Chapter 91 introduces the Starry Sea suite, a counter-sanction against overseas software.

Chu Xuan wiped the sweat from his forehead and slicked his damp, parted hair back.

He rolled his eyes, licking his dry lips.

"Are they afraid we'll sue them for monopoly?"

Chu Xuan stepped closer, asking tentatively.

"If we take this to an international court, the damages alone would make them bleed."

Lu Jingming scoffed.

He flipped his wrist, and that paint-chipped plastic lighter flew from his hand.

With a crisp "clack," the hard plastic hit the mahogany desk and slid half a meter away.

"Lawsuits can drag on for three years; by the time a verdict is reached, it'll be too late."

Lu Jingming clasped his hands behind his head, his eyes glinting with a razor-sharp coldness.

"They're afraid we'll turn the tables and have them by the throat."

Chu Xuan froze, a bit confused.

"Have them by the throat? We sell hardware, what can we use to choke the software giants?"

"To the underground lab."

Lu Jingming stood up and straightened the hem of his black T-shirt.

"Let those Silicon Valley geezers see what true software hegemony is."

In Lab No. 1, the air conditioning was blowing so cold it gave people goosebumps.

Xia Weiliang was sitting cross-legged on a swivel chair, barefoot.

She had an unfinished Apple in her mouth, her hands smashing against the mechanical keyboard, leaving afterimages.

Lu Jingming pushed the door open and tapped on the stainless steel table.

"Forget about those scrap codes for a moment. I've got a big job for you."

Xia Weiliang didn't even lift her eyelids.

"Spit it out, I just found inspiration for this algorithm set."

"Write an interception protocol into the underlying layer of Xinghai OS."

Lu Jingming pulled up a chair and sat down, his tone as casual as ordering takeout.

"Create a 'take-it-or-leave-it' clause for our app store."

He stared at the blue characters scrolling on the screen.

"From now on, all Xinghai devices will forcibly block the installation of any software under the Google and Apple alliance."

"Crunch."

Xia Weiliang stopped biting the Apple.

She turned her head, her thick-rimmed glasses sliding down her nose.

"Ban them all?"

She tossed the Apple core into the trash can by her feet, her eyes shining like searchlights.

"Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and even their underlying frameworks, not a single one left?"

"Not a single one."

Lu Jingming crossed his fingers and rested them on the edge of the table.

"Didn't they want to cut off my internet? I'm just going to flip their table over."

Chu Xuan, standing behind him, gasped.

"Mr. Lu, isn't this taking too big a step!"

He paced anxiously, his leather shoes making a harsh screeching sound on the tiles.

"Foreigners are used to those social apps; if we cut them off completely, they're definitely going to demand refunds."

Chu Xuan looked worried.

"This is equivalent to forcing users to choose between their phones and their software."

Xia Weiliang rolled her eyes, too lazy to bother with him.

She turned back to the computer, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

"You hick, you're underestimating the Xinghai suite I wrote."

She snorted coldly and typed the first line of the interception code.

"Our Xinghai Social and Xinghai Video not only have no ads, but the algorithm recommendation system is two generations ahead of that junk the foreigners use."

"Once they use it, they'll be hooked for life."

Lu Jingming stood up and glanced at the rapidly generating code progress bar.

"Push the OTA system update. Tonight, I want to see the joke that is the people in Silicon Valley."

In a street-side cafe in Los Angeles, California.

Sunlight spilled onto the wooden table through the parasol.

David took a bite of his sandwich and wiped the grease from his hands onto a napkin.

He picked up the xinghai pad he had bought just two days ago.

A system update prompt popped up on the screen.

David didn't think much of it and clicked confirm.

After the progress bar finished, he habitually clicked on the YouTube icon, wanting to watch a talk show.

The screen flickered, and a white pop-up window with blue text appeared.

"This application has been detected as part of a malicious monopoly alliance, and Xinghai OS has forcibly blocked it. We recommend the purer Xinghai Video for you."

David was stunned.

"Fuck, is this tablet infected?"

He cursed, his fingers tapping irritably on the recommendation button at the bottom of the pop-up.

The screen transitioned smoothly to the main interface of Xinghai Video.

There were no annoying thirty-second countdown ads.

It started playing the high-definition talk show immediately.

David's finger, which was about to exit, froze in mid-air.

He tried searching for a few bloggers he usually followed.

The videos opened instantly, and the bullet comment interaction was infinitely smoother than YouTube.

A companion at the next table leaned over and took a look at his screen.

"Bro, did you switch players? This interface looks pretty high-end."

David swallowed a mouthful of coffee, his eyes glued to the tablet.

"Google has been banned by this machine."

He shrugged and casually dragged the YouTube icon into the trash bin.

"But who cares? This thing is ten thousand times better than that trash that only knows how to stuff ads."

There were tens of millions of overseas users like David.

At first, they would complain a bit.

But after experiencing the silky, seamless switching of the Xinghai native ecosystem, they all defected.

No one went to demand refunds.

Instead, they started frantically registering new accounts on Xinghai's social platforms, afraid they would miss out.

On the other side of the ocean.

In a panoramic conference room in Silicon Valley, the air pressure was low enough to crush someone.

Several huge screens hung on the wall, connected to an international video conference.

Cook sat at the end of the long table, his face ashen.

His face, usually full of shrewd calculations, was now taut.

On the left side of the screen was Google's Andy Rubin.

On the right was Facebook's founder, Zuck.

These oligarchs, who could make the global internet tremble with a single stomp, had all become ants on a hot pan.

"One day! Just one day!"

Andy grabbed his messy hair, his eyes filled with terrifying red bloodshot veins.

He slapped the data report on the table, the pages flapping loudly.

"Our mobile daily active user data has evaporated by forty percent!"

Andy's voice was hoarse, as if he had swallowed a handful of sand.

"Those Chinese people wrote a dead-loop interception in the underlying layer of the system, they didn't even leave us a backdoor!"

Zuck was also sweating profusely on the other end of the video.

The armpits of his eternal grey T-shirt were soaked.

"Our stock price plummeted at the opening; those vampires on Wall Street are selling off like crazy."

Zuck gritted his teeth, wishing he could bite someone through the screen.

"Users have all run off to use Xinghai's native software. Our advertising revenue has been cut in half!"

The conference room was deathly silent.

Only the hissing sound of the central air conditioning leaking air could be heard.

Cook took off his gold-rimmed glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He had never fought such a frustrating battle in his life.

He thought banning GMS would cut Xinghai off from the internet, but instead, they backhanded them and flipped their entire foundation.

"We have to sue them!"

Paul from Qualcomm was also in the video, the bump on his head not yet fully gone.

"This is naked malicious competition! Sue them until they go bankrupt!"

Cook sneered and put his glasses back on.

He looked at Paul as if he were looking at a brainless idiot.

"Sue? With what?"

He braced his hands on the table, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.

"Their user agreement is written clearly: it's to protect user privacy from being harassed by rogue software."

Cook let out a heavy breath.

"In the loopholes of the law, we are the ones in the wrong, the rogue."

Andy slumped in his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"These lunatics have built an iron turtle shell that you can't even stick a needle into."

He muttered, his voice filled with despair.

"We can't beat them with business tactics; the system is as closed as a black hole."

The giants looked at each other's faces on the video.

No one could come up with a decent strategy.

They couldn't outspend Xinghai, and their technology was being rubbed into the dirt by them.

How else could they fight this battle?

Cook stood up abruptly.

His leather swivel chair was pushed back half a meter, hitting the glass wall with a "thud."

He pressed his hands hard against the edge of the conference table, a flash of desperate madness in his eyes.

The demeanor of those Silicon Valley executives, usually maintaining a facade of decency, was shattered completely.

"If business tactics don't work, then we'll change the way we play."

Cook gritted his back teeth, squeezing the words out through his teeth.

The people in the video were stunned.

Andy sat up straight, "Change to what way of playing?"

"Everyone here, stop clutching your purses."

Cook stared at the faces of the big capitalists in the video, his eyes vicious and ruthless.

"Use all the political contributions you have."

He slammed his hand on the solid wood table, shaking a few drops of brown water from the coffee cup nearby.

"This is no longer a market struggle between a few companies. This is a provocation against our country's technological lifeline."

Cook straightened up, smoothing out the slightly wrinkled collar of his suit.

His voice was as cold as an ice knife in the dead of winter.

"I want the people at the Department of Commerce to go to the White House immediately."