typing.

The keyboard clicked rapidly, as if recording all the numbers just seen.

It lasted for about twenty seconds, then stopped.

He looked up at the person in charge of national security and shook his head slightly.

The head shake was very small, but Lin Che saw it.

It means: This alone is not enough.

The woman on the right closed her laptop.

It closed again.

Her gaze shifted from the screen to Lin Che's face, lingering for two seconds.

Then move it away.

Room 607 was at a standstill.

The sky outside the window was a bit darker than when I came in. At four o'clock in the afternoon in Beijing in winter, the light was already starting to turn gray.

The sound of water flowing from the radiator is more noticeable than before, or perhaps it's just because it's too quiet.

Lin Che observed the reactions of the three people opposite him.

He knew this moment would come.

The inability to verify real-time predictions on the spot is the biggest weakness of Abyss's presentation strategy.

Shen Nan raised this issue when designing the LM-002, but he didn't have a good solution at the time.

Later he got pregnant.

He bent down and reached into his briefcase.

It's not about taking a folder; all the folders have already been extracted.

His fingers touched something at the bottom of the bag.

Two different things.

A stack of papers, thirteen pages.

An envelope, sealed.

He first took out the thirteen pages of paper.

White A4 paper, Song typeface, size 4, line spacing 1.5.

There is no title, no signature, and no date.

It was exactly the same as when he found it on his desk in his Hangzhou office.

He placed the thirteen-page sheet on the table next to Abyss's computer.

"I didn't write this."

All three people's eyes fell on the stack of papers at the same time.

"This is an analysis report written by one of my technical team members after independently tracking the data flow of the reserved slots in v3.0."

"He didn't know Abyss existed, didn't know I was here today, and didn't know this document would appear on this table."

"He simply discovered the anomaly from a data perspective, tracked it down, wrote this report, and put it on my desk."

Lin Che did not say who wrote it.

There were no names on the thirteen pages.

"The conclusions of this report are consistent with the Abyss architecture I just presented."

"It's an independent third-party verification."

The person in charge of national security lowered his hand from his chest and reached for the stack of papers.

He picked up the first page and glanced at it.

Then turn to the second page, then the third page.

The page was flipped through neither quickly nor slowly.

It's as if they're verifying the authenticity of the document, rather than reading its contents.

He paused when he turned to page nine.

That was a comparison table, three pages long, filled with densely packed data.

He looked at it for about five seconds.

Then continue flipping through the pages.

After turning thirteen pages, he put the paper back on the table.

It wasn't handed to the person next to it.

The room remained in that awkward silence.

But it's a little loose.

Thirteen pages cannot prove whether copper prices will fall back in four months.

But it proves one thing: Abyss is not a story that Lynch made up alone.

Someone bumped into the same thing from another direction without his knowledge.

The man on the left reached out and picked up the stack of papers.

The national security official did not stop it.

The man started reading from the first page, and he read much slower than the person in charge of national security.

He was reading the content, looking at every line of data.

Lin Che's hand was still in the briefcase.

His fingers pressed against the edge of the sealed envelope.

It has the texture of kraft paper, is thick, and has stiff edges.

The envelope had the notary office's seal on it, and the raised part of the seal could be felt with the fingertips.

The date was one month ago.

He didn't take it out.

It's not the right time yet.

But it will be soon.