Chapter Forty: Defiance Meets Action

Upon learning that William White had returned, Old Joe naturally came by to scrounge for perks—White Software was simply too extravagant, going so far as to employ a French chef in the office.

“Damn, is your microcomputer database ready?” Joe’s face was filled with disbelief.

“It’s still unstable; we need another month,” William White replied with a wink and a smile.

“Damn it, I should’ve acquired your company back then.”

“Haha, Joe, you know I’m not short of money.”

“Damn rich guy.”

William White could only smile wryly. Why did earning his own money make him some kind of tycoon?

Joe started tinkering with the software. The release of a database would undoubtedly expand the application range of microcomputers once again.

“Joe, any suggestions? Give me some criticism—I don’t mind.”

“Damn, you sure are cocky. Do Oracle’s engineers even have this level of skill?” Joe’s expression was conflicted.

“Don’t, don’t go poaching people again. Some of those old guys are a bit unhinged, best not to provoke that lunatic.”

Clearly, Joe had no intention of fighting to the bitter end. He understood all too well that this was a matter of conception; compiling software was never the real difficulty.

With White Software about to launch a new product, Joe couldn’t sit still. He needed to discuss this with the other execs—this was no trivial matter.

“What? Are you certain?” Markkula’s expression was equally troubled; a database was nothing like a spreadsheet.

“It can’t match a minicomputer, but it depends on the use case. Financial systems are out of the question, but for small and medium enterprises, it’s more than enough. And this is just version 1.0.” Though Joe didn’t finish his thought, Markkula understood.

Microcomputer databases weren’t widely used; more likely, it was a statement of intent. William White’s motives were clear: to establish his standing in the industry.

As for Apple, they too needed to shed the label of “game console company.”

The industry giants outwardly dismissed microcomputers but were all preparing to join the fray, merely waiting for the right moment.

For a company on the scale of Big Blue, developing a new product wasn’t easy—it would take at least two years, even if everything went smoothly.

Those two years were Apple’s window of opportunity. If they failed to establish an advantage, the company would stagnate; if they succeeded, all would be well.

CPUs had already made great strides. Both Intel and Motorola had released new chips, clearly designed for microcomputers and boasting impressive performance.

The Apple II couldn’t compete with minicomputers—there was a significant gap, as the price reflected. But the next generation would be much closer, and their Lisa project was quite promising.

If those bigwigs looked down on microcomputers, then he’d give them a taste of what was coming.

No matter how formidable minicomputers were, their fate was sealed; if they had any real ability, they’d compete with mainframes or supercomputers.

Once microcomputers had database support, the survival space for minicomputers would inevitably shrink. He refused to believe those bastards could stay as calm as before.

There were no secrets in Silicon Valley. White Microcomputer Database was already in testing, and signs pointed to a public beta within two months at most.

Unsurprisingly, Oracle was the first to grow anxious. The old man had been having a hard time lately. He wanted to go after William White, but White claimed not to know the company or its founder, and called himself a newcomer, feigning ignorance.

No one believed him, but no one bothered to contradict him either. Larry Ellison himself had no way to respond. He couldn’t very well say, “I’m so famous, how could you not know me?”

William White’s cunning was precisely in this: he delighted in rubbing salt into open wounds.

When his rivals accused microcomputers of being inadequate, he readily agreed, but expressed confidence in the future.

If they said his software was lacking, he would admit it without hesitation, saying that if not for the rush of customers, he’d have moved on to developing the next generation already.

The truth was, hardware simply couldn’t keep up with their pace. William White stated that the company’s focus was on 32-bit systems, and their current product was merely a compromise.

“We have the software, but the hardware doesn’t have enough horsepower. It’s like hitching a pony to a wagon too big for it—how can you expect a pony to pull an airplane? I simply can’t do it!”

Infuriating people seemed to be his specialty—his bravado was unparalleled.

This new company had so many products, while others who’d been around for years were still a mess. And yet, they had the nerve to criticize him? They should work harder—he hadn’t even started to push yet.

Speaking in opposites was nothing new, but doing it so thoroughly was quite a feat. Those who understood could read between the lines, while the onlookers would surely take it at face value.

They’d think, “William White is so humble, so low-key.” As for Oracle—well, they just didn’t know their place.

The same words were understood completely differently inside and outside the industry. This kind of oblique mockery was far more brilliant than anything in the textbooks.

Everyone knew he was mocking them—the entire IT world saw it—yet who dared to retort?

Absolutely no one; it would only make them look foolish.

Faced with this sharp tongue, the IT world chose silence. There was simply no point in making a stand. He was far more formidable than the infamous Valley madmen—better not to let his insults get under your skin.

Silence was the consensus, but the problem still had to be solved. Version 1.0 might not be a game-changer, but the next release could be. Everyone saw the progress in CPUs; the gap was undeniably narrowing.

High-end CPUs were expensive, but quantities were low—manufacturers didn’t like them, as high prices didn’t mean high profits.

The semiconductor industry was capital-intensive—the more you invest, the greater the output. If there’s no volume, nothing is profitable.

For Americans, controlling production costs was a joke—any attempt to control them only made them rise. Only the Asians seemed adept at this; any country over there outperformed the Americans.

No one really knew how good this new database would be, but as long as it wasn’t total garbage, it would attract plenty of attention.

White Software was no longer an unknown upstart—industry attention was inevitable.

Version 1.0 might not amount to much, but the real threat was the trend it represented; the path had been set, and everyone had to choose their own direction.

For Larry Ellison, this was hardly good news. He had just published a treatise on the futility of microcomputers, only to be slapped in the face by White’s announcement. His anger needed no elaboration.

He could keep ranting, but White would just keep ignoring him, which would be far too humiliating—he didn’t have the guts to try again.

In the end, it all came down to products. Trading on seniority only made you a laughingstock.

White Office Suite was the hottest thing around; nothing else mattered. Claiming microcomputers were useless was pointless—now they had databases, too.

And it wasn’t just White Software. All sorts of microcomputer-friendly software were emerging—a true era of flourishing diversity. Anyone who kept making ignorant remarks would soon become synonymous with a backward company.