442: Chapter 442 Research and Development Continues, Results Gradually Emerge, Boosting Confidence

The lights in the assembly area shone in rows, casting cold white light onto the metal floor and reflecting the shadows of moving figures.

Chen Wuwang watched the mech land steadily, feeling a slight sense of relief. However, thinking of the many debugging tasks that remained, he turned and returned to the main console. He rested his fingers on the edge, tapping them rhythmically—not fast, but each tap felt like a nail being driven into an iron plate.

He had just finished reviewing the test logs submitted by Chen Qiaoshou. As he scanned the data line by line, his eyes grew heavy, as if weighed down by a stone.

After reading the last line, he raised his hand and tapped the air. A light screen popped up, and after he entered a command, the platform-wide broadcast System hummed to life.

"Attention, all R&D team members—" His voice was not loud, but it had strong penetrating power. "Switch to high-sensitivity mode. The seventh-generation mech joint debugging begins now."

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire platform was like a beehive that had been poked, buzzing with activity.

Someone jumped up and slammed the table: "It's finally here!"

Others kept their heads down, furiously typing code while muttering: "The flow channel pressure threshold needs to be reset, or it won't hold up against the new signal stream."

Further away, a welding torch hissed, spitting out blue flames as sparks splattered against the protective shield with a crackling sound.

Chen Wuwang didn't move, staring at the jumping parameters on the main control screen.

The receiver signal was stable, and the navigation core response was normal, but he knew this was just the beginning.

Individual modules might work, but the whole machine might not necessarily fly.

"Hardware team!" he shouted. "Recalibrate the flow channel pressure and rewrite the protocol for Interface No. 3. Don't try to get by with the old logic."

A young man wearing goggles poked his head out: "Clan Head, we're working on it! It's just that the software side hasn't synchronized yet, and we're worried it won't connect."

"Then push them." Chen Wuwang turned, his gaze sweeping across. "Tell the software team that if they don't finish it today, they don't sleep tomorrow."

Before he could finish, the communication array emitted a rapid alert tone. He answered it; it was the furnace workshop.

"Clan Head, there's a slight tremor in the furnace core pressure, and the stabilizer array can't keep up." Chen Tiezhu's voice was hoarse and filled with irritation. "The old rune ring reacts too slowly, so I dismantled it and replaced it with a programmable chip. I'm adjusting the logic now."

"You dare dismantle it?" an apprentice nearby muttered.

"I built this furnace, why wouldn't I dare dismantle it?" Chen Tiezhu roared back. "Shut up and get to work!"

Chen Wuwang's mouth twitched: "Do your job. If anything goes wrong, I'll take responsibility. But remember, the simultaneous charging of the seven mechs cannot be interrupted."

"Rest assured." Chen Tiezhu sneered. "This furnace fire has been burning for thirty years; it's tougher than your life."

The communication cut off.

Chen Wuwang looked up toward the furnace. He could faintly hear the sound of metal clashing from that direction, like a hammer striking an anvil, one blow after another, steady enough to be frightening.

Just as he was about to turn back, the outer field alarm suddenly flashed red.

"Test Mech No. 3 attitude yaw is 0.3 degrees!" the tester shouted. "Under simulated storm conditions, the trajectory is slightly jittery!"

The crowd went quiet for a moment.

Someone muttered, "Again? We just fixed the receiver, why is it drifting again?"

"Is it a sensor issue?"

"Or is the algorithm compensating too hard?"

Chen Xiaodao walked quickly from the outer field, the interface of his Mechanical prosthetic limb shimmering with a faint light, holding a data pad in his hand.

He stood before the main console, stared at the flight trajectory chart for two seconds, and suddenly reached out to zoom in on a segment of the waveform.

"It's not the algorithm," he said. "The sampling frequency isn't high enough. The attitude sensor refresh rate is only five thousand times per second, and now that the signal stream has accelerated, it can't keep up."

"Then what do we do?"

"Increase the frequency." Chen Xiaodao looked up. "Increase it to ten thousand times. And—"

He paused. "Embed the raw signal stream directly; don't pass it through the prediction layer. Let it correct itself."

Chen Wuwang stared at him: "Are you sure? What if the signal gets chaotic and it twists itself into a pretzel?"

"Then that just means we haven't truly mastered it yet." Chen Xiaodao grinned. "We can't rely on the System to patch data for the rest of our lives, right? Let it fly on its own. If it flies crooked, fix it then; that's the only way it will truly learn."

Chen Wuwang was silent for two seconds, then suddenly laughed: "Fine, do as you say."

The order was given, and the outer field immediately sprang into action.

One group rushed toward the mech's rear sensor array, dismantling the casing, replacing chips, and re-soldering circuits.

Another group furiously typed code at the console, layering the new protocol in.

Half an hour later, the second test flight began.

The mech slowly ascended and entered the simulated storm zone.

Wind pressure, thunderstorms, and spiritual energy turbulence were all activated. The trajectory line on the screen trembled slightly, and then—it stabilized.

The yaw returned to zero.

It hovered as precisely as a nail.

When it turned back, it traced a straight arc, as if measured with a ruler.

In the surrounding crowd, some gasped, and some rubbed their eyes to confirm it wasn't an illusion.

"This time... it really worked?"

"It wasn't patched; it adjusted itself!"

"Holy crap, if this System is installed, those bastards from the Northern Territory won't even be able to catch our shadow!"

Laughter gradually arose; people clapped shoulders and high-fived. The tension that had been suppressed for days seemed to be slashed open by that single straight line.

Chen Wuwang didn't laugh, but his fingers stopped tapping the console. He turned, walked step by step onto the platform's high stage, stood still, and his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye slowly swept across the entire venue.

The people below gradually quieted down.

He knew what they were waiting for.

He also knew what they needed to hear.

"Three days ago," he began, his voice not loud but carrying far, "we were still looking for where the problem was. One wire, one board, one parameter—we checked them over and over."

He paused and raised his hand to point at the mech quietly hovering on the test field.

"And now? It's right there."

No one spoke.

"It wouldn't have flown on its own." Chen Wuwang's voice suddenly rose. "It was you—you connected every wire, you installed every board, you typed out every character! It can fly because you lifted it into the sky!"

Someone below clenched their fists.

"I know you're tired," his voice lowered slightly. "Eyes sore, hands shaking, not even having time to eat a cold meal. But look at the data now—yaw at zero, response synchronized, power at full capacity! We are not far from success!"

The last sentence was almost roared out.

There was a moment of silence.

Then, applause erupted.

It wasn't sparse, it wasn't polite or perfunctory; it was genuine, explosive applause that erupted from their chests.

Some whistled, some jumped up and shouted, "One more run!"

Others had red-rimmed eyes, lowered their heads to wipe their faces, and then buried themselves back into their keyboards.

Chen Wuwang stood on the high stage, motionless.

He saw Chen Tiezhu walk out of the furnace workshop, holding a recording pad, his face covered in dust, but the corners of his mouth were turned up.

He saw Chen Xiaodao standing by the outer field guard post, the data pad tucked under his arm, the Mechanical prosthetic limb interface on his left arm flickering, as if it were breathing.

He saw the R&D team members running back and forth; some were handing over parts, some were shouting parameters, and some were chewing on dry biscuits while running.

The entire platform seemed to have been ignited.

He withdrew his gaze and let it fall onto the main control screen.

The third test flight had already begun. The mech was weaving through the simulated thunderstorm, its trajectory straight, without the slightest hesitation.

He raised his hand and lightly tapped the air with his fingertip.

A new command popped up: [Today's R&D Progress: 78%]

Below it, a countdown automatically appeared: [Time until the first flight of the seventh-generation mech: 67 hours 12 minutes]

He didn't close the light screen.

In the distance, welding torches were still sounding, and the clashing of metal was incessant.

A flow channel on one of the mechs had just had its components replaced and was slowly being infused with spiritual energy, with the pipelines emitting a faint blue glow.

Another group was gathered around the new receiver, discussing the procedural details of the mass retrofitting.

Chen Wuwang stood on the edge of the high stage, the wind blowing through his silver hair. The Mechanical Prosthetic Eye in his left eye adjusted its focus slightly, locking onto the flying mech.

It was passing through the final thunderstorm belt, turning steadily, and preparing to land.