The Goddess Shines on America

The door opened and a six-foot-tall man entered the room.

"How many times have I said, we have to hire the best programmers, you know? It has to be the best!"

The man's voice was as firm as steel, his short tan hair was neatly combed, he was about forty years younger, and he was wearing a suit that matched his hair color. Behind him, a bodyguard, apparently second in command, echoed his complaints in a low voice.

"Sir, compared to outstanding ability, I still need to remind you that loyalty is the first priority. After all, once this kind of plan is leaked, we will not only face ordinary failure."

The bodyguard's proposal really caught the master's attention. With a gloomy expression, he glanced at the empty desk and the silence around him, then immediately picked up a floppy disk beside the desk and said, "But he is getting more and more serious now. The more disobedient you are, Heinrich, you have to know, in case that bastard does something random in the algorithm, it will not be so easy for us to tell!"

"We still need time." The bodyguard stood quietly at the door, not disturbing the owner's search for documents in the bookcase: "This algorithm can only be used to the greatest extent when the data source is sufficient. If we are too ambitious, Maybe when it does come in handy, the performance drops instead."

"Oh, damn it!" It's a pity that this admonition did not seem to be listened to by the man. After searching through the bookcase, he said annoyedly: "I remember that the original manuscript was placed here, could it be somewhere else? Room?"

The bodyguard at the door flickered for a moment, and he scanned the layout of the office, the closed windows, the consistent orientation of the computer chairs, and even the musty smell in the air caused by no one living there for a long time.

"Your memory has indeed declined recently," he said calmly, "so instead of focusing on the progress of the plan, I strongly recommend that you go to the hospital to take care of your body. In addition, Mr. Anderson and Ms. Oles are already quietly in the bedroom. I have been waiting for you for a long time, and it is not a gentleman's behavior to make a lady wait."

"Well, that's right, Annie, Annie, Annie is still in the bedroom." It seemed to be a magical name. As soon as the bodyguard mentioned it, the man no longer struggled with the location of the "original manuscript", but just guessed. Good his floppy disk, and strode out of the room.

"Besides, Heinrich, open the window of this room. I haven't come back for half a year. Damn it, is there going to be mites?"

"Good sir."

The man walked out of the room immediately, while the bodyguard walked towards the window with steady steps. The moonlight shone into the room, and it could be seen that this man was not good-looking, not to mention short, and even a little bald, but his slightly sunken big eyes were particularly piercing. He opened the window, and immediately a gust of cold air poured into the house. Abandoning the room that had not been used for half a year in the deep mountain, finally ushered in fresh air again.

Suddenly, there was a creaking sound, and the bodyguard immediately looked at the writing desk on the side.

Nothing unusual.

The dusty desktop, the new computer bought a year ago, and the armrests of the leather seats are also covered with dust.

The bodyguard kept the window open, walked out of the room with steady steps, and closed the door.

a moment later...

A ripple of water and light surged near the writing table, as if the masterpiece of the magical brush Ma Liang suddenly burst out of the canvas, and an abrupt existence appeared on the empty leather chair out of thin air.

"Tut tsk tsk~"

Alice sat comfortably on the leather chair, her slender, fair legs curled up provocatively, and the red cheongsam was lifted just right. In front of her, IBM's desktop computer had been working for an untold amount of time. The dusty fan tried hard to dissipate the heat from the Intel CPU. It hummed for a while at the noise level. How long no one entered the room is debatable, but this computer It really hasn't been cleaned for a long time.

"Great discovery, Mira."

Knowing that the owner of the mansion, that is, the organizer of this year's party, has gone out, Alice patted the earphone in her left ear and said, "You heard it too, a room that the landlord claimed has not been in use for half a year." The study room is actually installed with my latest Win3.0 system. Harry, when did our research institute popularize ternary super-smart computers to the market? Not only can it run by itself, but it can also be downloaded remotely. There is no download at all. version of the operating system, and install it yourself?"

"Oh, Neo..."

"Boss, I just want to know where you hid?"

In the van on the hillside opposite the mansion, without mentioning what Harry wanted to say, Mira, the female soldier who had been watching through the night market binoculars, couldn't help it anymore: "Please tell me where you want to hide next time, please? And don't Can you pull up the most critical curtain? In case you are discovered by those two men..."

"It's okay, it's nothing more than a sex scene in a bungalow, calm down dear."

Speaking incomprehensible words, Alice has already started the next step by herself.

Lake Ciobo in Switzerland, this is the address she obtained after some effort. Alice would be a fool if she couldn't figure out what the man's "original manuscript" was based on his conversation with the bodyguard.

But I really want to still be a mystery. The ghost knows why Vipple-Pushkin of Drakken Company holds this manuscript, and that man is obviously not "Arnim Zola" who wrote this algorithm. Although she can be sure that Vipple is a spy, but who is the other party working for and what is his purpose? Unless she turns on the ultimate cheating mode to stage a hypnotic drama, or just one or two coffee talks, there is not much content at all.

But it is not a problem to find this house from the manuscript that has been completely transcribed by myself. After all, as Brody complained to himself, the unintelligible German in the previous text is the most annoying thing in his life up. But being proficient in sixteen languages ​​was an achievement Alice had achieved as early as ten years old.

"Harry, Harry, this is Hermione."

After reading out the useless code that had been negotiated with Harry Punes, Alice said: "Check the transmission rate of the wireless network, and I will send all the babies in this computer over immediately."

"Hermione, Hermione, I'm Harry." Harry's amused and excited feeling can be heard from the voice: "Everything is ready, Boss, you are really awesome, using such a small piece of hardware to realize wireless network transmission, Mine... hey Mira, don't hit me."

An external wireless network card with a universal driver. Although the theme of Exeter's laboratory is a ternary computer, if you say that even this little guy can't make it, it's really blinding Alice to sit in town every weekend. . Of course, of course, products born in the laboratory must face a sufficient period of social adaptation before they finally go to the market.

"Well, then start the transmission now, just wait."

The progress bar appeared, and Alice began to rest on her chin.

In fact, when the intruder was wandering around the house, she had already skimmed through most of the information, and the content was nothing more than an analysis of the algorithm. Although it is very troublesome, it should be thought of. The original code written by Anim Zola is the core content. The program code is so simple and difficult that it is quite difficult for Alice to read, let alone ordinary programmers? No matter what grand plan the owner of this mansion wants to carry out, as a user, he must have a fool's interface.

"Yes, what the hell is that guy named Anderson doing?"

Taking advantage of the slow transmission of the inferior wireless network card, Alice also began to ponder. After all, she just heard a conversation with a lot of information at zero distance.

According to the analysis, it can be known that Mr. Anderson hired a programmer named Anim Zola to write a very powerful algorithm and wanted to use it to realize some secret plan. But now, that Mr. Zola seems a little unwilling to cooperate with him.

At the same time, although the whole house is not sure, Anderson himself said that he hadn't been in this room for half a year, and this room where the algorithmic paper materials are stored is loaded with the latest Win3.0 system...

Far away.

"Well, that algorithm can obviously be used to deduce the development prospects of the data source, at least it can be used to speculate in stocks as a stock god... Yes, stock speculation through various background information and fundamental analysis methods... I have already done it once?"

Thinking of this suddenly made Alice dumbfounded. It is indeed very tempting. Warren Buffett, the stock god who has no hooks at all, can have a net worth of 50 to 60 billion. If anyone uses this algorithm to speculate in stocks, he can indeed easily achieve his goal of ruling the world. Is this the plan of that Mr. Anderson? The so-called time has not come because the follow-up impact caused by the "87 stock market crash" has not yet ended?

It is useless to think too much, focusing on the current goal is the key point. Alice is not interested in the algorithm itself, but for the programmer who can write this algorithm, her curiosity is really bursting to the extreme. It's a pity that even this computer does not store the contact information of that Mr. Zola, but her actions tonight are not in vain if she can get the annotation content that is several times that of the original manuscript.

"Hermione, Hermione, this is Harry, the package has arrived!"

"Very well, Harry, may the glory of Goddess Hermione shine on you forever, and wait for my return!"

Unplug the network card, turn off the power, it's time to leave. But Alice looked at the wide open window at the moment, but she didn't want to jump out and escape directly.

"Is there a dance on the first floor?"

I don't know what song is playing below, Alice thought about it, and landed into the dark room on the second floor along the hooked pistol still hanging outside the window. With light steps on black high heels, she gently opened the door.

In the brightly lit corridor on the second floor, you can just hear the beautiful melody below. The girl in red walked out of the door calmly, preparing to walk to the first floor.

Until a Middle Eastern security guard who didn't know what to do stopped her in Arabic.

"Miss!?"