"Liu Di, you're a cyborg too!"
"And not just an ordinary one!"
Teng Hualong looked on in disbelief.
Liu Di had crushed a brass lighter into a round ball and threw it over a hundred meters, hitting and taking down an assassin like a bullet.
This... this had to be the work of a cyborg!
"Just as ordinary people can't comprehend what a cyborg is," Liu Di smiled calmly, "you cyborgs can't understand what I truly am."
He extended his hand toward Teng Hualong and said, "Now that you realize you can't compare to me in any way, are you ready to post that status update?"
"I..."
Teng Hualong's words got stuck in his throat. He pondered for a full ten minutes, the sound of police sirens from downstairs pulling him back to reality.
He couldn't make sense of any of this. He had encountered other cyborgs before, but none had the power Liu Di displayed. Beyond the fact that he had taken down an assassin, Liu Di's insight alone surpassed anything Teng Hualong had ever seen. How could an ordinary human possibly detect an assassin so well-hidden?
As a seasoned player in the business world, Teng Hualong knew one thing for certain: when faced with an opponent you can't even begin to understand, it's best to retreat.
Silently, Teng Hualong took out a black, glowing ring from his pocket and sighed. "This is the symbol of the so-called top-tier circles, something only true elites possess. Even I only have one recommendation to offer."
"Take it. If you ever find yourself with nothing to do, you can show it off on my behalf."
Before Liu Di could refuse, Teng Hualong took the liberty of placing the ring in his hand. He knew that Liu Di wouldn't care for ordinary trinkets, and this ring was likely the only thing he could offer that might pique Liu Di's interest. It was, in its way, a gesture of goodwill.
Then, with a bitter expression, Teng Hualong pulled out his phone and began to type. Two minutes later, just before hitting send, he hesitated one last time. "You promise you won't push us companies into a corner, right?"
"Yes," Liu Di replied.
The two men stood silently on the rooftop, watching the grand performance in the sky. One was in awe of humanity's progress, the other in awe of the young man beside him—dressed in a white shirt, unfathomable despite his youth.
Meanwhile, on the streets of Haishi, countless residents had come outside, gazing up at the sky in amazement. Cars had come to a near standstill, with drivers sticking their heads out of windows, their eyes fixed on the spectacle above.
No one complained about the traffic jam. Everyone was captivated by the grandeur unfolding in the sky.
That night, the performance lasted four hours, leaving half the country's residents in a state of wonder, emotion, and excitement—sleepless.
The next morning, the news was dominated by three words: performance, Penguin, and Creator.
The Creator's live performance would go down in history. Emperor Yi's singing, 1 billion viewers, and the breathtaking sky display over Haishi—never before had so many hearts been touched at the same moment.
The Creator had become a global sensation overnight.
As for Penguin, the buzz stemmed from a single post: a screenshot of Teng Hualong's status.
Teng Hualong: "Had a rooftop chat with Mr. Di, and I am deeply humbled. I wholeheartedly submit! The Creator's technological prowess far surpasses that of Penguin. From now on, the Penguin Group will align itself with the Creator!"
The phrases "wholeheartedly submit" and "align with the Creator" became instant memes, used by countless people in online banter.
Submission was a given—Penguin's 0-3 loss had proved that. But "aligning with the Creator" held deeper meaning. Was Penguin going to play the follower now? Or had they struck some deal where the Creator would support Penguin?
The internet buzzed with wild speculation. But only one person knew the truth—this was Di San's benevolence, his choice to spare the entire tech industry.
All the threads led back to one person: Di San. For it was not just the Creator that shone brightly last night, but also a name that shook the business world on its first appearance—the Witness.
Clearly, this too was Di San's work.
Within a week of its founding, the Witness had made strategic investments in three rising internet companies, swiftly incorporating them into the "Magical Twins" portfolio. Leveraging the Twins' existing user base and Emperor Yi's live performance shoutout, these three platforms saw their user counts soar to billions overnight.
This defied all expectations in the investment world. Typically, even with excellent functionality and solid funding, it would take a year or more to build a user base of one billion. But the Witness had done it in one night, far exceeding that number. Each platform now held immeasurable value.
The connection was clear: the Creator, the Twins, the Witness, and investment—an unbreakable chain. The whole operation was akin to a money-making machine, or a massive entity emerging from the depths to astonish the world.
And behind it all was Di San, whose actions continually pushed the boundaries of what people thought possible—a figure wrapped in mystery and awe.
What was even more terrifying was that after the Witness's strength became apparent, countless startups rushed to seek its favor. The entire internet industry trembled with fear that soon there would be no room left for them.
But that morning, a message from Di San provided temporary relief:
Di San: "No single company, including the Creator, can meet all user demands. This requires the collective effort of the entire industry. In the coming year, the Creator will focus on solidifying its foundation. Once everything is ready, we will introduce new changes. I urge all tech companies to advance their technology in preparation for the survival of the fittest. Countdown: 1 year!"
One year.
The Creator was not going to press its advantage but instead chose to consolidate. Media outlets showered praise, billions of people expressed their anticipation, and tech companies breathed a sigh of relief, ready to hunker down and innovate.
Of course, only Teng Hualong knew the real truth—this was the "weakling's boundary" Liu Di had spoken of.
In a speeding luxury car, Yan Hongxin of the Yingzhi Group was scrolling through news about the Creator, unable to suppress his admiration. Talents truly arise in every generation! This Di San's abilities far surpassed those of the older generation of entrepreneurs.
Di San...
The more he saw this name, the more complicated Yan's emotions became, as it reminded him of another name—Liu Di. That young man was just as remarkable. What a shame the Yan family failed to recognize his worth.
With that in mind, Yan made a decision. He had to meet with Liu Di to explain things and mend the rift between them. After much thought, he composed a message to Liu Di.
"Liu Di, I want to meet and talk with you. Please agree."
After five agonizing minutes, Liu Di finally replied, "Okay."
Yan was overjoyed, his face lighting up with excitement. He was about to instruct his driver to cancel their plans when—
Screech...
A sharp braking sound was followed by a loud crash. A cement truck collided directly with Yan Hongxin's luxury car, flipping it over.
The force of the impact was immense, sending the car rolling off the road and crashing down hard.
Through the shattered windows, Yan's body was pinned by the twisted metal, his face covered in blood—his fate unknown.