41: The heartbeat of nuclear energy

Jiang Ran found this sleep a bit "uncomfortable."

It wasn't because the environment was harsh; on the contrary, it was because it was too quiet.

The irritating roar of the diesel engine was gone.

The constant vibration of the hull caused by the piston movement was also gone.

Even that lingering, damp fishy smell and the scent of engine oil in the air had completely vanished.

Jiang Ran snapped his eyes open, his body instinctively tensing as he bolted upright from the wide memory foam mattress.

What met his eyes was no longer that cramped, pipe-filled temporary rest cabin from before.

Instead, it was a standalone bedroom with a postmodern, minimalist style.

The walls were wrapped in a milky-white, sound-absorbing polymer material, emitting a soft, diffuse light.

The central air conditioning vents were silently delivering dry air at a constant 24 degrees Celsius and 45% humidity.

Jiang Ran subconciously touched the bedsheets beneath him.

Dry and soft.

There was none of that sticky feeling from drifting on the water for too long—the kind that never feels dry no matter how much you sun it. It even carried the scent of cotton after being exposed to the sun.

"Phew..."

He let out a long breath of turbid air and rubbed his aching temples.

This illusion of being back in a top-tier executive suite before the apocalypse made him dazed for a moment.

But the sensation coming from beneath his feet quickly cleared his mind—

It was a thick, slightly warm anti-static carpet.

And beneath that carpet, deep within the layers of armor plating.

An extremely faint, high-frequency hum was being transmitted through the ship's framework.

That wasn't the crude friction of machinery; that was the sound of energy surging through superconducting coils.

That was the brand-new heartbeat of this steel monster.

Jiang Ran rolled out of bed and walked barefoot to the one-way, bulletproof floor-to-ceiling window.

Outside was still the pitch-black stone forest and torrential rain, with howling winds whipping giant waves against the ship's side.

But under the protection of the Klein Field and multi-layered soundproof armor, those violent sounds of nature were isolated into a silent film in the background.

On this morning, months after the outbreak of the apocalypse.

For the first time, Jiang Ran wasn't woken by the cold, nor by the noise.

He pressed his palm against the cool glass, looking at the blurred curtain of rain outside, a satisfied arc curling at the corner of his mouth.

Lv4 was more than just an upgrade in firepower.

It was the return of dignity as a "human."

Jiang Ran passed through the automatically sliding airtight door and walked straight into the spacious bridge command center.

The changes here were earth-shattering.

The control console, which originally had only a few crude instrument panels.

Had turned into a full circle of wraparound holographic touch interfaces, with floating light particles drifting slightly in the air.

In the very center, a deep black alloy command chair stood quietly, with a dark gold ship's crest printed on the backrest.

He sat down.

The bio-sensing probes in the backrest activated instantly.

A faint current swept across his spine, connecting his nerve signals with the entire warship.

"zero."

Jiang Ran's fingers lightly tapped the cold armrest as he watched the waterfall of ghostly blue data light up before him: "Report power core status."

"Yes, Commander."

zero's voice no longer came from the speakers, but echoed directly in his mind through bone conduction, as clear as if it were right in his ear:

"Cold Fusion Reactor is running smoothly.

Current output power: 0.1% (Standby mode).

core temperature: Stable.

Cooling cycle: Normal."

Along with the report, a slowly pulsating blue light sphere appeared in the center of the holographic screen—

It was a real-time projection of the power heart located deep in the bottom hold.

Inside those layers of Zirconium Alloy and lead plating.

That Bio-Crystal Core was releasing a massive amount of energy, enough to power a city, in a rhythmic pattern like breathing.

Jiang Ran's gaze moved to the energy remaining estimate in the bottom right corner.

It was no longer an anxiety-inducing fuel tank percentage, nor was there a heart-stopping kilometer countdown.

There was only a line of cold, yet ecstatic numbers:

[Estimated remaining fuel rod half-life: 213 years.]

Two hundred years.

Looking at that number, Jiang Ran couldn't help but let out a low chuckle from deep in his throat.

Once, for the sake of a few dozen liters of diesel, he had to calculate every kilometer of his voyage, fight for his life against zombies, and risk it all against marauders.

And now?

Even if this ship were to keep running until he died of old age, this heart would never stop beating.

"Infinite energy..."

Jiang Ran gripped the armrest, the ghostly blue light reflected in his eyes.

This heavy feeling of having his fate completely in his own hands was more intoxicating to him than any weapon.

"The data looks good, but I'd rather see the actual results."

Jiang Ran leaned forward.

Looking at the pulsating virtual heart before him, a trace of mischievous excitement, like a child with a new toy, flashed in his eyes.

In the past, when sailing, he did so to save power.

He didn't even dare to keep the radar on 24/7, and searchlights were only used for a few flashes when engaging the enemy.

He had had enough of those stingy days.

This wasn't just a test; it was a form of vengeful catharsis.

"zero."

Jiang Ran waved his hand grandly, his voice carrying an unprecedented arrogance: "Perform a full-ship full-load stress test.

Turn on everything on this ship that has a plug."

"All searchlights, internal and external lighting systems, Full-Spectrum Radar, Phased Array Jammers... and that newly installed Molecular-level Seawater Desalination Plant, run them all at full power!"

"Warning: Commander, current freshwater reserves are full. Forcing the desalination plant to run will result in..."

"Drain it."

Jiang Ran interrupted zero's logical judgment, a reckless smile playing on his lips:

"Pump it up, purify it, and then pour it back into the river.

Use pure water to flush the drainage pipes.

I just want to see if this 'heart' can actually reach full capacity!"

"...Command confirmed."

The next second.

In the depths of the dead silent stone forest, it was as if an artificial sun had risen. "Hum—!!!"

At the top of the black iron ghost's bridge, along the sides, and at the stern, dozens of military-grade xenon searchlights flashed simultaneously.

Blinding beams of light instantly tore through the pitch-black curtain of rain.

Illuminating the stone forest within a two-kilometer radius so clearly that even the moss in the rock crevices could be seen.

The phased radar rotated at full speed, radiating high-energy microwaves into the surroundings as if they cost nothing, instantly burning through all the ambient radio clutter.

And in the bottom hold, the seawater desalination units let out a cheerful roar.

Crystal-clear pure water was produced like a waterfall, and then extravagantly discharged back into the lake by high-pressure water pumps.

Even with such squandering.

That line of power output values only jumped from "0.1%" to "0.3%."

It didn't even count as a "warm-up" for the nuclear reactor.

Jiang Ran stood in the radiant bridge, looking at the pale world of torrential rain outside.

This feeling of being able to command energy at will and trample on resources recklessly made every pore of his body cheer.

This was nuclear power.

This was the greatest luxury and freedom in this energy-depleted apocalypse.

"Zzt—"

The bridge's airtight door slid open again, breaking the carnival constructed of light.

Su Qingyu walked in wearing a white lab coat. As soon as she looked up, she squinted her eyes, dazzled by the intense light that rivaled the shadowless lamps of an operating table.

"If you're trying to attract every moth within a fifty-kilometer radius.

Or if you want to broadcast our position to the satellite wreckage, then you've succeeded brilliantly."

She raised a hand to shield her forehead and walked quickly to the adjutant's seat, her fingers flying across the control panel.

"Click."

The blinding floodlight arrays were forcibly cut off, leaving only the necessary navigation indicator lights and ambient lighting.

The light inside the bridge became soft again, and that feverish aura of a nouveau riche cooled down with it.

Su Qingyu slapped a tablet computer onto the command console in front of Jiang Ran with a "thud."

Her face was serious, clearly dissatisfied with this "showy" behavior:

"Also, although I really don't want to dampen your spirits, I must tell you—that shot we just test-fired has caused trouble."

"Trouble?"

Jiang Ran raised an eyebrow, his gaze falling on the constantly jumping sonar imaging map on the tablet.

The originally clear underwater topographic map had now turned into a murky mess of clutter.

Countless red warning icons representing "geological instability" were flashing frantically around the stone peak that had just been blasted to pieces.

"That's the kinetic energy release from the moment the Electromagnetic Cannon projectile hit."

Su Qingyu pointed at the screen and explained, her tone carrying a scientist's precision:

"A solid Tungsten Projectile traveling at seven times the speed of sound releases energy equivalent to a magnitude 3.2 shallow earthquake the moment it contacts rock.

The shockwave didn't just shatter the target; it also spread through the water and rock layers.

Look here—"

She enlarged the image: "The underground bedrock of this stone forest was originally a fragile karst limestone structure.

The resonance generated by that shot has already caused multiple instances of foundation loosening and sediment liquefaction.

In simple terms, if you fire another shot.

These stone pillars above us, dozens of meters high, might all collapse like dominoes and bury this ship alive."

Jiang Ran looked at the precarious red lines on the screen. He didn't panic; instead, he nodded thoughtfully:

"The power is indeed a bit greater than expected.

It seems the main gun must be used with caution in narrow terrain."

"That's not even the most troublesome part."

Su Qingyu sighed and pulled up another spectrum analysis chart: "The most troublesome part is the sound.

Although the Electromagnetic Cannon has no gunpowder explosion sound.

The sonic boom generated by the projectile breaking the sound barrier travels far further than you imagine on a rainy night.

According to zero's passive monitoring, the echo of that loud bang has already reached eighty kilometers away."

She looked up and stared directly into Jiang Ran's eyes:

"In these dead silent waters, it's like ringing a bronze bell in a graveyard at midnight.

No matter what's hiding nearby—

Warlords, remnants of the Ark, or those monsters under the water.

Now, they all know there's a 'big guy' here."

"We're exposed."

Su Qingyu gave her final summary.

Jiang Ran was silent for two seconds.

Then, he picked up the hot coffee beside him and took a sip, showing no sign of annoyance on his face.

On the contrary, the ghostly blue light in his eyes seemed to grow brighter. "It's fine if we're exposed."

Jiang Ran put down the cup, his voice calm: "Anyway, this stone forest is too cramped, and there's no room to maneuver."

"Since the bell has been rung..."

He stood up, his gaze casting out the window toward the water surface that was starting to bubble with murky gas due to the geological loosening: "Then let the guests eat our dust as they watch our departing back."

"zero, retract the anchor chains."

Jiang Ran turned and walked toward the command seat, sitting down in that black alloy chair that represented absolute power. His gaze passed through the holographic sea chart before him and looked toward the distant East.

"Since this place has turned into a muddy swamp, there's no need to stay any longer."

"But Commander, the follow-up material organization is not yet complete, and the hull structure self-adaptation still needs three hours..."

"Do it as we go."

Jiang Ran interrupted zero's suggestion.

His slender fingers traced a straight eastward route on the virtual control panel until it vanished into the depths of the unknown darkness:

"This ship is meant for conquering, not for display."

"Target: Lower reaches of the Yangtze River."

"Set sail."

"Hum—clatter!"

As the command was issued, the heavy alloy anchor chains were quickly pulled back into the anchor locker by the windlass.

The massive hull of the black iron ghost shuddered slightly on the water.

This time, there was no noisy churning of propellers in the water, nor any black smoke from a diesel engine.

Located below the waterline at the stern, two giant Water-jet Thrusters, driven by nuclear energy, instantly erupted with two streams of high-pressure water.

The massive reactionary force pushed this five-hundred-ton steel monster.

Like a weightless black feather, it slid gracefully and eerily out of the stone forest it had occupied for so long.

The bow cut through the waves.

That layer of Bio-active Metal covering the entire ship automatically adjusted its surface microstructure, reducing fluid resistance to the absolute limit.

It was like a true ghost, silently slicing through the curtain of torrential rain.

Su Qingyu stood by the porthole, looking back at the receding stone forest shrouded in thunderstorms and murky water.

That place had buried countless marauders and witnessed the miracle of this ship's evolution from a ragged iron shell into a nuclear-powered warship.

That was their starter village.

And now, as Jiang Ran said, that "tutorial phase" of being cautious for the sake of survival was completely over.

Ahead lay a broader, more dangerous abyssal route that also buried more "Kindling."

"Let's go."

Jiang Ran's voice rang out in the silent bridge, carrying a decisiveness that severed ties with the past:

"Don't look back."

The black iron ghost accelerated.

Its wake carved a lingering white trail on the pitch-black river surface, and in the blink of an eye, it vanished into the end of the vast rainy night.