"Wang Hai, male, age 31..."
Before long, detailed information about Wang Hai appeared on Chen Mo's computer screen. As he read, Chen Mo's eyes widened in surprise.
Blue Sword Special Forces. Codename: Poseidon.
He hadn't expected this.
The quiet, reserved man who now worked as his personal security and driver... turned out to be a former member of one of the country's most elite units.
How did someone like this end up working part-time at a tech company? This wasn't just an unusual hire—it defied common sense. A man with Wang Hai's background should have been working in a high-level state department or private security firm, not guarding lab doors.
Puzzled but intrigued, Chen Mo scrolled further.
Then his gaze landed on the final entry:
Cobra Operation – successful. Retired due to serious injury.
Chen Mo didn't dig deeper into what "Cobra Operation" entailed. Some things, he figured, were better left unknown. There were places curiosity shouldn't go.
"Alright, Ink Girl, close this file," he instructed calmly.
Even without all the details, Chen Mo now had a basic understanding: Wang Hai wasn't just some ordinary veteran. As for why he wasn't working for the state anymore, Chen Mo decided not to dwell on it. Some truths weren't worth chasing.
Picking up the phone, he dialed.
"Zhao Min, come up to the office."
"Okay."
Moments later, Zhao Min stepped into the room.
"I've compiled all the technical documents for the miniaturized laser sensor I've been developing over the past couple of months," Chen Mo said, handing her a folder. "Take it for testing and start the patent application process."
"Got it." Zhao Min nodded as she took the documents. She already knew Chen Mo had been researching sensors and was long accustomed to his rapid development cycle. The mind of a genius wasn't something she tried to understand anymore.
"I'll be taking some time to read and maybe... fiddle around with a little toy on the side."
Zhao Min raised an eyebrow. "What kind of toy?"
"Just something fun. You'll see soon enough."
"Well, you're the boss," she said with a playful sigh.
"For now, we won't be launching any major new products. I need you to focus on keeping the company stable and growing. Start laying the groundwork for our autonomous vehicle project," Chen Mo said.
"We're entering the self-driving car market?" Zhao Min asked. "That sector's risky. LeTV's disaster is still fresh in everyone's memory."
"We're not building full cars. We'll focus on sensor and software technology. If we succeed, we can license the platform to car manufacturers. The hardware side won't involve us."
Zhao Min considered it for a moment, then nodded. "Alright."
She hesitated for a second, then added, "I've been thinking about forming a holding company—preparing for the future."
Chen Mo looked intrigued. "Explain."
"It's for long-term management," she said. "The company is already branching into multiple sectors. Eventually, we'll need to separate the mobile phone division and others into independent subsidiaries. The parent company can handle R&D and major strategy. It'll simplify management and help each sector focus."
Chen Mo nodded thoughtfully. "Makes sense. Do it. I'll give you 3% equity in the holding company."
Zhao Min blinked. "Well, I won't say no to that."
Given the current valuation of the Marching Ant company, 3% was enough to put her among the nation's richest. And in the future? That number might grow exponentially.
"You've earned it," Chen Mo said. "You handle the planning. Once everything's in place, show me the documents and I'll sign."
"No rush. It's just a seed idea for now," Zhao Min said. After chatting a while longer, she left the office with the sensor files.
Once she was gone, Chen Mo sat down and picked up the book on his desk.
Graduation season was just over two months away.
Until then, he didn't plan to start any major new R&D. Instead, he focused on reading. His goal was to finish the remaining books needed to hit 1,000 and unlock the next level of authority in the Science Library.
The techs in the "Apprentice" tier were no longer that appealing. What truly excited him was the next level—especially the enhanced AI capabilities embedded in the Chinese character programming language.
That upgrade alone could revolutionize all of his current technologies.
He still had four free tech selections left. And he planned to spend them all on this so-called "little toy" he was about to develop. The company had enough revenue now to sustain itself—he no longer had to chase funding or product launches.
Meanwhile, across the ocean...
In Apple's headquarters, Cook stared grimly at the latest sales data.
A 9% drop in Greater China mobile phone sales—just this quarter alone.
And that was before the Butterfly Eye even officially launched. That was just during pre-orders.
If the Butterfly Eye phone entered the market in full, things could get even worse.
With China Micro squeezing on one side and the sudden rise of Marching Ant on the other, Apple was under siege. Their mobile operating system, AI assistant, and even battery technology were being outclassed.
Once the Marching Ant phone launched internationally, Apple's hold on Greater China would crumble.
Stock prices had already taken hit after hit. Every Marching Ant product launch chipped another chunk off their market cap. Just two days after the last press conference, $8 billion in value had vanished.
The pressure on Apple's board was immense. If Cook didn't stop the bleeding, he might not survive the next shareholders' meeting.
His only viable option? Delay the Marching Ant phone launch.
He picked up the phone and called Qualcomm CEO Aberley.
"Mr. Cook?" Aberley answered, voice already sarcastic. "Calling to settle that patent fee, I assume?"
Tension between Apple and Qualcomm had been simmering ever since their legal disputes. Cook didn't have time for banter.
"We'll double the patent fee. Just cut off your cooperation with Marching Ant."
Aberley chuckled. "Do I look like an idiot? Break a reliable contract with a trustworthy Chinese partner just to take more of your money—and risk penalties in the process? Not happening."
Cook pressed. "What do you want? What will it take to cut off their chip supply?"
"Nothing you can offer. Breaking the deal would trash our reputation, cost us legally, and Marching Ant is already more profitable than you on this front. We're not fools—and you're dreaming if you think we'll eat apples while sitting on the toilet."
Click.
Cook's face went from pale to red to green. He took a deep breath, adjusted his collar, and stormed out of the office.
"Book a flight to Huaxia—Binhai," he told his assistant sharply.