Chapter 120 Apple panicked and forcibly launched a half-finished product to follow suit.

That few-second clip of the rant spread like a malignant tumor with wings.

Within ten minutes, it had bloodied Twitter, YouTube, and TikTok, sweeping across every major platform.

The three words "Pull the plug."

Became a blood-red label hanging at the top of the overseas internet's trending lists.

Wall Street's tech stock market took an instant nosedive.

The first to bear the brunt was that giant, which raked in billions of dollars a year by selling data cables and charging heads.

California, Cupertino.

In Apple's headquarters, that circular glass building they were so proud of, no fire alarm went off today.

But the air inside the building was so oppressive that one could smell the scent of blood with every breath.

Senior executives in the corridors moved with chaotic footsteps.

Their leather shoes tapped frantically against the floor.

No one dared to make a sound.

The top-floor CEO office.

The solid wood double doors were tightly shut.

"Bang!"

A dull, massive crash erupted from behind the door panels.

A metal trash can was sent flying by a kick.

It slammed heavily into the explosion-proof glass, leaving a large dent.

Crumpled papers mixed with unfinished black coffee grounds scattered all over the floor.

Cook pressed his hands firmly against the edge of the mahogany desk.

A large, dark patch of sweat had seeped through the back of his well-tailored silver-gray suit.

It clung to his skin, ice-cold.

His tie was pulled crookedly.

He stared fixedly at the tablet on the desk that was still looping the Xinghai launch event.

On the screen.

The sight of Lu Jingming sitting on the sofa drinking iced cola was like a rusty iron nail.

It was driven hard into Cook's optic nerve.

"Fake... it's all a damn smoke screen!"

Cook gasped heavily, his chest heaving violently.

The red bloodshot lines in the whites of his eyes spread rapidly like spiderwebs.

His Adam's Apple bobbed with difficulty.

He forcibly swallowed a mouthful of dry, metallic-tasting saliva.

Several Greater China Executives nearby shrank their necks, their legs trembling uncontrollably.

"B-Boss."

One Greater China Executive braced himself and stepped forward half a pace, his voice trembling uncontrollably.

"We got a call from NASDAQ; several major institutions have started panic-selling our stock."

He wiped the cold sweat seeping from his forehead with his cuff.

"With Xinghai's over-the-air charging out, our closed accessory ecosystem has effectively been stomped to pieces."

Cook snapped his head up.

His gaze, like a venomous snake in a gutter, locked onto the executive's face.

"The ecosystem isn't broken! Apple is still the king of Silicon Valley!"

He gritted his molars, producing a teeth-grinding "creak."

He grabbed the landline receiver from the desk and slammed it back down hard.

A corner of the plastic casing cracked.

"Go to the lab! Go now!"

Cook rounded the desk and strode out.

His expensive leather shoes stepped on the coffee grounds, making a sticky sound.

The executives hurriedly followed.

The group swarmed toward the underground R&D center like stray dogs.

Three floors underground, the core hardware laboratory.

White cold lights made everyone's faces look ghastly pale.

The air conditioner wheezed, blowing out cold air.

Dozens of engineers in anti-static suits were circling the workbench, anxious and frantic.

On the workbench sat several white, disc-shaped objects.

These were the "magnetic wireless chargers" that Apple had been developing for half a year, originally intended for a forced launch next spring.

Cook kicked open the lab's glass door.

The door slammed against the doorstop with a piercing protest.

"Charles!"

Cook roared at the chief engineer, his voice hoarse and cracking.

"Arrange for mass production and market launch of that magnetic charging disc immediately!"

Charles was an old man with graying hair.

Upon hearing this, the soldering iron in his hand jolted violently.

The scorching hot tip poked directly into a test motherboard.

With a "hiss," a plume of pungent black smoke rose up.

"Boss, what kind of joke is this!"

Charles hurriedly unplugged the power, turning around with a look of horror.

"The conversion rate of this thing doesn't meet standards at all! The coil design has fatal flaws!"

Cook walked over in a few strides.

He pushed aside the test equipment blocking his way, staring fixedly at the white disc on the table.

"Xinghai's over-the-air charging is already online! The whole world is laughing at us!"

Cook pointed at the scorched motherboard.

"If Apple can't produce a contactless charging device to counter this before the sun rises tomorrow."

His eyelid twitched violently, "Wall Street will swallow us alive!"

Charles swallowed dryly.

A wheezing sound like a bellows came from his throat.

He grabbed a test report from the table, the pages rustling loudly in his grip.

"But Boss, this can't even compare to Xinghai's over-the-air technology!"

Charles pointed to the red curve on the report.

"What we have is contact-based charging; it must be stuck firmly to the back of the phone, without even a millimeter of gap!"

The old man slapped his thighs in anxiety, making loud popping sounds.

"If it deviates even a little bit, the electricity being charged will turn into pure thermal energy!"

Cook gritted his teeth and said nothing.

His breathing was as heavy as an ox that had just finished a marathon.

His heart hammered in his chest, hitting his ribs painfully.

"That's not important." Cook squeezed the words through his teeth.

"Then call it a revolutionary magnetic experience."

He sneered, a sense of desperate madness showing through.

"Tell the media this is safer than microwaves suspended in mid-air."

Charles thought the boss had gone crazy.

The cold sweat on his forehead trickled down his brow wrinkles.

It dripped into his eyes, stinging painfully.

If they didn't follow up, Apple's technological halo would be completely crushed by Xinghai.

The only thought left in Cook's mind now was one thing.

Force it through.

Even if it was a defective product.

They had to make a counter-offensive gesture in terms of form.

"This isn't a question of safety!"

Charles grabbed an infrared thermometer gun and aimed it at the prototype being tested nearby.

He pulled the trigger.

"Beep."

A glaring number popped up on the screen.

Forty-eight degrees.

"Look closely!"

Charles's voice trembled.

"That's the temperature without a phone case! Once this thing starts working, the heat generated on the backplate is enough to fry an egg!"

The muscles on Cook's face twitched twice.

"We can just write a downclocking patch into the system."

He dug his fingers into the stainless steel table, "Once the temperature gets high, we force the charging power to lock at five watts. Users will just think the charging is slow; they won't blame the hardware."

Charles's mouth hung wide open, his dentures nearly falling out.

Forcibly locking a tens-of-watts fast charger to a snail's pace?

How is this any different from selling a scalding hot brick!

"Boss, the physics of lithium batteries are what they are!"

Charles's back pressed against the cold workbench, his voice completely breaking.

"Continuous high-temperature baking will melt the internal separators of the battery!"

Cook's patience was completely exhausted.

That phone from Xinghai that didn't need a plug was like a guillotine hanging over Apple's head.

He didn't have time to polish some damn bottom line.

Cook lunged forward.

He grabbed the collar of Charles's white lab coat.

His knuckles turned bluish-white from excessive force.

The chief engineer was drenched in sweat, holding onto the chassis containing the prototype for dear life.

"Boss! The coil heat of this thing will exceed fifty degrees! The battery will explode!"

Cook yanked the engineer's collar, his eyes full of bloodshot veins.

"Let it explode! Tell the PR department this is called smart temperature control! Put it on the market immediately!"