Chapter 14: Three Sentences That Made a God Prostrate Himself
1999 Words
Nighttime in Haicheng's western suburbs was a different universe from the glittering city center.
No skyscrapers piercing the clouds here. Just row after row of low, shabby factory buildings and offices—a forgotten corner left behind by urban development. The air carried a strange cocktail: industrial fumes mixed with cheap takeout, pungent enough to make your head spin.
A black Bentley glided silently over the potholed road, finally stopping beneath the rusted sign that read "Innovation Park." Its headlights died, merging with the darkness.
Wang Wanru sat inside, staring at the decay around her. She felt like she'd tumbled straight out of the clouds and into a mud pit.
She couldn't wrap her head around it.
The genius Zhang Tianyou had called "the most important piece in his revenge puzzle"—how could he be holed up in a place like this?
She didn't get out of the car.
Just waited. Quietly.
Waited for that familiar silhouette. And for that voice—the one that made her afraid, and hateful, and somehow, desperately, yearn to hear.
Before long, a taxi rattled up and stopped at the park entrance.
The door opened. Zhang Tianyou stepped out.
He glanced up at Building B that drab six-story block—and his expression held no trace of disgust. Instead, his eyes carried the sharp, focused look of a hunter locking onto prey.
[Bit Infinite Information Technology Co., Ltd., Building B, Room 301.]
[But the company's closed by now.]
[Knowing Lin Tao's workaholic nature, he'll definitely be at that rundown internet cafe nearby, burning the midnight oil on his precious algorithm.]
The thought passed through his mind as his feet carried him into an even darker alley branching off the park's edge.
At the alley's end, a sign with half its neon lights dead flickered stubbornly—"Sky High Internet Cafe."
Wang Wanru "heard" all of this in her mind. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
An internet cafe?
That genius was in an internet cafe?
She watched Zhang Tianyou's silhouette vanish into the pitch-black alley. A fierce curiosity clawed at her, impossible to resist. She pushed open the car door, and for the first time, her Jimmy Choo heels touched ground covered in dust and grease stains.
She didn't follow too closely. Just stood at the alley's entrance, a princess who'd wandered into a slum, every inch of her screaming out of place.
The moment Zhang Tianyou pushed open that greasy glass door, a wave of heat hit him—instant noodles, cigarette smoke, sweat, and cheap air freshener all mixed into one suffocating cloud.
The clatter of keyboards. The click of mice. The howling chaos of in-game battles—all of it crashed together into a symphony of late-night and restlessness.
The whole place was a smoke-filled mess. Cigarette butts and plastic bottles littered the floor.
Zhang Tianyou's eyes swept the room like radar, sliding past the kids glued to PUBG and League of Legends, finally landing on the farthest corner.
A guy sat there.
Hunched over, staring at a computer screen whose casing had yellowed with age. His hair was greasy enough to clump—who knew how many days since he'd washed it. The plaid shirt he wore was wrinkled like pickled vegetable. Stubble shadowed his jaw.
His desk was piled high with instant noodle cups and Red Bull cans, stacked into a small mountain.
The man radiated something unmistakable: the** and numbness that came from being ground down by life and work.
He was Lin Tao.
A genius who should have been shaking the world—reduced to a caged beast, burning through his own life force, pouring himself into garbage code that everyone else deemed worthless.
His screen held no games. Just dense walls of code, cascading like black waterfalls. And in one central window, an independent program ran rapid diagnostics—then mercilessly spat out a red "Error."
"f**k!"
Lin Tao muttered under his breath, yanking at his thinning hair in frustration. A few more strands fell out.
[Hummingbird algorithm... just as I thought. He's already got the prototype.]
An uncontrollable surge of excitement rose in Zhang Tianyou's chest.
He looked at Lin Tao—like gazing upon a rare, uncut gem, already radiating brilliance through its rough exterior.
He walked over slowly.
Lin Tao, already at his wit's end with that stubborn bug, sensed someone nearby. Without looking up, he snarled, "This seat's taken. PISS OFF!"
His voice was hoarse—cracked from all-nighters and frayed by irritation.
Zhang Tianyou didn't react. Just stood there quietly, eyes fixed on the red error code.
Lin Tao, getting no response, finally looked up. Through those thick, bottle-bottom glasses, he stared blankly at this uninvited visitor.
"Who the hell are you? You got a problem?"
Zhang Tianyou finally spoke.
No introduction. No small talk. He just raised a finger and gently tapped Lin Tao's screen.
"Your Hummingbird algorithm is interesting."
That was the opening of his first sentence.
THUNDERSTRUCK.
Lin Tao froze—as if lightning had struck him from crown to sole!
His bloodshot eyes, dulled by endless**, flew wide open. His pupils contracted violently!
Hummingbird algorithm?!
How did this guy know that name?!
That was the code name he'd given this experimental algorithm himself! He'd never told anyone! Even his sleep-talking was all C++!
Who was this guy?! A GHOST?!
Zhang Tianyou ignored his shock. In that calm, almost** tone, he delivered the second half of his first sentence.
"But if you add a microsecond-level timestamp variable at line 37 of the core loop—use it as a random seed for hash collisions—you can boost its efficiency by at least another thirty percent."
BOOM!
If the first half was lightning, the second half was a nuclear bomb detonating inside Lin Tao's skull!
Line 37!
Hash collisions!
Random seed!
Every word was a surgical scalpel, slicing open the tumor that had tormented him for seventy-two straight hours!
Why was he stuck? Because the hash table conflict rate in that loop was too high—wasting massive performance!
He'd tried a dozen fixes. ALL FAILED.
And this stranger—this ghost of a man—just glanced at it and handed him a solution he'd never considered, yet was theoretically perfect. A dimensional-smashing strike!
This... this wasn't technology anymore. This was METAPHYSICS. DIVINITY.
"Yo... you..." Lin Tao's voice, for the first time, trembled with uncontrollable shock. He wanted to ask "Who are you," but the words died in his throat.
He whipped back to his screen, ignoring Zhang Tianyou now. His hands, shaking with excitement, flew to that grimy keyboard!
His fingers moved so fast they left afterimages—hammering furiously!
Add variable!
Tweak parameters!
Recompile!
RUN!
The whole sequence flowed like water—blindingly fast!
One second.
Two.
Three...
When the screen finally flashed green—"Run Complete. Time Elapsed: 0.07s. Success Rate: 100%"—Lin Tao's brain short-circuited.
Previous best record: 0.11 seconds.
Efficiency improvement: exactly 36.3%. Not a fraction more, not a fraction less. Precision perfection.
Lin Tao slumped back in his chair, mouth hanging open like a fish gasping on shore. He panted heavily, eyes locked on that green result. Mind utterly blank.
He felt like the worldview and technical foundation he'd built over twenty years—shattered into dust by this man's casual, effortless sentence.
While he was still floating in some out-of-body daze, Zhang Tianyou's demonic voice rang out again.
"Don't waste any more time at that shithole company. Your boss is skipping town with the money next month."
That was the second sentence.
Like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head—snapping him instantly from tech-shock back to this miserable reality.
"Wh... what did you say?" Lin Tao turned to Zhang Tianyou, eyes filled with absurd disbelief.
[Zhao Desheng, the owner of Bit Infinite, has been borrowing millions in usurious loans using the company's name. Next month, under the pretext of an 'overseas business trip,' he'll drain the company accounts and vanish into thin air.]
[Lin Tao and the rest of those poor employees will be stiffed three months' salary—and never find him again.]
Zhang Tianyou's thoughts rippled with absolute calm.
And every word transmitted, crystal clear, through invisible waves—into the brain of the woman standing at the alley's entrance.
Wang Wanru listened, heart pounding. For the first time, she understood the filth and evil lurking beneath the shiny surface of the business world. Things ordinary people couldn't even imagine.
Zhang Tianyou looked at Lin Tao. Didn't explain. Just asked:
"Has your company missed two months of payroll already?"
Lin Tao's pupils dilated again.
"Did they tell you it's because of some big project in the pipeline—temporary cash flow issues?"
Lin Tao's lips began to tremble.
"That boss of yours, Zhao Desheng—did he buy a new Mercedes S-Class last week?"
Lin Tao's face went ashen.
Every word Zhang Tianyou spoke was a hammer blow, shattering the last pathetic illusions he'd clung to.
He'd suspected. Of course he had.
But he kept telling himself: Just hold on a little longer. The project bonus will come through.
Now reality had been ripped open, bloodily, by this mysterious stranger.
He stared at Zhang Tianyou—eyes shifting from shock to something like... dread.
If the first sentence proved this man was a god of technology...
Then the second sentence proved he was a DEMON in the real world.
An all-knowing, omniscient demon.
Lin Tao felt like a pitiful insect, stripped naked before this man—his very soul laid bare.
Decades of pride. Crushed.
All he could do now was look up.
Just when he felt like he was drowning—overwhelmed by information, suffocating—Zhang Tianyou's third sentence finally came.
It was like a blade of light slicing through the darkness. Like a divine hand reaching down from the clouds.
"Join my company."
"I'll give you a million annual salary. Plus thirty percent."
"I have only one requirement."
Zhang Tianyou looked directly into Lin Tao's eyes, speaking each word deliberately:
"Let you develop a system of your own. One that can change the world."
BOOOOOOM!
Lin Tao's mind EXPLODED.
Million annual salary?
Thirty percent equity?
Develop... his own system?
This... this was a scene he wouldn't even dare dream!
Right now, his monthly salary was eight thousand! His boss's empty promises never materialized! Every line of code he wrote felt like embroidering flowers on a pig—pointless!
His greatest dream was simple: stop worrying about eating. Find a stage where he could turn the crazy, magnificent ideas in his head into reality.
And now—that dream was being smashed into his face by this godlike man, in the most direct, most, most undeniable way possible!
Lin Tao stared at Zhang Tianyou. His eyes cycled through dread, disbelief—and finally settled into something like religious fervor. Worship.
He knew—the man before him was his destined savior. The only one who could drag him out of hell and make his dreams real.
He couldn't control himself anymore. He shot up from that chair!
The move was so violent it knocked over the pile of instant noodle cups—crashing, spilling everywhere.
The only thing in his universe was this man!
He looked at Zhang Tianyou, gathered every ounce of strength in his body, and bowed—deeply, at a ninety-degree angle.
It wasn't the bow of an employee to a boss.
It was the prostration of a believer before his GOD!
He raised his head. Those bloodshot eyes—reignited with light!
It was the kind of fire that could scorch the earth. The fire called hope and ambition.
In a voice hoarse but rock-solid, he roared out the sentence that would change his life—and in the future, shake the entire world.
"BOSS!"
"From now on—Lin Tao's life is YOURS!"
"I'M WITH YOU!!!"
- Writer
