"Drone schematics!" Song He replied.
"Quite strange. I've never seen anything like this—not even a remotely similar model." Master Ye replied. "Since I'm on the night shift, I'll make a prototype for you. You should receive it around one or two in the afternoon."
"Sure thing. Thanks, Master!" Song He said.
"But don't get your hopes up. I've been making drones for over ten years, so I have an instinct for these things. The stranger they look, the worse they perform. It's practically a rule." Master Ye teased. "Whether this thing can even fly normally is still unknown."
"Even if it can't fly, please send the prototype to me. I can use it to learn from the experience," Song He replied.
That wasn't good news. As a veteran drone maker of more than a decade, Master Ye clearly wasn't optimistic about the new model he had designed.
But Song He wasn't worried. There were still several days until the weekend. Success didn't happen overnight; he could simply keep modifying it.
Dozens of kilometers away, in an underground military factory.
In the drone production workshop, a group of workers in gray overalls leaned over their respective computers, discussing things animatedly.
Just now, Master Ye, the workshop's junior supervisor, had posted the schematics in the internal work group and asked everyone to follow them and quickly produce a batch of new prototypes.
They encountered this kind of prototype work every few days. Everyone present was an old hand, so they should have been used to it. But after opening the schematics, their expressions became extremely strange.
"Old Ye, where did this drone model come from? It's as ugly as an alien toad!"
"Exactly, Old Ye. It's so ugly it hurts my eyes. We're working overtime in the middle of the night