Chapter 974: The Old Thing Dropped Gold Coins!

Chapter 974: The Old Man Dropped His Gold!

Dawn City Nuclear Power Plant, generator room.

Blue and green signals flickered alternately on the control panel’s screen, while a low, steady white noise echoed through the spacious room.

An aged reactor sat at the center of the facility, surrounded by a dense crowd of people.

Its faded markings and serial number gave the reactor an antiquated charm, yet the cast, streamlined shell and intricate design were still commendable.

It wasn’t just the Alliance that thought so.

Even the engineers from Ideal City agreed.

Thus, ever since the shelter residents retrieved this [Backup Reactor] from the deepest depths of West City’s subway lines and built a power station for it, the reactor had served as the heart of the Alliance’s industry.

And that wasn’t all—it also acted as a demonstration model for researchers at Camp 101 to study and reference.

It was precisely because of these accolades that Wang Zhengyi, the nuclear fusion engineer at Dawn City Power Plant, proudly showcased this achievement.

Though the administrators told them to learn from the Academy, they couldn’t let themselves be looked down upon, could they?

Besides, only when the student’s work was good enough would the teacher be willing to share real expertise!

Of course, Wang’s true intention was simpler—he just wanted to show off in front of the Academy on behalf of the Alliance.

But to his surprise, that young man in his twenties, upon seeing this “crystallization of the Prosperity Era’s civilization,” merely curled his lips faintly and even threw out a few dismissive jabs without any regard for face.

Wang’s face had turned as red as a lantern; his colleagues watched him anxiously, fearing his blood pressure might spike.

Yet the young man named Zhong Jingchu showed no sign of stopping, even adding a casual final blow.

“Too primitive.”

“You’re the one who’s primitive!” Wang Zhengyi shot back angrily. “You’re so great! So amazing! If you don’t use laser ignition, what do you use?”

Zhong Jingchu smiled faintly and said slowly.

“We don’t ignite. We cold-start.”

Wang Zhengyi was stunned, as if doused with cold water.

“…Cold start?”

He had heard the term from the Corporation, and experts at Camp 101 had mentioned it too, but both sides advised against this technical route, even though it was more energy-efficient and effective.

The reason was simple.

Though controlled fusion was a non-renewable resource until Earth-Moon flights resumed, the wasteland still held considerable reserves left from the Prosperity Era.

And given the scale of current surface industrial activity, it still fell short of the old era’s economic crisis period—there was no need to worry about conservation.

At least not for fifty years.

Seeing the bewildered old engineer, Zhong Jingchu didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a bottle of mineral water from his android assistant, unscrewed the cap, and splashed two streams onto the floor.

This time, not only the old engineer but also the other engineers at Dawn City Power Plant looked confused, wondering what he was up to.

Facing those puzzled gazes, Zhong Jingchu continued in plain terms.

“…To fuse two metal balls, the most efficient way isn’t to press them together, but to melt them.”

“The same goes for atoms. Whether using laser ignition, inertial collision, or indirect ignition—these are all methods from the early Prosperity Era, or even the Old Era.”

“That’s understandable.”

“After all, in an age when we knew nothing about the nature of the four fundamental forces, we could only imagine a conceptual ‘forge’ and a skilled ‘blacksmith’ in our minds, using the crudest, most inefficient ways to smelt, hammer, and break atomic nuclei, forcing them to release the energy hidden within.”

“But when our professors discovered the existence of gravitons, everything changed dramatically. At first, we continued using laser technology, but not for ignition—instead, to polarize atoms into special bonded states, pulling them closer. Later, we found ways to directly manipulate graviton interference fields. Then we tried to weaken the repulsion between atoms, breaking the balance between repulsion and attraction… And then, a miracle we never expected occurred.”

“Atoms fused together like water.”

Hearing this, one engineer muttered.

“Isn’t it just gravitons? Why all the roundabout talk… But even with gravitons, don’t you still need to input energy first?”

The other engineers shared similar opinions.

Driving gravitons consumed no small amount of energy—it might not be cheaper than laser ignition.

“Yes, you have to give to take; ignition energy is unavoidable,” Zhong Jingchu nodded, then shifted his tone. “But by interfering with the force field, we can further reduce the energy needed for ignition and maintaining the reaction.”

“We’re not interfering with something as large as the Steel Heart airship—just a few atoms undergoing reaction. The energy consumed is orders of magnitude lower than using lasers to heat plasma… and it’s more stable and efficient.”

“Going back to the miracle I mentioned: we discovered that by using gravitons to bind atoms, the originally violent fusion reaction occurred under mild conditions—at least in that initial instant, it was incredibly gentle.”

“And that’s what we call cold start.”

Watching the engineers listen intently, Zhong Jingchu smiled faintly and continued at a steady pace.

“Based on similar technical principles, researchers at the People’s Union also discovered how to maintain fusion reactions at room temperature and pressure, and how to make them gentler—a series of more convenient and efficient methods.”

“Even the portable reactors you made through the black box were born in this process.”

Brilliant!

Aside from a few nuclear engineers, the staff and onlookers gathered around the reactor couldn’t help but applaud.

The Alliance’s nuclear engineers didn’t clap, but their faces showed admiration.

Though they had learned some reactor maintenance techniques from Camp 101, as wastelanders, they truly didn’t know where these technologies came from.

Even their teacher—the professor at Camp 101—might not know.

After all, the teachers at Vault 101 didn’t teach everything.

That young man filled in their knowledge gaps, effortlessly recounting the history that almost all wastelanders had forgotten.

From the principles of the technology.

To the origins closer to the essence than the principles!

Though impressed by the young man’s vast knowledge, Old Master Wang wasn’t entirely convinced—only half so.

Admiration aside, all those clichés were just things that had happened before.

These memories couldn’t serve as reactor fuel or as a reactor shell.

He cared more about practical matters.

“You talk as if you did those experiments yourself,” Wang Zhengyi finally squeezed out after a long pause.

Zhong Jingchu smiled slightly and said.

“The experiments weren’t done by me, but we’ve personally repeated every single one. Not only do I remember every detail clearly, but I also know ‘why it is that way.’”

Wang Zhengyi held his breath, his eyes gradually growing fervent.

“Is that true?”

Zhong Jingchu nodded with a smile and said gently.

“Of course it’s true. And my mentor said it’s time to hand over this legacy to you.”

“About how these technologies came to be, how to apply them, and how to experiment and improve upon the foundations of our predecessors.”

Hearing this, Old Master Wang lost all his temper, completely convinced.

And his face, once flushed like a pig’s liver, returned to a beaming smile.

The manager was certainly not joking—those fellows from the Academy really had some skills!

If an expert of the same caliber had tried to show off in front of him, he naturally wouldn't have been pleased.

Moreover, making a man in his forties or fifties bow his head to a young lad just over twenty was psychologically unacceptable.

But after this conversation, he could already be certain: this guy was far superior to him, even standing at the level of the atmosphere... There was simply no comparison between the two.

If he could learn some real skills from the Academy, he wouldn't mind lowering his head a bit.

At worst, after mastering them, he could go show off in front of the corporate folks.

Just as Wang Zhengyi was thinking this, the faces of the other engineers were already filled with eager expressions, completely and utterly convinced.

"Brother, that cold ignition... no, that non-ignition method—you've got to teach us!"

"Ah, why didn't my brain think of that!"

"Please, brother, don't be stingy with your teachings!"

"Big brother, if you don't mind, I'll call you master!"

Watching these knowledge-thirsty wastelanders, Zhong Jingchu gave a subtle, composed smile.

Though the corners of his mouth were almost impossible to suppress, he still maintained the expression of a reclusive master taking on disciples.

"You're too kind."

"I'll tell you everything I know!"

The onlookers gathered near the reactor included not only nuclear power plant employees but also a few idle players slacking off.

Under normal circumstances, no player would bother running to such a background-like facility, but recently was clearly not normal.

The Academy had sent an expert team to the Alliance—this event had made the headline of Dawn City's *Survivor Daily*!

Although the Academy had sent researchers and surveyors to Dawn City long ago, their numbers were scarce, and they always appeared and disappeared mysteriously; unless one took on a scientific expedition mission, it was hard to encounter them.

That was precisely why, when they heard these researchers were lurking near the nuclear plant, they all flocked over out of curiosity.

This was far more interesting than the mammoths in the zoo!

And indeed, it was.

After watching a grand show of showing off, [Solo Jungle] couldn't help but clap along with the NPCs.

"Damn, these Academy folks really know how to show off!"

[Trade-Hit Marksman] looked at him.

"You mean showing off nuclear fusion?"

Solo Jungle: "What nuclear fusion? I'm talking about showing off."

Trade-Hit Marksman: "Pfft—"

[Fasting Midlaner], who had been silent all along, just kept grinning foolishly, then suddenly chimed in.

"I've noticed the Academy has quite a few tsunderes."

"Like that... Jiang Xuezhou?" Solo Jungle thought for a moment; that seemed to be the only Academy researcher whose name he remembered, and he'd only heard it by chance on the forums.

Fasting Midlaner let out an embarrassed chuckle.

"And Yin Fang."

Trade-Hit Marksman: "?"

Solo Jungle: "?"

Fasting Midlaner: "Hehe, don't you think? Though their mouths are hard, their bodies are honest."

Solo Jungle: "No, I just think you're a bit off..."

Fasting Midlaner: "...?"

On the other side, the bionic engineers from Vault 100 were also whispering among themselves.

They weren't experts in nuclear fusion, but they had some understanding of various fusion reactor models and could tell that the researcher surnamed Zhong really had some skills.

At that moment, the young man named Zhong Jingchu had moved from the history of science to the core difficulties of cold-start technology for fusion reactors and the main ideas for solving them.

Not only were the Alliance's nuclear engineers' eyes lighting up, but [Endgame Lone Wolf], who knew nothing about nuclear fusion, was also listening with rapt fascination, drooling.

But unfortunately.

The former could at least grasp the gist, while the latter was just listening for the spectacle; when he came back to his senses, he realized he'd heard about as much as he hadn't—still utterly clueless.

Reluctantly withdrawing his gaze from the distance, Endgame Lone Wolf said with deep emotion.

"MMP! Too bad I studied automation... Oh, Professor Yan, you're a physicist—tell me, that cold fusion reactor... is it really reliable?"

Feeling the heat in that gaze, Gale sighed and said.

"I'm just a physicist, not a god... Don't overthink it, and don't try to swallow a prosperous era in one bite. First, lay a solid foundation."

Forget advanced stuff like cold start and cold fusion reactors—by the standards of the game world, real-world fusion technology hasn't even achieved the concept of "controlled."

The two aren't even the same thing; the technical principles they rely on are completely different.

Endgame Lone Wolf still wore a reluctant expression, looking at the shaking Gale and couldn't help saying.

"It can at least provide some inspiration, right? Like the technical route or something..."

"You mean the technical route for cold-start nuclear fusion?" Gale couldn't help but laugh, looking at his colleague. "Let me put it this way: in high-energy physics, there's always been a conjecture about unifying the four fundamental forces. Many mathematicians and physicists have struggled for it, even for a lifetime."

Endgame Lone Wolf stared blankly at him, and when no follow-up came after a while, he couldn't help asking.

"...And then?"

Gale was silent for a moment, then turned his gaze to the researcher not far away.

"That's just a conjecture to us."

"But in the game world—that is, here—the 'graviton' that fits the Grand Unified Theory can be 'touched.'"

"Do you know what that means?"

Endgame Lone Wolf looked at him blankly.

"...No."

Gale stared at him for a while, sighed, and looked away.

"...Forget I said anything."

Endgame Lone Wolf: "???"

His good buddy Fang Chang always felt that *Wasteland OL* wasn't just a simple game world, but more like a living world, but as a physicist, he had a different view.

Just from a physicist's perspective, he thought it was more like another universe.

The physical laws of reality didn't fully apply here, or only applied within a limited scope.

And the deeper one went into the microscopic realm, the greater the probability of this phenomenon occurring.

For example, the classic double-slit interference experiment—in the game world of *Wasteland OL*, the requirements for instrument precision are higher than in reality, which also means the "uncertainty" of the microscopic world here is smaller.

By reverse inference, the Planck constant of the *Wasteland OL* world is smaller than that of reality, even if the deviation is so small it's almost incalculable, or infinitesimal in a mathematical sense.

But even if the infinitesimal is different, it is different nonetheless.

This is actually a thought that chills you to the bone.

A smaller Planck constant means a smaller quantum scale, a lower probability of quantum effects, a more stable universe, and fewer uncertainties.

Let me give a simple, easy-to-understand example.

If the God who creates all things in the world is compared to a computer, or a graphics card with limited but immense computing power, then suppose there are two Gods, A and B, each using their own computing power to generate two different worlds, A and B.

God A can only generate models of cities and citizens, while the pores on the citizens' skin are blurred; only when the camera zooms in on a citizen's face are the pores generated in real time. Before the act of observation, there are no pixels belonging to the pores.

Moreover, in places the camera cannot see, the "little people" generated in World A occasionally walk through walls—commonly known as "clipping."

God B's graphics card is different: it can not only generate a city and the pores on citizens' skin simultaneously, but even details visible only under a microscope—whether or not the observer brings their eyes that close, the pixels of those textures exist, or rather, their existence does not depend on the act of observation.

In the world generated by God B's graphics card, people cannot walk through walls; at least the "little people" walking through the city cannot clip, whether the player sees them or not.

To discover a "clipping" bug in the world generated by God B's graphics card, you would have to look at a microscopic scale invisible even to a microscope.

For example, at the nanometer scale.

When a chip becomes small enough, microscopic particles like electrons can cross potential barriers—this is the so-called "quantum tunneling" effect.

To make an inappropriate but vivid analogy: if the world generated by God B's graphics card is called "Earth Online," then the world generated by God A's graphics card is "Night City."

Moreover, it is a Night City in countless parallel universes, unaffected by continuous interference and observation from "Earth Online" players.

Especially the condition "unaffected by continuous interference and observation" is crucial, because any interference can iterate and fission into N different parallel worlds in units of "frame rate," and in fact, different players' save files are indeed different.

At the same time, for a game world where thermodynamic experiments cannot be performed, "frame rate" is one of the important parameters for calculating the Planck constant.

And the Planck constant calculated based on frame rate must be less than 1 and greater than the real-world Planck constant!

And far greater!

"Wasteland Online" has no concept of frame rate; both the graphics and the precision of the physics engine are far superior to traditional AAA games.

Here, not to mention thermodynamic experiments, even nuclear tests can be conducted. Using real-world methods, you can directly calculate the Planck constant, and that's exactly what Gale did.

At first, he did the experiment just for fun.

After all, he knew in his heart that this behavior was like fooling himself—either the game server would ignore his actions after observing them, or it could directly pull encyclopedia data to give him the result he wanted.

But the experimental result surprised him, just like the first time he encountered quantum mechanics—

God had vanished.

Or rather, hidden away.

In theory, the Planck constant of "Wasteland Online" should be greater than that of "Earth Online," just like Los Santos in GTA5, Night City in Cyberpunk, or Skyrim in The Elder Scrolls...

Yet the calculation result was the opposite—

The former's value was infinitely close to the latter, and even smaller than the latter!

No matter how many times he calculated, or how many times he repeated the experiment, the result was the same.

This meant that "God B" had moved into "God A's" house—a graphics card with lower computing power was running on a graphics card with higher computing power... and the latter could run programs the former could not?

He had lived for over thirty years, and this was the first time he had seen something so absurd!

Either A-Guang was targeting him!

Or the aliens behind A-Guang—the extraterrestrial civilization speculated by mainstream media—had set their sights on him and deliberately designed a special algorithm to lead him to such a result...

For a while, he was lost in confusion and self-doubt because of his discovery. He even took a long leave from work, packed his bags, and went traveling. It took him a long time to adjust his mindset before he emerged from that self-doubting confusion.

Actually, there was nothing to be confused about.

Whether matter exists or not is an objective phenomenon, but "existence" itself is determined by subjective consciousness.

Glancing at the End-of-Days Lone Wolf, who was still obsessing over gravitons and nuclear fusion, Gale said calmly.

"...A game world is just a game world. You can't expect to discover physics theorems in a game or film that haven't been discovered in reality, and fabricating a conjecture that can neither be proven nor disproven is not a difficult thing."

Pausing, he habitually raised his index finger to touch the bridge of his nose.

That pair of glasses, which should have rested on his nose, did not exist in this game world.

In this world, "Gale" was his name, and Yan Feng was just another person living in another world, completely unrelated to "Gale."

"Of course, because of the closeness of the Planck constant... their theories have indeed given me some inspiration. Perhaps we can find an existence similar to gravitons."

The End-of-Days Lone Wolf stared blankly at Professor Yan Feng and said with a bitter smile.

"You're getting harder and harder to understand..."