276: Chapter 276 What I Saw and Heard Upon Returning from Sword Training

The air in the Furnace Area was thick and stifling, with heat waves rolling along the ground, distorting the shadows of people.

The alloy floor scorched the soles of one's feet, and a humming sound came intermittently from the three half-dead furnaces, like an old ox wheezing.

The apprentices crouched before the control consoles, heads bowed, fingers hovering over the buttons, afraid to move lest a single wrong press cause a furnace explosion.

Chen Tiezhu sat on that polished metal stool, a large patch of his work clothes soaked through and sticking to his back.

He still gripped his calibration hammer, his knuckles white, but his eyes were vacant, staring blankly at the furnace on the right where the temperature had been kept extremely low.

The furnace fire flickered, reflecting on his face, jumping up and down as if it might go out at any moment.

No one spoke. Even the wind had stopped.

Just then, footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor.

They were not heavy, but steady, each step carrying the lingering echoes of wind and thunder from his Sword Intent, striking the ground and causing wisps of rune smoke to swirl and dissipate.

Chen Xiaodao pulled back the hood of his silver-patterned cloak, the sword tassel on his shoulder swaying gently.

He had just returned from practicing his sword, sweat still clinging to his temples, his breathing steady, his gaze clear.

As he passed through the corridor, he frowned—something was wrong with this place; it was too quiet, not like an Artifact Refining Workshop, but more like a mourning hall.

He spotted Chen Tiezhu at a glance.

"Uncle?" He walked over, his voice not loud but like a stone thrown into stagnant water, "Why are you just sitting here? Your face looks like you've swallowed iron slag."

Chen Tiezhu's eyelids twitched, and he slowly turned his head.

Seeing it was Chen Xiaodao, he didn't smile or scold, but simply sighed, his voice raspy like sandpaper grinding iron:

"The furnace isn't listening to me anymore."

"Stuck again?" Chen Xiaodao stood still and gave his shoulder a pat, his movements crisp and efficient, "It's an old problem, why rush? Isn't the Patriarch here?"

This pat seemed to bring Chen Tiezhu's frozen muscles and bones back to life.

He looked up at the main console not far away, where Chen Wuwang was standing, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye glowing faintly blue, his fingertips sliding across the panel with a speed too fast to follow.

"He's the one in charge of the people," Chen Tiezhu shook his head, his voice dropping.

"But we're the ones doing the work. In three days, production has dropped by forty percent.

The front lines are waiting for new equipment, the children are waiting for new bracers, and what's the result? A pile of scrap metal stuck in the process, unable to come out."

As he spoke, he wiped his face with his hand, his palm brushing against his stubble, making a rough, grating sound.

"The people I lead have never done such frustrating work. Tell me… are we getting old? Can we not keep up with this new way of doing things?"

Chen Xiaodao didn't answer that.

He looked at the hammer in Chen Tiezhu's hand and suddenly smiled: "If you're old, then there are few people in the Eastern Wasteland who can forge.

Besides, when has our Chen family ever relied on fighting alone to survive?

With the Patriarch here, with you here, and with me—three heads put together, are we really afraid we can't figure out one furnace?"

Just as he finished speaking, footsteps approached from behind.

Light, steady, and rhythmic.

Chen Wuwang walked over.

His silver hair was tied back, the light of his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye extinguished, leaving only the three scars left by the insect race on his right cheek, shimmering in the firelight.

He walked between the two of them, not looking at the data screen or the furnace, but speaking directly: "The efficiency problem, the crux isn't the people."

Chen Tiezhu looked up abruptly. Chen Xiaodao narrowed his eyes.

"It's the process."

Chen Wuwang raised a finger and pointed at the main console: "You are still using the old methods of forging runes to run a mass production line.

The processes are connected, but the power supply is intermittent.

It's like asking someone to change a horse's horseshoe while galloping; how can there not be accidents?"

Chen Tiezhu's lips moved, wanting to retort, but the words died in his throat.

He remembered checking the equipment three times after the celebration banquet last night; the circuits, runes, and flow plates were all fine, yet it just wouldn't stabilize.

He had assumed it was the apprentices being inexperienced, but listening now… it really didn't seem to be a human problem.

"Then what do you suggest?" he asked, his voice lower, "Tear it down and start over? But time waits for no one."

"No need to tear it down," Chen Wuwang shook his head, "We'll change how we operate."

As he spoke, he reached out and patted the edge of the main console, the metal emitting a crisp "clang."

"In the past, it was a workshop; we polished things one by one, and it didn't matter if we were slow.

Now, we need to produce three thousand components a day.

Relying on old masters to adjust the heat by feel? Relying on apprentices to calibrate manually? That won't work anymore."

Chen Xiaodao's eyes lit up: "You mean… we need to set rules? Let the machines follow the process themselves?"

"Yes," Chen Wuwang nodded.

"It's not about relying on people to watch, it's about relying on the System to control.

Every link—temperature, Spiritual Qi injection volume, rune activation duration—must be quantified and have closed-loop feedback.

If anyone makes a mistake, the System will immediately sound an alarm, rather than waiting until the finished product is ruined before going back to find the cause."

Chen Tiezhu was stunned: "You are trying to turn Artifact Refining into… an assembly line?"

"It already is," Chen Wuwang said calmly.

"We haven't relied on a single hammer to conquer the world for a long time.

Who built the earth dragon mech? Who tested the Anti-Blood Type-I armor? Which of them wasn't built by stacking processes?

Now, we are simply moving this set of things onto the furnaces."

Chen Xiaodao clapped his hands: "Understood! It's just like practicing sword.

The thousandth swing and the ten-thousandth swing must be exactly the same.

The machines must be the same; they can't be working today and not working tomorrow."

He turned to look at Chen Tiezhu: "Uncle, what you need isn't more manpower, but a more stable process. Otherwise, no matter how many apprentices you have, they'll just be adding to the chaos."

Chen Tiezhu didn't make a sound.

He looked down at the calibration hammer in his hand; this hammer had accompanied him for twenty years, having smashed countless scraps and tapped out countless masterpieces.

But now, it seemed… a bit heavy.

"But how do we set this process?" he finally spoke, "Who will write it? Who will manage it? Who takes the blame if something goes wrong?"

"I will write it," Chen Wuwang said, "You will review it. Xiao Dao, you are responsible for the trial run.

When the first batch of components comes out, you take them to actual combat; if there are problems, report back on the spot, and we will revise them overnight."

Chen Tiezhu looked up, staring straight at him: "What you are trying to move is the root of the entire Artifact Refining Workshop."

"I know," Chen Wuwang nodded, "But if the roots don't move, the tree won't grow tall.

We are not doing this just to repair a few pieces of equipment, but to ensure that every clansman can wear new armor, pick up new swords, and live a little longer."

He paused, his voice dropping lower: "I don't want to see anyone die under the claws of a Yao Beast because their equipment couldn't keep up."

The air was silent for a moment.

The furnace fire was still burning, the humming sound remained, but the atmosphere had changed.

It was no longer the suffocating depression of death, but a kind of… tension, like something about to move.

Chen Xiaodao flexed his wrists, the sword tassel swaying slightly: "Then what are we waiting for? Start now?"

"No rush," Chen Wuwang shook his head, "First, we need to clarify the loopholes in the existing process. You two, come with me."

He turned and walked toward the main console without stopping.

Chen Tiezhu hesitated for a moment, but eventually stood up, tucked the calibration hammer into his waist, and followed.

Chen Xiaodao walked at the back, flicking his cloak, his lips curling up: "Hey, this feeling… why does it feel a bit like the day the 'earth dragon' started construction?"

The three of them gathered in front of the main console, and the data stream on the screen began to scroll.

Chen Wuwang pointed at the energy curve chart: "Start by checking the power supply fluctuations.

Look at this band—auxiliary resonance, it jitters every eleven minutes.

This isn't an equipment problem; it's external interference."

"Who dares to steal our energy?" Chen Xiaodao frowned.

"That's not important right now," Chen Wuwang said, "What's important is that we must first tighten our own fence.

Once the process is set and the System is online, no one will be able to reach out so easily."

Chen Tiezhu stared at the screen and suddenly asked: "To set this up… how many people will you need?"

"Not many," Chen Wuwang said indifferently, "The key is to have the right people."

After he finished speaking, his gaze swept over the two: "If you trust me, stand on this side. If you don't, I won't stop you."

Chen Xiaodao directly slapped his hand on the console: "I've long been your man, brother."

Chen Tiezhu was silent for a few seconds, then finally spoke: "These old bones of mine can still swing a hammer for a few more years.

If you want to change, I'll change with you.

But there is one condition—don't lose the soul of a craftsman."

"I won't," Chen Wuwang looked at him, his gaze serious, "I just want to let this soul go further."

The three of them stopped talking, all staring at the screen.

Data streamed by, like a flowing galaxy.

The firelight from the furnace reflected on their faces, revealing three different expressions—one weary but wavering, one eager to try, and one calm as an abyss.

But their shadows on the wall had already merged into one.