Chapter 5 — Destiny PPT version

Co Thua Nghien said: “Then you can write the next PPT.” I was stunned. "What PPT?" He glanced at the big screen. "'I'm One Step Away From Being Unemployed'." I was placed in a small conference room. The room sign reads: Blue War Room. Sounds very enthusiastic. In reality, there were only two whiteboards, six chairs, and a half-broken coffee maker inside. There is a piece of paper on the coffee maker. Don't hit it. Even if you beat it, you won't get any coffee. I sat down for three minutes when Phuong Hao walked in. He threw a stack of documents on the table. “Data you need.” Papers scattered. Like a small avalanche. I immediately stood up to pick it up. "Thank you, General Manager Phuong." "No need to thank me." He leaned against the door. "I just want to see how you turn the car over." My hand stopped. Phuong Hao looked at me. "On Nhien, do you know what type of person the office hates the most?" I said in a low voice: "People who are late?" He smiled coldly. "He's someone who talks about complicated issues like he's very smart." I didn't speak up. He said: "Just now in the meeting room, you were very imposing. General Director Co was willing to listen to you, and the finances were also persuaded by you." "But the user is not PPT." "The programmer is not your senior." "The cooperation partner is not a charity organization." "Three days later, if you can't offer anything, I guarantee, you will lose more face than showing the wrong screen." He finished speaking and turned to leave. At the door, I stopped again. "Ah yes." I raised my head. Phuong Hao said: "If you really feel you can do it, then don't cry." The door closes. I sat back down on the chair. Documents piled up on the table. The phone vibrated once. It was a text message sent by Manh Vi. "Don't be intimidated by General Director Phuong, he's just hot-tempered." After two seconds, there was another message. "But what he said wasn't completely unreasonable." I stared at the screen. Very good. Consolation is very layered. I open the document. The first version is user retention rate. The second version is the functional click. The third version is the paid conversion. The numbers are dense and dense. Looking at it made my eyes sting. At two o'clock in the afternoon, Co Thua Nghien pushed the door open. "How much have you seen?" I was so scared that I almost threw the pen out. "One, half." "Conclusion?" "Worse than I thought." He pulled a chair and sat down. "Say." I turned over a table. "It's not that users don't need management tools." "It's that they don't believe you can help them." Co Thua Nghien did not interrupt. I continued. "Tinh Lam's current reminder completion rate is only twenty-one percent." "But the reminder installation rate is not low." "That proves that users will write things down." "It's just that they won't complete them later." "So the key is not to let them write more." "It's to help them complete them." Co Thua Nghien asked: "How to help?" I stuck three sticky notes on the whiteboard. Pay fees. Curriculum vitae. Birthday. “First do the rescue after the reminder fails.” “The user delays once, the reminder is normal.” “Delays twice, the rescue button appears.” “Don't write the words on the button to buy services.” Co Thua Nghien asked: “Write what?” I took the pen and wrote down: "Do you want to solve it now?" He looked at the words. Don't say good, don't say bad. My palms started to sweat again. "General Manager Co?" "Yes." "Is that too wordy?" "No." He picked up the pen and wrote another line below. "Don't let this turn into tomorrow's trouble." I looked at the whiteboard. This sentence is better than mine. More like human language. Also more heart-wrenching. Co Thua Nghien put down her pen. "Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock, bring the development, operations, and sales teams into the meeting." I was stunned. "Am I in charge?" "You are the temporary person in charge." "But I have never had a meeting." "I have now." "I will stutter." "Then stutter." "They don't listen."

What about me?" Co Thua Nghien stood up. "Whoever doesn't listen, you write it down." "And then what?" He walked to the door, turned around. "I made that person listen." At ten o'clock the next day. I stood in front of the whiteboard in the War Room. In front sat seven people. Two programmers. Two operations staff. One person from the sales side. One designer. There was also Phuong Hao. Phuong Hao was not there to attend the meeting. He came to examine the exam. I held an oil brush. The pen cap had to be pulled three times to open. The designer looked at me with gentle eyes. "Don't be nervous." I nodded. "Okay." The male programmer asked: "What do we need to do?" I opened my mouth. Voice stuck in throat. Phuong Hao leaned back in his chair. "The person in charge of On, everyone is waiting." This word "person in charge of On" can do great damage. Even more bitter than several layers of yin and yang irony. My fingers tightened on the oil brush. “We… we need to do a small gray test.” The male programmer asked: “Where is the request document?” “I wrote it last night.” I sent the document to the group. He opened it and took a look. “Is that all?” My heart cooled in half. “Is it too little?” “No.” He raised his head. “It's so clear.” I was stunned.