I'm an AI prodigy, a P8 at a major tech company. I had just received an award for an outstanding project at the quarterly meeting.
The next second, the AI Human Resources System announced in front of everyone: "Lin Mo, lowest performance rating. Effective immediately, you are being optimized."
Security guards dragged me out, and my employee badge was deactivated on the spot. President Wang kept his head down, scrolling on his phone. He didn't even look at me.
It was 42 degrees Celsius. I stood outside the company, unable to get a ride or walk anywhere, my shoe soles sticking to the asphalt. My mortgage was 15,000 a month, my daughter's hospital bill was 8,000, and I had only 2,000 left in my account. I didn't dare go home, afraid my wife would ask, "Why are you back so early today?"
Almost without thinking, I pushed open the door of the convenience store downstairs.
The owner handed me a bottle of ice water and said, "Got optimized again? Help me build an AI system. I'll pay you 3,000 during the trial period." I smiled bitterly and said nothing.
He added, "Once you pass the trial period, your monthly salary will be 30,000."
I jerked my head up.
Twenty convenience stores on the verge of closing, and an old man nearly bankrupt, yet he said I was worth that much. He didn't ask about my past or look at my qualifications. He just said, "I believe in you."
That night, my childhood friend sent me a bid document by "accident": a 1-billion government emergency support project.
I stared at the screen and replied with four words: "I'm not deleting it."
He called me crazy.
I said, "How else do you expect me to survive?"
