169: Chapter 169 An "Unexpected" Incident Under the Cover of Night

Tokyo, Minato Ward, JSR Headquarters.

President Koji Yamada stared at the stock price curve on the screen, his face ashen. A dozen executives sat in the conference room, the atmosphere heavy.

"Can anyone tell me," Yamada's voice was low, "why the Chinese were able to do in two years what took us thirty years?"

Technology Division Chief Nakamura lowered his head: "President, according to the intelligence we received, Xinghuo poached three senior engineers from our branch in Taiwan, and... Dr. Matsumoto, who left us last year, is now also at Xinghuo."

"Traitors!" someone cursed angrily.

"No," Yamada shook his head. "If they could make photoresist just by poaching a few people, the Chinese would have done it long ago. They must have found a new technical route."

He pulled up the Japanese translation of the Xinghuo announcement: "'Key performance indicators have reached the international advanced level'... This sentence is terrifying. If it's true, our KrF business will lose at least 30% of its global market share."

"Then should we lower prices?" the Business Division Chief suggested. "Use a price war to nip them in the bud."

"Foolish." Yamada glared at him. "Lowering prices will only let the Chinese occupy the market faster. And..." He paused, "America will not allow us to lower prices."

The conference room went quiet.

Everyone understood the meaning of this sentence—America is doing everything in its power to contain the development of China's semiconductor industry. If Japanese companies used a price war to help America lower costs, Washington would immediately apply pressure.

"Then what should we do?"

Yamada thought for a long time: "First, immediately send a technical team to China under the guise of 'technical exchange' to understand their true level on the ground. Second, start the accelerated R&D of EUV photoresist; we must widen the generation gap. Third..." A cold light flashed in his eyes, "Contact our friends in Washington; it's time to play the 'CIA' card."

6:00 PM, Tokyo stock market closed.

JSR eventually fell by 9.1%, Tokyo Ohka Kogyo fell by 8.7%, and Shin-Etsu Chemical fell by 8.5%. The market value of the three companies evaporated by more than 500 billion yen in one day.

Meanwhile in Shenzhen, Su Chen had just finished a meeting when he received the news of the breakthrough in photoresist.

He sent a message to Chen Wei: "Thank you for your hard work. Please express my gratitude to the team on my behalf. Also, stay safe."

Chen Wei replied: "Thank you, President Su. We will continue to push forward with ArF and EUV."

Su Chen put down his phone and walked to the window.

The sun was setting, and Shencheng Bay was dyed golden. In the distance, the skyscrapers of Hong Kong began to light up.

The breakthrough in photoresist might seem like just an advancement in the materials field, but its significance goes far beyond that—it announces to the whole world that the Chinese semiconductor industry is breaking through all technical barriers. From design to manufacturing to materials, a fully autonomous chain is no longer a slogan, but a reality that is happening.

And such a reality will keep many people awake at night.

January 19, 6:15 PM, Shenzhen, Xinghuo Chip R&D Center.

Lin Haoran closed his computer and rubbed his sore eyes. As the Vice President of chip Architecture at Xinghuo Chip, he had just completed the final simulation verification for the "Flint-4" 7nm chip. Data showed that this chip's performance was 35% higher than the previous generation, and power consumption was reduced by 40%, reaching the world's top level.

"VP Lin, you're not leaving yet?" Assistant Zhang poked his head in.

"Right away." Lin Haoran saved all the data and started the encrypted backup program. This was the rule—all core design files must be backed up daily to a physically isolated server.

He picked up the photo frame on the table; it was a photo of him with his wife and daughter. His daughter was five years old, wearing pigtails, smiling very sweetly. On the back of the photo was his wife's elegant handwriting: "Come home safely."

Lin Haoran smiled and carefully put the photo frame into his briefcase.

Walking out of the office, there were not many people in the corridor. The Xinghuo Chip R&D team implemented a flexible working system, but most engineers would consciously work overtime until very late—in this industry, being one step faster means life, and being one step slower means death.

In the underground garage, his car was parked in his exclusive spot. This was not an ordinary Red Flag H8, but a specially modified "Executive Protection Version":

Body: Military-grade armored steel frame, can withstand 7.62mm rifle fire.

Glass: Three-layer composite bulletproof glass with polyethylene explosion-proof film in the middle.

Chassis: V-shaped explosion-proof design, can withstand an 8kg TNT equivalent landmine explosion.

Tires: Self-sealing explosion-proof tires, can still travel 50km at 80km/h after being hit by bullets.

System: Independent oxygen supply, fire suppression and explosion prevention, satellite positioning, emergency rescue...

These modifications cost 1.2 million yuan and were equipped by the company for all core technical personnel. In the words of Security Minister Li Jianfeng: "Your brains are more precious than gold and must be protected with the best things."

Lin Haoran sat in the driver's seat, the facial recognition system confirmed his identity, and the vehicle started. The center console display showed the navigation route—the regular route home, 12 kilometers in total, estimated at 25 minutes.

He fastened his seat belt and opened his phone to send a voice message to his wife: "I'm leaving, I'll be there in half an hour. Has Niu Niu eaten?"

His wife replied quickly: "Not yet, she insists on waiting for Dad to come home to eat together. Drive carefully."

"Okay."

The vehicle drove out of the park and merged into the traffic on Binhai Avenue. Shenzhen in the evening, with lights just coming on, was bustling with traffic. He walked this road every day, familiar with every intersection and every traffic jam point.

Traffic was good today. Lin Haoran turned on the stereo and played his daughter's favorite nursery rhyme, "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." He hummed along, thinking about what story he should tell his daughter when he got home—he promised to tell her "how chips are made" last night, and the five-year-old actually listened with great interest.

There were ten seconds left for the green light ahead, and he stepped on the accelerator to pass.

Everything was as usual.

6:32 PM, the intersection of Binhai Avenue and Keji South Road.

Lin Haoran's car was waiting for the red light in the left-turn lane. In the straight lane next to him, a red heavy truck slowly stopped. The truck was fully loaded with steel coils, each over two meters in diameter, fixed with steel cables. The license plate was covered with thick mud, and only the beginning of "Yue B" could be vaguely seen.

In the truck cabin, the driver wore a black baseball cap, the brim pulled very low. English came from his headset with a slight electronic synthesized effect: "Target confirmed, silver Red Flag H8, license plate Yue B 3A668, one person in the cab. Execute Plan A."

The driver did not respond, just tapped the microphone twice—indicating receipt.

He looked down at the screen under the dashboard, which showed a real-time satellite map, marking the precise location, speed, and heading of Lin Haoran's vehicle. There was also a line of small print: "Kinetic energy calculation: 32 tons x 70km/h vs 2.1 tons x 20km/h = kinetic energy ratio 22:1. Survival probability: less than 3%."

There were three seconds left on the green light.

The truck driver took a deep breath, his right hand gripping the steering wheel, his left hand on the gear lever.

Two seconds.

His foot slowly stepped on the accelerator, the engine emitting a low roar.

One second.

Lin Haoran's car started to move, the left turn signal flashing.

The green light turned on.

Now!

The truck driver jerked the steering wheel and floored the accelerator at the same time! The 32-ton behemoth, like an out-of-control beast, slammed sideways into the turning Red Flag H8!

The collision happened in a flash.

Lin Haoran only saw a huge red shadow coming from the left, and then a deafening sound spun the world around. The bulletproof glass was instantly covered in spiderweb cracks, but it did not shatter. The airbag exploded in 0.02 seconds, the huge impact making his chest feel like it had been hit by a sledgehammer.

The vehicle was knocked sideways and rolled in the air. The world turned into slow motion: fragments of the dashboard flew, the nursery rhyme was still playing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star," and the seat belt dug tightly into his shoulder.

First roll, the roof hit the ground, the roll cage making a loud sound of metal twisting.

Second roll, the side scraped against the guardrail, sparks flying.

Third roll, the vehicle finally stopped, upside down.

The truck's speed did not slow down at all. After knocking the H8 away, the driver calmly corrected the steering and accelerated away from the scene. The whole process took no more than five seconds, clean and efficient, like a professional killing practiced countless times.

6:33 PM, the first witness called 120.

"Intersection of Binhai Avenue and Keji South Road, car accident! A truck hit a car, the truck ran away! The car is smoking, there's someone inside!"

6:37 PM, traffic police and ambulance arrived at the same time.

The scene was shocking: the H8 was upside down, the body severely deformed, but surprisingly, the cockpit frame remained basically intact. Although the bulletproof glass was covered in cracks, it did not fall off. The vehicle did not catch fire—the battery pack was intact, and the emergency power-off system had been activated.

"Quick! Save him!" The firefighters began to cut the door.

Due to the reinforced body, cutting took twice as long as usual. At 6:45 PM, Lin Haoran was rescued. When he was carried onto the ambulance, he was already unconscious, but still had breathing and a heartbeat.

"Skull fracture, possible intracranial hemorrhage."

"Multiple rib fractures, possible lung contusion."

"Open fracture of the left arm."

"Blood pressure 80/50, heart rate 140, in shock."

On the ambulance, medical staff quickly assessed the injuries, established intravenous access, and contacted the hospital to prepare for surgery.

6:52 PM, the ambulance rushed into the emergency center of Shenzhen First Hospital. The directors of neurosurgery, thoracic surgery, orthopedics, and ICU were already waiting at the door—the hospital had received a call from city leaders: "Spare no expense to save him."

Lin Haoran was pushed directly into the operating room. The shadowless lamp turned on, and the beeping of the monitor became the only sound.

Outside the operating room, when Xinghuo Security Department Minister Li Jianfeng arrived, his face was ashen. Behind him were four security personnel, all retired from special forces.

"How is the situation?" Li Jianfeng asked the hospital president.

"Surgery is in progress, the situation... is not optimistic." The president lowered his voice, "Minister Li, this is not an ordinary car accident. The traffic police checked the surveillance; the truck hit him on purpose, ran away after hitting, and the license plate is fake."

Li Jianfeng nodded; he already knew. On the way here, he checked the surveillance of the park exit and along the way. That truck had been following behind Lin Haoran after he left the park, keeping a distance of two car lengths until that intersection.

Professional, calm, one-hit kill.

This was not an accident, it was murder.

The phone vibrated, an encrypted message:

"Sender: Ministry of State Security, Third Division"

"Lin Haoran, Xinghuo Chip core architect, has been included in the CIA 'Clearance List', priority A. Today's incident is confirmed as a CIA outsourced operation, executor: former US Army Special Forces member, currently employed by a 'Blackwater' affiliated company. Goal: Physically eliminate key talent, delay Xinghuo Chip R&D progress."

"Suggestion: Immediately increase the security level of all T0-level technical personnel. Next potential target: Li Wanqing, Wu Yi, Chen Wei."

Li Jianfeng gripped his phone, his knuckles turning white.

The CIA's 'Clearance List,' this was a method used against Soviet scientists during the Cold War, and now it was being used on Chinese technical personnel.

He walked to the window and dialed Su Chen's number.

The phone connected after one ring: "I'm on my way to the hospital. How is Haoran?"

"Surgery is in progress, survival probability... uncertain." Li Jianfeng's voice was hoarse, "Boss, the CIA has started. They are no longer just blocking or sanctioning, but directly killing."

The other end of the phone was silent for three seconds. Then Su Chen's voice came through, cold as iron:

"First, deploy security around the hospital, operating room, ICU, ward, three layers of protection. Second, all T0-level technical personnel, all enter safe houses tonight. Third, contact State Security, I want to know all CIA networks in Shenzhen."

"Already doing it," Li Jianfeng said, "But Boss, it's hard to guard against. They are in the dark, and we are in the light."

"Then force them into the light." Su Chen's voice carried a rare murderous intent, "If Haoran survives, I want those people to pay the price. If he... I want them to pay back tenfold."

The phone hung up.

Li Jianfeng put away his phone and looked through the glass window of the operating room, where he could see the busy figures inside. Under the shadowless lamp, the doctor was fighting with the Grim Reaper for someone's life.

1:07 AM, the operating room door opened.

The director of neurosurgery walked out, his surgical gown soaked with sweat. He took off his mask, his face tired but with a trace of relief:

"The surgery was successful. The skull fracture has been repaired, intracranial hematoma cleared, and brain pressure returned to normal. Six ribs were broken and have been fixed. The spleen was ruptured, half was removed, but the remaining half is enough. The left arm was fractured, and a steel plate was inserted."

He paused: "The most important thing is that there is no serious organic damage to the brain. CT scans show that the main functional areas are intact. But..."

"But what?" Li Jianfeng asked eagerly.

"But this level of impact is likely to have sequelae. Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is certain; memory, cognition, emotions... may all be affected. And," the director lowered his voice, "he may need a long time before he can pick up chip design work again."

Lin Haoran was pushed out of the operating room and transferred to the ICU. He was still in a coma, his face pale, covered in tubes.

Li Jianfeng stood outside the ICU, looking through the glass at the colleague who used to be high-spirited in the conference room and filled the whiteboard with architecture diagrams, now only able to rely on a ventilator to maintain life.

The phone vibrated again, this time a message from Su Chen:

"At any cost, hire the world's best neurosurgeon. Xinghuo cannot lose Haoran, and neither can Chinese semiconductors."

Outside the window, the night in Shenzhen was still very long.

And a war without smoke had already escalated to the most cruel dimension—it was no longer just a struggle for technology and market, but a slaughter of flesh and life.

Li Jianfeng lit a cigarette—he had quit smoking for a year, but he needed it tonight.

In the smoke, he thought of Lin Haoran's daughter, the five-year-old girl with pigtails. She wouldn't be able to wait for her dad to tell her a story tonight.

Perhaps she wouldn't be able to wait for a long time.