99: Chapter 99: Local Specialty Products Are Unreleased Top-Tier Smartphones?

He uploaded the video to his short video account.

The video uploaded successfully.

The moment the progress bar finished, the gears of fate began to turn for this account with the ID "Passerby A".

The title was long and very casual:

[Back to my hometown for the New Year. The boss of Guanghui Technology is my cousin's childhood friend. He brought back a truckload of local specialties. Can everyone help me see what this pink cat is? And that black phone, they say it's 5nm?]

At first, the video only had a few scattered likes.

Ten minutes later.

The data curve showed a terrifying vertical spike.

A well-known tech blogger, "Old Dai from the Tech Circle," was livestreaming and browsing, when he casually clicked on a link sent by a fan in his private messages.

"Guanghui Technology? Local specialties? Another clickbait title..."

Old Dai muttered, taking a sip of cola nonchalantly.

The video footage was a bit shaky, with a noisy rural courtyard in the background.

But the image quality was extremely high.

So high that one could clearly see the micron-level seams on the shell of that pink robotic cat.

"Pfft—!!"

Old Dai spat his mouthful of cola directly onto the screen.

He didn't bother to wipe it, his face almost pressed against the monitor, his mouse clicking pause frantically.

The screen froze.

It was a dorami.

Not a plastic model.

There was a shimmering light in its eyes; it was the reflection of a high-end optical lens.

There was a slight undulation from hydraulic transmission at its joints.

What was most outrageous was the black phone box next to it.

Old Dai's hands trembled as he zoomed in on the specification sheet in the corner of the screen.

Although it was only a fleeting glimpse.

But he saw it clearly.

[Process: 5nm FinFET EUV]

The livestream chat paused for a second.

Then, it completely exploded.

"Did I see that wrong? Is that 5nm??"

"Isn't the Snapdragon 845 only 10nm now? And the Apple A11 is also 10nm, right? How the hell did it jump straight to 5nm??"

"How is this possible? Who could manufacture 5nm? Stop kidding around!!"

"Indeed, as an expert in the mobile phone circle, I can clearly tell you that a 5nm SoC is impossible!"

"Forget about the nm, you guys upstairs! Didn't you see that dorami? It even blinked!!"

"Is this what Guanghui Technology meant by insufficient production capacity? By hauling a truckload back to the village to give to relatives??"

"I'm devastated, guys! I can't grab a Doraemon on the official website, and their cousin is using a dorami as a figurine!"

"@Guanghui Technology, don't play dead! Come out and explain! Why are you giving away strategic-level products like cheap cabbage!"

On the trending topics list.

The entry #Guanghui Technology 5nm Chip# shot up like a rocket and landed directly at number one.

It even pushed #Spring Festival Gala Program List# off the top spot.

Countless tech media outlets dragged their editors out of their sleep overnight to write articles.

That night.

Lu Li was cracking melon seeds in the village.

Yet the global tech circle was hit by a magnitude-10 earthquake because of the "New Year's goods" he had casually given away.

...

Meanwhile.

Jingzhou City No. 1 Detention Center.

You couldn't hear the sound of firecrackers here.

Only the teeth-grinding sound of metal clashing when the iron gates closed.

Fan Yu huddled in the corner.

The expensive custom suit he wore had long been replaced by a gray vest.

Number 09527.

This was his only name now.

It was very cold here, with no floor heating, only the biting wind seeping in from the high air vents.

"09527, you have a visitor."

The guard's cold voice came through.

Fan Yu jerked his head up.

He scrambled to the door, the iron shackles clanking against the floor.

The visitation room.

Separated by thick, explosion-proof glass.

Fan Yu grabbed the phone, his knuckles turning white from overexertion.

A woman sat opposite him.

It was his mother.

The noblewoman who usually maintained herself well now had messy hair and puffy eye bags, looking as if she had aged ten years.

"Mom! Where's Dad? Where's Grandpa?"

Fan Yu's voice was hoarse, as if his throat were filled with gravel: "Get them to save me! I can't stay in this damn place for another minute! That Lu Li... give that Lu Li money! Give him shares! As long as we can settle this, anything is fine!"

He was still dreaming.

Thinking this was just a normal commercial dispute.

Thinking this was just a game between capitalists.

The woman looked at her crazed son, her lips trembling, tears sliding down silently.

She raised her hand, her palm pressed against the glass.

"Xiaoyu..."

"It's useless."

Fan Yu froze.

In those bloodshot eyes, a trace of confusion appeared: "What do you mean it's useless? We are the Fan Family! Grandpa is a retired vice-provincial governor..."

"Your dad is also under investigation."

The woman's single sentence.

Completely shattered all of Fan Yu's psychological defenses.

The receiver slipped from his hand.

It hit the counter with a dull thud.

The woman's sobs came intermittently from the dangling receiver:

"Just a moment ago... people from the Ministry of State Security came."

"They said... you are suspected of endangering national security..."

"Your dad can't even protect himself..."

"Xiaoyu, our family... is finished."

Fan Yu opened his mouth.

A "wheezing" sound like a bellows came from his throat.

State Security?

Endangering national security?

He just wanted to take down a small company making mobile phones!

He just wanted to kill a live-in son-in-law who lived off his wife!

How could he have provoked State Security?

How could it have turned into endangering national security?

An unprecedented fear shot straight from his tailbone to his scalp.

He finally realized.

He hadn't kicked an iron plate; he had kicked a nuclear missile silo.

...

The Fan Family's old residence.

The courtyard, which used to be bustling with visitors, was now deathly silent.

Inside the study.

Chairman Fan Jianguo hung up one phone call after another, frantic and overwhelmed; with each hang-up, his face grew paler.

Tianqiong Interactive Entertainment's stock price had hit the limit down for several consecutive days, with its market value evaporating by nearly 100 billion.

All partners were distancing themselves, banks were calling in loans, and the entire business empire was tottering on the brink of collapse.

The study door was pushed open, and an elderly man with a vigorous spirit but a grave expression walked in.

It was the pillar of the Fan Family, Fan Yu's grandfather, that retired vice-provincial governor.

"Dad!" Chairman Fan Jianguo stood up as if he had seen a savior.

The old man wearily waved his hand and plopped down onto the sofa, as if all his strength had been drained from him.

He spoke hoarsely: "I have used every connection I could possibly use in my life."

A glimmer of hope ignited in Chairman Fan Jianguo's eyes.

But the old man slowly shook his head, his face full of despair.

"No one dares to help, and no one can help."

"The other party's level... is too high."

"So high that a single word from them could plunge our entire Fan Family into eternal doom."