142: Chapter 142: Manufacturing encountered a problem; let's work together to solve it.

The welding torch's sparks were still flashing, and the lights on the tracks were on. The five production lines lay underground like five iron Dragons, their skeletons already built, with pipelines exposed.

Chen Wuwang stood at the edge of the high platform, his hands resting on the railing, feeling the metal vibrate. That was the mechs moving; that was people working.

But the third line stopped. No one shouted, and there was no alarm; it just suddenly went quiet.

The resonance furnace, which had been humming, stopped spinning, and the blue line on the detection screen jumped violently, turning red.

An apprentice took two steps back, the recording tablet in his hand dropping to the ground with a "clatter."

"It's happening again," he whispered.

Chen Tiezhu took off his face shield; his face was covered in a mixture of dust and sweat. He stared at the fingernail-sized metal ring on the console without blinking.

This was the "Resonance Guide Ring," a key component of the No. 3 mech, responsible for transmitting the energy from the Psionic Core to the main circuit.

The previous two times it melted down, they thought it was due to impure Materials; the third time they switched to new titanium crystals, but it still exploded.

He squatted down and picked up the fragments with tweezers. The edges were blackened, and there were tiny cracks on the inner ring, like a spider web.

"It's not a problem with the Materials," his voice was low, but everyone heard him. "It's that the precision isn't high enough."

An old artisan nearby leaned in to look: "How much is it off by?"

"Less than half a micron," Chen Tiezhu gritted his teeth. "But our current equipment can only manage 0.8 microns. Any finer, and the cutter head itself starts to shake."

No one spoke. This was like carving jade with a hoe; one could dig holes, but not carve details.

Chen Wuwang walked down, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye scanning the fragments. A blue light flashed, and data appeared before his eyes: 97.3% energy leakage, 0.04 seconds slower in transmission, enough to cause the System to burn out.

He didn't speak, lifting his hand to swipe in the air. A 3D blueprint appeared; it was the structural diagram of the "Foundation Establishment-Exclusive · Battle Armor Type I."

He zoomed in on the third line and tapped the location of the guide ring.

"Here," he said. "A magic interface was left during the design."

Everyone was stunned.

"What did you say?" Chen Tiezhu looked up.

"We can add natural magic runes here." Chen Wuwang pointed to a very fine groove on the blueprint.

"The 'Rebirth Rune' that Bai Ling mentioned, it's activated by life fluctuations. If we don't force precision with technology, but instead use magic to stabilize the frequency... it might work."

Someone frowned: "Magic? Is that stuff reliable? Can it withstand the energy impact?"

"Have you tried it?" Chen Wuwang glanced at him. "You can't even chant a spell, yet you say it won't work?"

The person shut his mouth. Chen Tiezhu was silent for a moment, wiping his face: "But who knows how to carve Elven runes?"

"I'll call her." Chen Wuwang turned and left.

In less than ten minutes, Bai Ling arrived. She was wearing a light green dress, her hair smelled of dew, and her eyes were bright.

She didn't go straight into the workshop; she stood at the entrance for a while, looking up at the hot air vented from the ventilation ducts, and took a gentle breath.

"Your machines are too noisy," she said. "The metal is in pain."

No one laughed, because they knew what she said was true—during high-intensity processing, the interior of the metal indeed emitted sounds that humans couldn't hear.

She walked in, went to the console, didn't wear gloves, and reached out to touch the broken ring. As soon as her fingertips touched it, she frowned.

"It's gasping," she said softly. "Like a dying heart."

"What do you mean?" Chen Tiezhu asked.

"Your guide ring, the energy is unstable, and the frequency is jumping around." She looked up. "It's like a person running; their heartbeat speeds up and slows down, and sooner or later something will go wrong. But if there's a metronome, one step per beat, it can be stabilized."

"You mean... use magic as a metronome?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Moon Pattern engravings can set the frequency. As long as it's tuned to resonate with the metal, it can stabilize the energy."

Chen Tiezhu was stunned. He had spent his whole life doing Artifact Refining; he had heard of Formation and runes, but he had never thought magic could be used as a component.

"Can we try it?" Chen Wuwang asked.

Bai Ling looked at him and smiled: "Yes. But you have to remove your auxiliary chips to make room."

"Remove them," Chen Wuwang said immediately. "Stop other work on the No. 3 line; do this first."

The order was passed down, and the workers immediately set to work. Removing casings, cutting power, unloading modules—they moved quickly.

Chen Tiezhu personally removed the fingernail-sized chip and threw it into the recycling bin. "I welded this," he muttered. "Now I'm taking it apart myself."

"Out with the old, in with the new," Chen Wuwang patted his shoulder.

Bai Ling stood in front of the console, her hands hovering in the air, palms facing down. She closed her eyes and hummed a short tune, like wind blowing through leaves.

A pale cyan line appeared in the air, twisting and turning like a growing vine.

"This is...?" someone asked in a low voice.

"The initial form of the Moon Pattern," she said. "Once it sinks in, it can guide the energy."

Chen Tiezhu picked up the nano-welding arm, his hand trembling slightly. This weld wasn't just connecting a circuit; it was about "planting" magic into the machine.

If it exploded, it wouldn't just break one component; the entire control System might be ruined.

"Uncle," Chen Wuwang stood behind him. "Keep your hand steady."

"No kidding," he cursed under his breath, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

The welding torch ignited, and a blue-white flame sprayed out. He held his breath, manipulating the welding arm to slowly press the cyan line into the metal groove.

The temperature couldn't exceed 3,200 degrees, otherwise the runes would shatter; it couldn't be too low either, or it wouldn't fuse. One second, two seconds...

"Sizzle—" A soft sound, and the cyan line disappeared into the metal. It was done.

Everyone was holding their breath. Chen Wuwang immediately connected the test power supply. Current slowly injected, and on the detection screen, the blue line rose steadily, with no fluctuations and no spikes.

"It's stable," the person from the control group said, their voice trembling. "The error... is zero."

The workshop was quiet for a few seconds. Then, someone exhaled, then a second, then a third. Some sat down, some hugged their companions.

Chen Tiezhu took off his face shield, hands bracing the table, his shoulders trembling slightly.

"I'll be damned... I actually did it," he said in a low voice.

Bai Ling smiled, reached out to touch the guide ring, and said softly: "It can breathe now."

Chen Wuwang didn't smile, but he raised his hand and patted both of their shoulders heavily. "It's not technology that won, nor magic that won," he said. "It's us who won."

As his voice fell, cheers finally erupted in the workshop. But this wasn't over.

"Prepare for mass production," Chen Wuwang immediately ordered. "Write the new process into the workflow; all five lines must be modified."

"But the molds need to be remade," Li Xing ran over. "The current press molds can't achieve this precision."

"Then build new ones," Chen Wuwang looked at Chen Tiezhu. "Can you lead the production?"

Chen Tiezhu took a deep breath, wiped his face, and put his face shield back on. "I can," he said. "Give me three hours."

"Good," Chen Wuwang nodded. "I'll go watch the data; you lead the team."

Bai Ling didn't leave. She stood by the detection console, holding a recording tablet, and began to draw a new rune arrangement.

"I can make the Moon Pattern into a standard module," she said. "We can just install it directly in the future without having to carve it every time."

"Then stay," Chen Wuwang said. "Watch over the next three units yourself."

She nodded, her eyes shining.

The welding torch ignited again, sparks flying everywhere. The third line restarted, and the new guide ring was sent into the assembly position. This time, there was no red light, no explosion, and the blue line flowed steadily.

Chen Tiezhu stood in front of the console, his hand no longer trembling. He looked at the small metal ring as if looking at his own child.

In the distance, the first main beam was connected, and the sound of metal fusing "sizzled," like a whisper.

The wind blew in from the ventilation duct, carrying the smell of metal and fire. The initial green-patterned armor plate lay quietly on the table, its faint light still flashing. The lights of the five tracks lit up one after another.