75: Chapter 75 If the technology is real, our country will take off.

The video buffering bar finished.

On the screen, that Blue Fatty was standing at the top of the marble slide.

Wang Hao's finger hovered over the spacebar, his knuckles turning white from overexertion.

Play.

Doraemon took the first step.

No wobbling, no shift in the center of gravity, not even the slightest unnecessary tremor from that seemingly incredibly heavy big head.

It was as if it had completely ignored Newton's coffin lid, walking steadily down that smooth, slippery path that even a child would have to slide down, all while maintaining an anti-human posture tilted forty degrees backward.

"Click."

Wang Hao pressed pause.

He pressed his face against the monitor, his nose tip almost smearing a layer of oil onto the screen.

Frame-by-frame playback.

First frame, the sole of the foot touches the slope.

Second frame, the shell at the ankle contracts inward, clearly indicating the mechanical parts inside were at work.

Third frame, the center of gravity of the entire upper body completed a dynamic adjustment within milliseconds.

"Holy crap..."

Wang Hao felt as if his scalp had been peeled back, a jolt of electricity shooting straight from his tailbone to his crown.

Is this actually special effects?

Whose special effects could make the torque feedback of a servo motor so compliant with the laws of physics?

Whose special effects could render the slight deformation of the soles caused by changes in grip?

He clicked on the next video.

It was the clip of the old grandfather doing Tai Chi.

"The left shoulder is slightly hunched up by three centimeters; long-term posture like this will compress the cervical nerves..."

Doraemon's voice was crisp and melodious.

Wang Hao, however, listened in a cold sweat.

Real-time motion capture.

Human skeletal dynamic analysis.

Medical pathology database retrieval.

These three steps were completed in less than two seconds, outputting a voice response.

"Crazy... This world is crazy."

Wang Hao grabbed his laptop, forgetting even to unplug the power cord, and tore the charging cable right out.

He rushed out of the dormitory like a monkey with its butt on fire.

...

Chinese Academy of Sciences, Robot Research Institute, third-floor office.

Professor Sun was wearing his reading glasses, reviewing the annual report on "Bipedal Robot Gait Balance Algorithms" in his hand.

Looking at the data on it that barely managed to keep the fall probability at 30%, his brows twisted into a "chuan" ( river) shape.

Difficult.

Too difficult.

Just then.

"Bang!"

The office door was violently kicked open.

Professor Sun's hand shook in fright, and the goji berry tea in his thermos almost spilled onto his crotch.

He looked up and saw Wang Hao standing at the door, gasping for air with a bird's nest of messy hair, clutching his computer tightly to his chest, looking like a robber who had just held up a bank.

"Wang Hao!"

Professor Sun slammed his thermos onto the desk, his mustache crooked with anger: "What are you doing? Don't you know how to knock? Have your manners been eaten by dogs?"

"And! Didn't I tell you to go fix your thesis? What are you running here for again? If this is about that crappy video from Guanghui Technology, get out of here right now!"

The old professor was truly furious.

Yesterday, this kid had annoyed him with a garbage promotional video, and after getting scolded, he still dared to come back today?

Students these days don't think about doing solid research, instead getting led by the nose by online marketing accounts all day—it's simply the tragedy of academia!

"Professor! Stop yelling! Look at this first!"

Wang Hao couldn't care about respecting his teacher anymore.

He rushed to the desk in a few steps, flipped aside the documents in front of Professor Sun, and slammed the laptop onto the table with a "clatter."

"You—"

Professor Sun was about to explode.

Wang Hao had already pressed the play button.

"Just take one look! If this is fake, I'll drop out immediately! I'll never touch a Robot again in my life!"

This curse was too severe.

The scolding on the tip of Professor Sun's tongue was forcibly swallowed back.

He snorted coldly, adjusted his glasses, and looked at the screen with disdain.

On the screen was the scene of Doraemon walking down the marble slide.

At first, Professor Sun's expression was disdainful, even carrying a bit of mockery.

It was the mindset of watching a monkey show.

One second.

Two seconds.

When Doraemon's round foot slid down the slope in an incredibly strange yet perfectly harmonious posture.

Professor Sun's hand, which was holding his glasses, froze.

"This..."

He leaned forward, his entire face almost shoved into the screen.

"Replay! Give me a replay!"

Professor Sun's voice had changed.

It was no longer the furious rage from before, but carried a hint of trembling, a hint of incredulous horror.

Wang Hao immediately dragged the progress bar.

This time, Professor Sun watched more carefully than anyone.

He stared fixedly at Doraemon's ankle joints, at the shift in its center of gravity with every step it took, at the counter-intuitive steadiness of its upper body.

As a leading figure in the domestic Robot field, he knew all too well what these few short steps meant.

It meant that Guanghui Technology had solved the "unstructured terrain dynamic balance" problem that he had been studying for thirty years!

And it had been solved in a nearly perfect, brutally aesthetic way!

"This is impossible... This isn't scientific..."

Professor Sun muttered to himself, took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and put them back on.

"This is special effects, right? This must be Hollywood-level special effects, right?"

He was trying to find reasons to convince himself.

Because if this were real, his life's work could basically be thrown into the shredder.

"Professor, look at this."

Wang Hao didn't argue, but clicked on the Tai Chi video.

When he heard Doraemon precisely point out the old man's cervical spine problem.

Professor Sun collapsed completely into his chair.

If gait balance could be forcefully explained away as a "top-tier suit actor."

Then this real-time medical diagnosis function completely shattered all remaining luck.

Could a suit actor spot a stranger's cervical spondylosis?

Could a suit actor instantly retrieve Li Qingzhao's poetry?

More importantly, it's hard to find actors who are naturally short at one meter twenty.

"This..."

Professor Sun's lips trembled as he pointed at the screen, unable to say a complete sentence for a long time.

If this is real.

Then where is this a Robot?

This is clearly a Terminator in a cartoon costume!

"This thing... which company made it?"

Professor Sun grabbed Wang Hao's wrist suddenly, with frightening strength, his fingernails digging into Wang Hao's flesh.

"Guanghui Technology."

Wang Hao grimaced in pain, but quickly answered: "It's that company that makes mobile phones; the president's husband is named Lu Li."

"Lu Li..."

Professor Sun muttered the name, his expression shifting from shock to fanaticism, and finally into a deep sense of fear.

A private enterprise.

One that previously made mobile phones.

Actually built a monster that could thrash Boston Dynamics and crush the global Robot industry without a sound?

And...

They actually took this thing to a park to play with kids?!

A waste of resources!

This is a complete waste of resources!

If this technology is real, it could completely rewrite the landscape of modern warfare, and even change the production structure of human society!

"Quick! My phone!"

Professor Sun stood up abruptly, and because he rose too quickly, the old rattan chair he had sat on for over a decade was knocked over.

He didn't bother to steady the chair, rummaging through the pile of documents on the table in a panic to find his phone.

"Professor, who are you calling?"

Wang Hao was startled.

He had never seen his mentor in such a state of disarray.

Professor Sun found his phone, his fingers trembling as he unlocked the screen, and pulled up the number saved as [Ministry of Science and Technology - Director Zhang].

He took a deep breath, trying to make his voice sound less hysterical, but the excitement was impossible to suppress.

"I'm not calling anyone... I'm reporting! No, I'm escalating this!"

Professor Sun raised his head, his cloudy old eyes erupting with unprecedented intensity.

"Wang Hao, listen to me."

"If this video is real, then Guanghui Technology isn't just releasing a product."

"They are grafting a branch from the future onto our nation's technological tree!"

"Something like this... must absolutely not just be strolling around in a park!"

Beep—beep—

The call connected.

Professor Sun held the phone, his back straight, his tone as serious as if he were reporting nuclear launch codes:

"Old Zhang, it's me."

"Stop sleeping! Something big has happened!"

"You need to send people immediately... no, you need to take people to Mingzhu City yourself."

"Yes, that's right, that Guanghui Technology."

"I'm not crazy! I'm perfectly sane! I'm telling you, if the Robot they have in their hands is real..."

Professor Sun glanced at the Blue Fatty on the screen who was currently being cute, swallowed his saliva, and said in a hoarse voice:

"Then our country's Robot technology doesn't need to catch up anymore."

"We... have just taken off."