Old Wang was driving his smart car, live-streaming using the in-car camera. Today, his challenge was to complete an "untouched steering wheel" self-driving challenge during rush hour on the Third Ring Road.
"Hey everyone, today we're going to try something exciting!" Old Wang grinned at the camera, revealing his two signature gold teeth. "Full self-driving, I'm just here to chat with you guys, it's completely safe!"
"The atmosphere in the live stream today feels a bit off, is it just me?" Lin Fei forced a professional smile at her phone screen. She saw a few comments like "lagging" and "seems like AI" drift across the screen, and her heart tightened.
She is a mid-tier streamer under Wuyou Media. With her sweet appearance and slightly goofy live streaming style, she has accumulated a fairly stable fanbase. Recently, the company has been promoting "AI replication" technology, claiming that it can allow streamers' "clones" to broadcast 24/7, freeing up the real person's time and energy. Lin Fei was initially quite happy, feeling that she could finally get some good sleep, as the constant rotation was really exhausting.
Old Wang is the CEO of the "All-Sugar Cola Project," a middle-aged man with a bald head and a beer belly. Every morning, he would say to his reflection in the mirror, "Today, is another day to strive for the sweet cause of humanity."
What is the "All-Sugar Cola Project"? Simply put, it is to make every human being fall in love with all-sugar cola through an implantable device called the "Sweet Chip." Old Wang firmly believes this is the ultimate solution to social anxiety and the way to improve the happiness index. He preached this logic to his subordinates with a loud voice, like a missionary, while they nodded mechanically, their eyes devoid of any emotion.
Li Ming habitually took out his phone and scanned the QR code on his high-speed rail ticket. The ticket gate beeped and released him, and he dragged his suitcase into the waiting hall. The screen displayed train information, and he confirmed the train number and platform, and skillfully found his carriage.
Train conductor Li Ming sighed, looking at the empty train car. It was another G233 high-speed train with only him on board, traveling from Beijing to Shanghai. Ever since the implementation of the new seat reservation system, his daily work felt like acting to an empty room. There were very few passengers, but that was not the strangest part. The weirdest thing was that, no matter which train it was, there was always an "E seat" that was booked but never actually occupied.
Every morning, the first thing Lao Zhang did upon waking up was to put on his huge VR glasses. Not for entertainment, but for work. His workstation wasn't in an office, but in a virtual space composed of countless pixels. He was an employee of a "cloud office" company, responsible for "optimizing user experience." Specifically, this meant walking through an infinitely looping maze, collecting randomly appearing virtual coins.
"It's maze version 17.0 today," he muttered to the empty room, his eyes fixed on the pixelated wall in front of him. His character, a short, plump pixel man in a gray suit, looked a little comical. But Lao Zhang had gotten used to it, even finding it more real than his actual self.
Zhang Qiang stared at the empty tea room, feeling a void in his heart. The shelves, once filled with snacks and drinks, now only held cold glass and a few outdated notices. ByteDance had canceled afternoon tea. The news was like a silent earthquake, causing the entire office area to feel a bit shaky.
Zhang Qiang had been working at ByteDance for three years, progressing from a naive intern to a slightly jaded team leader. Afternoon tea was the moment he looked forward to most each day. That brief twenty minutes was a rare time for him and his colleagues to relax, and it was the fuel that allowed him to continue into the endless ocean of code.
Old Wang is a retired veteran whose biggest hobby these days is strolling around his neighborhood every day. He has a smartphone with a step-counting APP called "Flying Steps." This APP is said to accumulate points based on the number of steps taken, and the points can be redeemed for small gifts. Old Wang thinks it's great and walks even more enthusiastically every day.
There's also an old man named Mr. Li in the neighborhood who also likes using this APP. Every day they meet, they have to show off each other's steps for the day. Old Wang always wins by a small margin, and Mr. Li would jealously say, "Old Wang, you walk every day, where do you think you're going?" Old Wang would always smile without saying a word, secretly delighted in his heart.
Jean-Pierre, before his retirement, was a sonar operator on a submarine. Now, he runs a small café by the Seine. He enjoys observing the passersby, just like he used to listen to the various sounds from the deep sea while on the submarine. His daily routine, besides preparing coffee for his regular customers, is to open his old smartphone and check the daily records on his pedometer app.
This app, called "Healthy Life," was a gift from his son, who said it was to encourage him to exercise more and live longer. Jean-Pierre doesn't pay much attention to it. He walks the same route every day, from the café to the nearby park and back, monotonous like his submarine patrols before retirement. What really interests him are the colorful charts and data on the app's interface. They inexplicably make him feel at ease, as if he still possesses some quantifiable presence in the vast sea of humanity.
Hugo liked counting steps, not for health, but to complete his weekly "activity" goals. He was a French naval soldier stationed on a "Triomphant" class nuclear submarine. The interior of the submarine was cramped. Except for his shifts, he spent most of his time lying in bed. The only times he moved was to the cafeteria or the bathroom. Therefore, his daily steps usually hovered around 100.
Of course, this number was too embarrassing. Hugo felt that even underwater, he needed to maintain a good "active" image. He downloaded a step-counting app specifically designed for "cheating." This app could simulate realistic movement data based on preset routes and step frequencies. As a result, his phone would display thousands of steps of "glorious achievements" every day.