413: Let's delete Chapter 413.

The operation began. Green dots on the screen spread out like a Swarm, without any collisions, repetitions, or omissions.

The first round was completed after twenty minutes.

Data popped up: water consumption was 47% lower than manual scheduling, diesel consumption was 53% lower, and the overlap rate was better than 1%.

Cambodia Prime Minister Somsak—who was at the press conference in Yangon at that moment—stood up and said to the camera, "I, on behalf of the people of Cambodia, bear witness to this moment.

From today on, every piece of farmland in Cambodia will be managed by Pangu.

This is a victory for technology, and even more so, a victory for the farmers."

He paused for a moment and added a remark that made Western tech companies shudder: "We do not need Claude.

We need AI to farm for us, not to decide for us what 'freedom' is."

After speaking, he raised his phone, which showed real-time comments from an online agricultural forum—written in Khmer by a rice farmer in Siem Reap: "Today, Pangu adjusted the pump station two hours faster than the town's water manager, and my rice seedlings didn't get waterlogged.

Thank you, Pangu. Thank you, Shuguang Technology."

The last three words of the press conference were spoken by Chen Lan as she looked into the Lens: "Pangu is completely open source."

The entire venue erupted with camera flashes.

All code and model weights were released online, available for free download by global developers—the final version of the open-source agreement bore a line of small golden text: "We reserve the right to refuse technical support to any entity that has ever blockaded us."

There was no company name, but no one needed to ask who that was.

The press conference ended at 3:40 PM Yangon time.

The New York Stock Exchange opened.

Anthropic's stock price triggered three circuit breakers within six minutes, falling by 57.3% by the close, with over $22 billion in market value evaporated in a single day.

Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley jointly released a report after the close, with the conclusion written in bold, black text on the same page: "Based on the current technological generation gap and open-source strategy, Anthropic will not have independent commercial sustainability within the next three to five fiscal years."

When investors asked, "How big is the technological generation gap?", the report replied with only one sentence: "Ten times the parameters, one hundred days of computing power.

What do they have to catch up with?"

Amodei posted his last tweet on Twitter: "This is impossible.

There must be cheating—they couldn't have built a quantum computer in three days."

Twelve minutes after posting it, he deleted it.

Because in the twelve minutes after it was posted, the official Shuguang Technology account retweeted his post and attached a three-second short video:

Outside the Tianshu Laboratory, that titanium alloy crate labeled "QUBIT-ARRAY-001" was being loaded by a forklift into the loading platform on the fifth underground level; the temperature control screen on the surface of the crate was flickering with the delivery timestamp from 72 hours ago.

The reply section was flooded with the same meme—a monkey covering its face, with only three words on the image: "Just delete it."

Zhang Cheng closed his laptop and stood up from behind the one-way glass of the control room.

Li Lanzhi handed him a cup of room-temperature Pu'er tea; he took a sip and watched the reporters leaving downstairs.

"Samsung Electronics' Lee Jae-yong's encrypted email has arrived," Li Lanzhi said, "as well as Microsoft's Nadella's, Huawei's rotating chairman's, and DeepMind's Hassabis's.

Adding up to thirty-seven companies, all with the same request—to send a team to visit the Tianshu Laboratory."

Zhang Cheng placed the teacup on the table.

"Reply to them: Arrange the itinerary.

Visit specifications—limit five people per company, security review period of seven days, sign a non-disclosure agreement before visiting.

We will cover the costs.

In addition," he paused, "name the visiting delegation 'Dialogue of Civilizations'.

Tell Chen Lan to be ready to open all laboratories except for the quantum computing core.

Let them look, let them touch, let them run their own test programs on Pangu themselves.

After they go back, let them never be able to say to their boards, 'They must be cheating'—let them witness the generation gap with their own eyes, so they can't sleep well after they go back."

Li Lanzhi finished recording and looked up.

"What about Anthropic?"

Zhang Cheng glanced at the last screenshot from the live stream replay before Amodei deleted his post, and turned his phone over.

"Let him come find me himself."

One month later.

Yangon, Shuguang Technology Building.

The huge LED screen on the glass curtain wall scrolled four words—"Dialogue of Civilizations—Global AI Future Summit."

The subtitles appeared in thirty-two languages in rotation, with the same sentence added to the end of each cycle: "Welcome to a future without barriers."

At the building entrance, two rows of security personnel in black uniforms stood on both sides of the security checkpoint—not ordinary security guards, but Advanced Death Soldiers customized by Shuguang Military Industry, hiding augmented reality tactical helmets and subcutaneous ceramic bulletproof implant layers beneath their standard, professional disguises.

Everyone's iris scanner completed identity verification, weapon detection, facial micro-expression analysis, and physiological stress indicator assessment within 0.3 seconds of the guest crossing the threshold.

The data was aggregated to the security command center on the second underground level, where a lightweight sub-model of "Pangu" analyzed in real-time whether any infiltration threat existed.

A French journalist whispered to a companion during the security check: "The security here is even stricter than the Pentagon."

The Death Soldiers security did not respond, but simply said in standard English: "Welcome to Yangon.

Please set your mobile phones to silent mode—this is not a security requirement, but to protect your ears.

Pangu's external demonstration volume may exceed 80 decibels; we do not want you to be startled."

The reporter only then noticed a row of brand-new noise-canceling earplugs placed at the exit of the security checkpoint, available for free use.

9:00 AM sharp.

The main conference hall of the building, with 320 seats, was packed.

The list of attendees read like an index of the history of human-computer interaction technology—Demis Hassabis of Google DeepMind, Peter Lee of Microsoft Research, Zhou Bin of Huawei Noah's Ark Lab, Lee Seung-man of Samsung Advanced Institute of Technology, Daniela Rus of MIT CSAIL, and science ministers or presidential science advisors from seventeen developing countries including Ethiopia, Kenya, Bangladesh, and Brazil.

They sat in the same row, and the nameplates in front of them only had their names and institutions, with no titles or ranks.

Zhang Cheng did not appear in the conference hall.

He was in the panoramic office on the top floor of the building, looking down at the venue through the one-way glass.

On his left was a real-time monitoring screen displaying the physiological stress indicators of each attendee—heart rate, galvanic skin response, and pupil diameter.

He knew clearly in his heart that the real contest was not in this conference room, not on the demonstration screen, but in this data—whose heart rate suddenly accelerated when seeing a certain demonstration, and the country they represented was likely to become the next breakthrough point.

Dr. Lin Lan walked onto the podium.

He was thirty-five years old, wearing rimless glasses, and looked more like a university lecturer than the Chief Scientist of Shuguang Technology.

His implanted resume was flawless—Ph.D. in Quantum Physics from MIT, former Chief Architect of Google's Quantum AI Lab, and had published fourteen cover papers in Nature.

But beneath this gentle and refined exterior, the absolute loyalty core code of the Death Soldiers system was running.