But Thome doesn’t know this. He’s proudly in charge of the hub, where the newest ideas created across all areas—findings, developments, all that stuff—converge. Thome sits like a sun at the center of the firmament of the new world order. His mission is to enter all the developments, ideas, schemes that arrive here at the hub into a sort of global brain, which is run by people like him from every continent, well, nearly every …

Anyway—

Thome is very well paid. He interacts with the absolute geniuses of the field, organizes meetings of all departments, company-wide exchange and all that stuff that not a single asshole cares about. Because here, ladies and gentlemen, there’s competition happening. A competition of speed, the stakes of which are billions and the positions of power in the 4.0 world. The essential developments will most definitely not be fed to Thome and his machines. A sector full of fuckwits, funded by venture capital billionaires, believes in intercommunication. What a sweet idea. But Thome doesn’t know this. Thome, who hasn’t accomplished anything more in his life than to program two apps designed to hurt people. Well, hurt. Hang on there. One of them wanted to die and the others had fears, and I helped them both. Thinks Thome.