Sequoia Returns (4,000 Words)

The next day, the 48-hour data began to be updated.

"My God!" An engineer in charge of monitoring the backend suddenly exclaimed in astonishment.

Harry shoved his chair aside and rushed over, practically lying face down on the screen. The next second, he sprang up as if struck by lightning, turned around, and yelled at Frank and Tom, his voice trembling. "K-Factor! K-Factor is out!"

Frank frowned. "Speak like a human, Harry."

"Virus transmission coefficient! How many new users does each existing user bring in on average!" Harry was so excited he was almost incoherent. He pointed to a number that had just popped up on the screen, his fingers trembling. "1.8! Holy crap, our K-Factor is 1.8! That means every 10 users brought in 18 new users in just two days! This isn't addition, it's fission! It's exponential explosion!"

The command center was initially deathly silent, then erupted into a thunderous roar of cheers.

Frank Marshall, a man accustomed to the grand occasions of Apple's product launches, also suddenly stood up.

He strode to the screen, staring intently at the number "1.8" that represented exponential growth, and then glanced at the number of real-time online users next to it, which had already surpassed 20,000 and was still rising.

His breathing became heavy, and the calm and composed look on his face was replaced by an expression that was a mixture of shock and ecstasy.

"Tom," Frank turned his head, his voice a little hoarse, "We did it!"

Tom Kalinske grinned, revealing a smug smile.

Frank didn't say anything more; he turned and strode out of the conference room.

Harry and the engineers exchanged glances, assuming their new boss was going to take a break.

A few minutes later, Frank returned.

Instead of holding any documents, he was carrying an ice bucket with a bottle of fine vintage champagne prominently displayed inside.

"Bang!"

He popped the champagne cork with an incredibly stylish motion, sending white foam shooting straight to the ceiling.

"I was originally planning to open this bottle when the company's market value surpasses 100 million," Frank said, pouring drinks for everyone while looking at Tom and Harry with a new, almost fanatical gaze. "Now it seems I might have to stock up on a few more cases."

Just then, Tom's assistant pushed open the door, followed by a group of reporters who had been waiting for a long time.

The flashbulbs went off instantly, perfectly capturing the moment—the new CEO popping champagne to celebrate, with a backdrop of rapidly growing data curves and a group of young engineers cheering for making history.

A reporter, quick as a flash, shoved a microphone to Frank's lips. "Mr. Marshall! Congratulations! What's next for ICQ? Will you be introducing paid features?"

Frank accepted a glass of champagne, lightly clinked glasses with Tom, then turned to the camera with a confident smile befitting Wall Street elite.

"Paid services? No, we're not in a hurry to extract money from users' pockets. The few value-added services on 1CQ are already enough to cover a significant portion of operating costs. Although we haven't received a single remittance yet, we're confident." He took a sip of his drink and said slowly, "Furthermore, ICQ is just the beginning, connecting internet users. ICQ's basic services will always be free. As for paid services, please stay tuned; we will launch more services in the future."

ICQ's report had barely occupied half a page in the Wall Street Journal when Sequoia Capital's phone rang with Tom.

Kalinske's office.

The voice on the other end of the phone was urgent, as if his house was on fire, a stark contrast to his previous reserved investor demeanor. "Tom! My old friend! I need an explanation. Why didn't you mention such a big move to me at all?"

Tom Kalinske propped his feet up on his desk, leisurely swiveled his chair, and, facing the California sunshine outside the window, deliberately drew out his voice. "Oh? What's the matter? I just did one small thing recently: released a chat application called ICQ. You've heard about it too?"

"Have you heard? Tom, the whole of Silicon Valley is talking about your 1.8 K-Factor! My God, you've come up with another piece of software that's shaking up Silicon Valley."

"We call this 'social fission,'" Tom cleared his throat and said in a missionary-like tone, "A completely new way of connecting people. As for investment— Frank is building a team; we're not in a hurry."

After hanging up the phone, Tom couldn't hide the smile on his face.

He immediately summarized the essence of this call, along with the explosive growth data after ICQ's launch, into his regular briefing to the Tokyo headquarters.

He kept in mind Nakayama Takuya's instructions, and the entire report was filled with the exaggeration and passion of American business, with US dollar signs used more frequently than periods.

At the end of the report, he wrote in bold, "Sequoia Capital can't wait any longer. Our chief investment officer suggests that now is the perfect time to release our first round of funding and let the hungry wolves of Wall Street fight tooth and nail for the first ticket to our 'passport'."

October, Sega Tokyo Headquarters, regular board meeting.

The atmosphere in the meeting room was somewhat awkward.

A group of directors, with an average age of over fifty, are looking at each other in front of a report from the United States branch.

The user growth curve in the report is as steep as a mountain peak, but what they care more about is how this stuff actually turns into money.

"Using user numbers as a valuation reference?" Director Hoshino of the Asset Management Department, pushed up his glasses, his eyes filled with doubt behind the lenses.

"Executive Director Nakayama, isn't this a bit too hasty?" Another director Sugiura, chimed in. "We can't exactly tell investors that we have a million users who don't pay, so the company is worth a hundred million US dollar, can we?"

A low murmur rippled through the conference room.

Nakayama Takuya stood up, but instead of heading to the whiteboard, he looked around at everyone present. "Distinguished directors," he said, "We used to sell cassette tapes. One tape, one copy, one price—it's easy to understand."

He paused, then picked up a teacup from the table.

"Now, let's think of ICQ as a telephone. A telephone has no value whatsoever."

He picked up another teacup and placed it next to the first one.

"Two telephones that can communicate with each other create a connection, and that has some value."

He didn't pick up the cup again, but instead spread his arms wide, gesturing a huge area. "What about a million phone calls?"

How many connections can they create? Not a million, but hundreds of millions! Every interaction and every message exchange between users adds value to the network itself. We're not valuing a telephone line; we're valuing the entire telephone network!

"As for the value of a single user—" Takuya smiled, "Director Sugiura's analogy was very apt. A single user sees a post on a BBS, that's value. But if that user then posts a comment on the BBS, attracting a hundred people to watch and discuss, that attention and discussion from those hundred people is the 'network value' generated by those billions of connections. Our ' Silicon Valley Online Passport ' is the gateway to this network!"

This easy-to-understand explanation brought a look of sudden realization to the previously confused board members.

Although they still didn't quite understand the mathematical logic, they did understand the words "billions" and "entrance".

More importantly, they trusted Nakayama Takuya.

This young man's accurate prediction of Japan's economic bubble has multiplied the wealth of many of them several times over. The facts prove that it doesn't matter if you don't understand, just follow his lead and place your bets.

"Let those shrewd mathematicians and actuaries on Wall Street figure out the specific valuation model," Nakayama Takuya said casually as he sat back down. "We only have one bid; raise the price and get a good deal."

"Agree."

I second that.

The atmosphere in the meeting room instantly reversed, and no one raised any further objections.

Ultimately, the board of directors unanimously decided to appoint Director Sugiura to immediately travel to the United States to represent the Tokyo headquarters and oversee the entire process of Silicon Valley Online's first round of financing.

After the meeting, Sugiura deliberately stayed behind and walked over to Nakayama Takuya, becoming much more respectful.

"Special Secretary Nakayama, I hope you can offer me some guidance on my trip to the United States. Regarding that—"

Regarding the theory of "network value," I hope you can provide me with a detailed report so I can take it with me and study it.

Nakayama Takuya was packing his things when he heard this. He looked up and a playful smile appeared on his face.

"Director Sugiura, there's no need for that."

He patted Sugiura on the shoulder and lowered his voice.

"You don't need to bring any reports. Just bring your best suit and practice your golf swing."

"Huh?" Sugiura was stunned.

Nakayama Takuya blinked and chuckled, "Once you get to Silicon Valley, all you have to do is sit in a conference room, elegantly sipping coffee, and listen to how those investors rave about my theories in a way that's even more eloquent than I can describe them. Then, watch them slam their checkbooks on the table for an investment seat. Remember this: the United States is the most advanced country in the world when it comes to computers and the internet, and it's been the United States that led the development. If you call computers and the internet the 'Third Industrial Revolution,' do you think Wall Street will cheer for you? Do you think United States politicians will agree with this viewpoint? 'The beacon of humanity, America, leading the Third Industrial Revolution'—which United States doesn't like that slogan? Besides, I genuinely believe that computers and the internet can truly be called the 'Third Industrial Revolution.' Sega should definitely jump on this bandwagon. However, the relevant technologies and theories can't be explained to the board members in just a few words, but I can say this: if the computer and internet systems are run well, we can easily recreate another Sega."

Sugiura was stunned when he heard that "it's easy to recreate a Sega".

This was the first time Nakayama Takuya had made such a bold claim since joining Sega. Even the previous visions of Sega's acquisition of Sunrise and Wanda had not impressed him as much as this statement.

However, seeing that there was no hint of joking on Nakayama Takuya's face, he immediately understood the importance of this trip.

He asked cautiously, "So, what am I going to do on this trip to United States?"

Nakayama Takuya lowered his voice and said to him, "You mainly need to keep a close eye on Silicon Valley Online. We can't let this company, which is under Sega of America Headquarters, slip out of our control. We can delegate operational and personnel rights, since the internet's dissemination capabilities will become increasingly important in the future. The US government certainly won't allow a company outside the United States to dominate; that's an inherent reality, and we don't need to dwell on it. But we must hold onto the money tightly, whether it's equity or dividends; we need to be cautious."

Nakayama Takuya relaxed and continued, "But you don't need to be too nervous. As long as we maintain control over Sega of America Headquarters and Silicon Valley Online's finances and equity, and give executives a certain amount of stock options, we can be invincible. After all, when it comes to contracts, we're no less capable than the United States."

Sugiura nodded after hearing this.

After seeing Director Sugiura off, Takuya, quickly finished dealing with the official documents in his office and returned to his role as a stay-at-home dad.

Even though I'm home, I still have a lot of work on my mind.

"Takuya, concentrate on changing your diaper." Eri leaned back on the sofa, watching her husband clumsily change their son's diaper, and couldn't help but laugh.

Takuya paused, looking down at the little one in his arms.

Kazuki clearly didn't care how Takuya was daydreaming; with a kick of her leg, she almost sent the clean diaper flying.

"This is my most important project right now, so of course I have to take it seriously," Takuya replied earnestly, frantically holding down his son's legs and finally managing to put on the diaper.

Soon, it will be "Palace Ceremony Day".

According to tradition, boys are to visit a shrine to pray for divine protection 32 days after birth.

Nakayama Miyuki had already chosen a date and made a reservation at one of Tokyo's most prestigious shrines.

On the day of the palace visit, the weather was fine.

The Nakayama family mansion was bustling with activity early in the morning, and the Nakagawa family's motorcade arrived on time.

Nakayama Atsuo changed into a black monzuki haori, which made him look even more dignified.

But as soon as he entered, his gaze was fixed on the naked man in Eri's arms, and the lines on his otherwise imposing face softened.

Not to be outdone, Nakagawa Jun quickly stepped forward and took an exquisite gift box from his wife, Takako: "This is for Kazuki, a baby ceremonial robe made of the finest silk. I specially commissioned a master craftsman in Kyoto to make it."

Nakayama Miyuki smiled as she accepted the gift, opened it, and saw that the exquisite garment embroidered with eagles and pine trees was indeed impeccably crafted.

She glanced at her husband warily. Nakayama Hayao coughed lightly and said casually, "Thank you for your thoughtfulness. However, our Nakayama family has also prepared a birth garment for our eldest grandson, the one Takuya wore when he was born."

In the air, it seemed as if invisible sparks of electricity flashed.

Finally, with the mediation of the two mothers, it was decided that Cheng would wear the clothes delivered to the Nakagawa family and return to wear the clothes delivered to the Nakayama family, which made everyone happy.

The atmosphere inside the shrine was solemn and respectful.

Nakayama Atsuo took the naked body from Eri's hands without hesitation.

Although he had carried his grandson Maruji once a few years ago, his posture while holding his grandson was still somewhat stiff, but fortunately he remained exceptionally steady as he walked step by step toward the temple.

That figure seemed to carry the weight of the entire family's legacy.

The priest began reciting prayers for blessings, the ancient and melodious tones echoing throughout the temple.

Then, the priest, using a brush dipped in ink, solemnly wrote "Nakayama Kazuki" on a thick register of clan names.

Four words.

From that moment on, this little life was officially protected by the local deities.

Takuya stood beside Eri, looking at his father's back and the name written by the priest, a strange feeling welling up inside him.

He was the one who chose the name, but only now, as it is recorded in this ancient book, does it seem to truly gain weight.