Las Vegas at dawn is cold. The glamorous lights of the streets seen through the hotel window are still sparkling, but the somewhat cold wind blowing below quietly flows, calming the hot energy of the city. I slowly drew the curtains and gazed out the window. The loneliness of the city hidden behind the brilliant neon lights is conveyed intact. The travel bag by the bed is already closed. What remains for me is only to savor this city until the last moment. CES revisited after 15 years -- as a young journalist, I have now become middle-aged. In those days, this was a land of opportunity for me. The ambition to make my name known while navigating exhibition halls full of new technology burned hotly. But this time was different. Not excitement but heavy reality brought me here. "What meaning did this CES hold for me?" I asked myself on the bus heading to Las Vegas airport. The answer is not easy. Drone technology, AI, metaverse solutions -- the technologies I encountered were impressive. But what surprised me more was the atmosphere. CES, once a venue of innovation and dreams, now carries a different gravity: survival. Companies are not simply showing off new technology -- they are putting everything on the line. The festival of innovation has transformed into a venue of survival. The reporter who first visited CES in the excitement of a young journalist sees something different at 40+ -- not the technology showcases but the desperation beneath them; companies know that if they do not demonstrate AI integration credibly at CES, investors and partners will question their relevance; the pressure is existential in a way that 15-year-ago CES was not.