Hong Kong films: From street thugs to Hong Kong financial tycoons

Chapter 91 The Beginning of the Massacre: The Black Box Across the Ocean!

The noise in Hall 1 of the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre was so loud it felt like the ceiling was about to be lifted off.

Lu Qiu didn't give the Western reporters a chance to ask any more questions. He simply turned off the microphone and walked backstage.

That back view was incredibly arrogant, just like a big boss who had just reached the maximum level in the newbie village.

Security personnel immediately stepped forward, forming a tight human wall to block the foreign counterparts who attempted to rush onto the stage to snatch the prototype.

In the VIP room on the second floor, the soundproof glass filtered out most of the noise from downstairs.

Lin Yao stood up from the leather sofa and casually straightened the collar of his shirt.

His face showed little emotion, as if the price he had just announced, which was enough to shatter the global PC market, was just a trivial matter.

"Old Chen, let's go, there's nothing more for us to do here."

Lin Yao stood with his hands in his pockets, his tone indifferent.

"The show has already begun, and the stage is now in the hands of those foreigners across the ocean."

Chen Zheng was still immersed in the immense shock. He pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, swallowed hard, and his voice trembled slightly.

"Boss, $1999—at this price, if we sell all 300,000 units in stock, the cash flow will only be $600 million. Excluding air freight costs and R&D expenses, this first battle is a real financial drain on us."

As the chief steward of Yaosheng Capital, Chen Zheng's mind was entirely focused on the accounts.

He was used to Lin Yao's ruthless ability to rake in hundreds of billions in the financial market, so he was somewhat unaccustomed to Lin Yao's sudden involvement in this kind of loss-making, profit-driven physical business.

Lin Yao stopped and turned to look at Chen Zheng, a meaningful smile curving his lips.

"Old Chen, your vision is still limited to those traditional abacuses."

Lin Yao pointed to his head.

"From beginning to end, I never intended to make money by selling these lumps of iron. In this era, hardware has its limits. Moore's Law is there for all to see. The amazing machine you build today will be caught up by others tomorrow."

"So what are we after?"

Chen Zheng was stunned.

"To set a standard."

Lin Yao's voice gradually turned cold, revealing the ruthlessness unique to a financial tycoon.

"Three hundred thousand computers, three hundred thousand torrents with Loongson Windows and 3D games installed. I'm going to use these bargain prices, below cost, to force open the doors of the European and American markets and force our system into their studies and offices."

"Once these 300,000 machines are deployed and a reputation is established, users who are used to our graphical interface will, in turn, force software companies on the market to develop supporting software for our system."

Lin Yao extended his right hand and made a fist in mid-air.

"What I want is for the entire world's software ecosystem to operate according to the rules I, Lin Yao, have set."

"By then, I will be the tax collector of the global digital world. Anyone who wants to sell software on my turf will have to obediently pay me protection money. This is the kind of money that a person in finance like me should really earn."

After hearing these words, Chen Zheng felt a chill run from his tailbone straight to the top of his head.

That's incredible! This is true disruptive innovation. Instead of profiting from your hard-earned hardware costs, they've directly reached into the throat of the entire industry, cutting off the survival of all competitors.

Just then, a pale blue light screen, visible only to Lin Yao, quietly popped up in front of his retina.

[The Godly Rich's Wealth Prediction Panel has been updated!]

[Event Update: Loongson 1.0 supercomputer has made its global debut; its $1999 pricing strategy has triggered market panic.]

[In-depth analysis: Wall Street's technology sector is experiencing an unprecedented sell-off, with the market capitalization of former giants such as IBM, Apple, and Microsoft expected to evaporate by more than $30 billion after the market opens today.]

Although Yaosheng Technology, under the host's name, is not yet publicly listed, its internal valuation on the global dark web and among top venture capital firms has officially surpassed the $50 billion mark and is continuing to soar at a snowballing rate!

Looking at the simulation data on the panel, Lin Yao turned off the light screen with satisfaction.

It will take time to roll out 300,000 units of stock. This slow, gradual penetration is the most deadly poison. He has plenty of patience to watch those giants of the old era slowly suffocate in despair.

At this very moment, on the other side of the world, at John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York, USA.

As dawn broke and thick morning fog still shrouded the runway, accompanied by a deafening roar, five massive Il-76 military heavy transport planes, bearing extremely conspicuous Russian markings on their fuselages, lined up and landed on the specially approved cargo runway.

The cabin door slowly opened, and outside the airport, a long line of armed escort vehicles hired by Yaosheng Capital at great expense was already parked, with dozens of fully armed security personnel setting up a cordon.

Without any deliberate obstruction from customs, in this country where capital reigns supreme, Lin Yao had already used a large sum of US dollars several days ago to smoothly obtain the relevant travel documents.

Boxes of black packaging with a dark gold dragon logo were quickly unloaded by forklifts and loaded into trucks.

-

The entire process was quiet and swift, exuding a discipline akin to a war mobilization.

Two hours later. On Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, in front of a huge chain electronics store.

It was only eight o'clock in the morning, and the store had not yet opened, but a crowd of people had already gathered three or four deep at the entrance.

Mike is a typical Silicon Valley geek and a huge Apple fan. The reason he got up early today to queue up was because of a video he saw on TV last night.

It was a five-minute trailer. There was no boasting about the specs or listing data. It was just a short film of Eastern mythology with incredibly high-quality visuals, and the last line of text that appeared on the screen.

"Want to wield a sword in this world yourself? Loongson supercomputer, $1999, available nationwide tomorrow at 9 AM."

Mike was drinking Coke at the time, and the moment he saw that image, he sprayed the entire Coke all over his Apple Macintosh computer screen.

$1999, what level of 3D graphics can it run?

His first reaction was: This is definitely a damn Asian propaganda campaign!

But his geeky curiosity still drove him here.

Today he plans to take out his credit card to buy one, then dismantle it into pieces and write a long article on his geek forum to expose this century-old scam from Hong Kong.

"Hey buddy, you saw that damn guy from last night too?"

A fat man in front of Mike turned around, exhaling white breath, and asked.

"Of course, Easterners are really good at bragging."

Mike pursed his lips and put his hands in his jacket pockets.

"I bet if that machine can run a few crappy windows smoothly after it's turned on, I'll eat my keyboard."

.

While the two were chatting idly.

"Boom—"

'

Three heavily armed escort trucks stopped at the entrance of the store, and the store's roller shutter doors were pulled up with a clatter.

Several sales staff wearing Yaosheng Technology's uniforms quickly carried black packaging boxes into the store, piling them up into a small mountain in the most conspicuous spot in the lobby.

"It's nine o'clock, time to open!"

The crowd began to stir, and security guards struggled to maintain order, allowing customers to queue up and enter.

Taking advantage of his size, Mike was among the first to rush into the store. He ignored the IBM typewriters in the display cases and went straight for the pile of black boxes.

"Give me one, swipe your card!"

Mike slammed his credit card on the counter, his eyes gleaming with a fervent determination to expose a counterfeit. The salesperson smiled, completed the paperwork, and handed him a heavy box.

Mike took the box, and his wrist suddenly felt a heavy weight. It was definitely not one of those cheap knockoffs made with inferior plastic shells.

The box was packed tightly, with a matte coating that felt great to the touch.

He didn't linger in the store, grabbed the box, ran all the way to his Ford sedan, and sped home.

Pushing open the apartment door, Mike placed the box on the living room carpet, found a pair of scissors, and carefully cut open the sealing tape.

As the packaging was peeled away layer by layer, the all-black computer, with a dark gold dragon printed on the side, finally revealed its true form.

The metal casing has no extra buttons or interfaces, only a round power button on the front panel.

The cold, industrial design instantly outshone the bulky plastic Apple computer on Mike's desk.

"The shell is well-made, but let's see what junk is inside."

Mike muttered something, then expertly plugged in the power and connected the matching color monitor, keyboard, and mouse.

He took a deep breath, extended his index finger, and pressed the round power button on the main unit.

"Buzz"

A soft startup sound came from inside the computer case, without the loud clicking noise of an old-fashioned hard drive. Mike stared intently at the screen, preparing to take out his laptop to record the machine's long and sluggish boot process.

One second, two seconds, five seconds.

Just as Mike counted to eight seconds.

"Ding-dong."

A crisp, water-drop-like sound came from the speaker, and the dark golden dragon phantom flashed across the monitor screen.

Immediately afterwards, a desktop with blue sky and white clouds, neatly arranged colorful icons, and a semi-transparent taskbar came into view.

Mike's pen fell to the ground with a thud, and he froze.

There was no black screen running code, no boot floppy disk inserted, and it took only eight seconds to enter the fully graphical interface.

"This—this is impossible—"

Mike felt his breath catch in his throat. He reached out, his hand trembling, and grasped the oddly shaped mouse.

He gently moved his wrist, and the white arrow cursor on the screen, as if it were permanently attached to his retina, moved smoothly through the blue sky and white clouds without the slightest delay.

He double-clicked to open my document, and the pop-up window animation flowed smoothly.

He then tried dragging the edge of the window to enlarge and shrink it, and there was no visible tearing or jamming throughout the process.

"My God—"

Mike slumped onto the carpet, his hands covering his head, his mind blank.

He's a knowledgeable geek, and he knows all too well how formidable the technological barriers are to achieve this level of smoothness under current hardware conditions.

This operating system, called DragonOS, was a whole generation ahead of Apple and Microsoft in terms of underlying memory scheduling and graphics algorithms.

He bought this monster for only $1,999!

"Wait, that game in GG—"

Mike suddenly remembered something, sat up abruptly, and found the CD case at the bottom of the packaging box.

He swallowed hard, pressed the eject button on the CD player, and inserted the installation disc of "Myth: The Zombie Taoist Priest".

The system automatically recognized the interface, and a distinctly Eastern-style installation screen popped up on the desktop.

The progress bar moved very quickly, and two minutes later, the installation was complete, and an icon with a peach wood sword appeared on the desktop.

Mike's palms were sweaty. He gripped the mouse tightly and double-clicked the icon.

The screen went black, the fan inside the case sped up noticeably, and the dedicated GPU chip began to reveal its ferocity to the world.

As the heavy virtual bronze gate slowly opened on the big screen, as Uncle Nine's 3D silhouette in his Taoist robe clearly appeared before Mike's eyes, as the mouse moved and the entire game world's perspective freely rotated with his wrist—

A heart-wrenching scream rang out from an ordinary apartment in New York City.

"This is what a computer should be!"

Mike went completely mad. He swept the Apple computer he had once treasured onto the floor and then, like a wolf that hadn't eaten for three days, plunged headlong into the new digital world built by Chinese capital and Eastern mythology.

And on this day, such scenes were playing out wildly in countless homes and geek garages across North America, Europe, and Japan.

The 300,000 seeds that Lin Yao sowed finally sprouted in the soil of the old era and grew into towering trees capable of strangling everything.