Book friends are all in the discussion area, chatting about the charm of fantasy novels.
Li Jianguo put the resignation report on the table and pushed it in front of Mr. Zhang.
Mr. Zhang glanced at it but didn't answer it. He picked up the tea cup and took a sip before speaking slowly.
"Old Li, I'm not telling you, you're almost fifty, why are you still bothering?"
"Overseas private companies are looking for young people who can stay up late and work hard. What can you do if you go there? Be a consultant for them?"
Li Jianguo said nothing.
"Okay, everyone has their own ambitions." Mr. Zhang picked up the pen, signed it, and pushed the resignation certificate over, "Our Shenfei door will always be open for you. If you can't survive outside, come back at any time."
He paused and added.
"But the ugly words are ahead. After I come back, my previous job titles and benefits will be gone. I'll start from scratch."
Li Jianguo took the resignation certificate, turned around and left.
When he walked to the door, Mr. Zhang's voice came from behind. It was neither loud nor quiet, just enough for him to hear.
"Some people just don't know how much they weigh. After winning an award, do they really think they can build a fifth-generation machine?"
Li Jianguo paused for a moment.
The knuckles of the hand holding the resignation certificate turned white.
He didn't look back.
After walking out of the Shenfei building, Li Jianguo stood at the door and looked up at the flag for a long time.
Then he got in the car and never looked back.
There is only one thing in my mind: If I don't make something, I will never return to this place in my life.
One month later.
DYB North America R&D Center.
The conference room was filled with smoke.
There are three panels of writing densely written on the whiteboard, all of which are the stuck necks of the F-22 production line Manifest.
Li Jianguo stood in front of the whiteboard and talked about each item one by one.
"The avionics system, the flight control source code of Lockheed Martin is completely encrypted."
"Without original factory authorization, it cannot be modified, upgraded, or integrated with any non-original weapons."
"Radar system, AN/APG-77 core module of Raytheon is subject to export controls."
"It's on the embargo list, so I can't buy replacement parts."
"The maintenance parameters of the engine and Pratt & Whitney F119 are all confidential. Without the guidance of the original engineer, the core engine cannot be disassembled."
He put down the pen.
"Mr. Fu, this is the situation. All the core components are in the hands of Amerikan."
"When they sold this production line to us, they didn't intend for us to use it."
There was dead silence in the conference room.
Old Zhang lowers his head and smokes.
Old Wang stared at the whiteboard in a daze.
Li Jianguo stood there, his palms all sweaty.
When he reported difficulties at Shenfei, the leader always slammed the table and said earnestly, "If there are difficulties, you must overcome them! If you don't have the conditions, you have to create conditions! The company pays you wages, not for you to ask questions!"
"We must give full play to our subjective initiative."
"Believe that difficulties can be overcome."
Li Jianguo was subconsciously prepared to be scolded.
Fu Haoran was silent for a few seconds after listening.
"Engineer Li."
Li Jianguo raised his head.
"What's your suggestion?"
Li Jianguo was stunned for a moment.
In twenty years, no one had ever asked for his advice.
The leader gives direct instructions and he is responsible for executing them.
He took a deep breath.
"Bypass."
"Radar, avionics, and engine control systems all bypass the Amerikan supply chain."
"Redesigned using domestic industrial-grade chips, the initial performance will be worse than the original version, the detection range may be 10 to 15 percent shorter, and the avionics integration level will be lower."
"But the advantage is that we are completely independent. We have the final say on subsequent upgrades and modifications without having to look at anyone else's face."
After he finished speaking, the conference room was quiet for two seconds.
Fu Haoran nodded.
"Then go around it."
He stood up and glanced at everyone present.
"Everyone, let me make it clear today. When you are here, you don't have to think about money, channels, or resources. You don't have to be afraid of taking responsibility."
"You just need to tell me what people, what equipment, and what technology are needed to solve these problems."
"I'll take care of the rest."
No one spoke in the conference room.
Li Jianguo stood there, his throat tight and his eyes suddenly hot.
Twenty years.
He stayed up countless nights drawing drawings, and finally signed the leader's name.
His project that won the National Science and Technology Progress Award was completely snatched away by others.
The technical solution he proposed was rejected directly by the leader as "unrealistic".
No one has ever asked him, "What is your suggestion?" No one has ever told him, "I will solve the difficulties, you just focus on technology."
He clutched the circuit board in his hand, his knuckles turning slightly white, and he had only one thought in his mind: This time, he must get it done.
Fu Haoran picked up the circuit board on the table, which was the signal processing module removed from the F-22 radar assembly.
"What is this?"
Li Jianguo came to his senses. "Radar signal processing module."
"Take it apart."
Li Jianguo Take apart the casing, and inside there are a bunch of chips and capacitors, densely soldered on the circuit board.
Fu Haoran points to those chips.
"Can these chips be manufactured in China?"
Li Jianguo hesitated for a moment. "Some can, some can't. Military-grade high-end chips have high process requirements, and there has been no breakthrough in China."
"Who said we should directly use consumer-grade chips?" Fu Haoran smiled.
"We use high-end industrial-grade chips, the main control chips in domestic ATM machines, or automotive-grade chips. What do you think?"
"That's the truth." Fu Haoran picked up the pen and drew a simple schematic diagram of the protective case on the whiteboard, "We don't need to modify the chip itself, but add a custom-made metal shielding protective case to it, with a built-in heat dissipation module, and an anti-electromagnetic interference coating on the outside to specifically deal with the overload and electromagnetic environment of fighter aircraft during flight."
"The avionics system of an F-22 costs 40 million U. S. dollars using Lockheed Martin original chips. We use domestic ATM high-end industrial chips and add customized protective cases. The cost of a single set of avionics can be reduced to less than 2 million yuan."
"Forty million U. S. dollars versus two million yuan. Although the performance is worse than the original version, it is more stable, cheaper, and unregulated. Even if there is a problem during subsequent debugging, it will not hurt to replace it. Is it worth it?"
Li Jianguo was instantly enlightened and nodded fiercely. "It's worth it! It's so worth it!"
His previous ideas have been copied. The F-22 will be framed with original-grade chips. He forgot that Fu Haoran emphasized that the most pragmatic methods should be used to solve the most difficult problems.
The ATM machine chip is operated at high intensity every day in the bank. It is resistant and stable. With a protective shell, it can completely adapt to the flight environment of the F-22. It does not deviate from the main line of replicas and perfectly circumvents the chip blockade of Amerikan.
"Moreover, the chip generation changes every three years." Fu Haoran pushed the circuit board back in front of him, "When our supply chain runs smoothly and the process of the protective case is optimized in place, the performance of high-end industrial chips in three years' time may not be worse than the original Lockheed Martin."
"At that time, our replica of the F-22 will not only cost less than the original version, but also exceed its reliability. We will no longer be chasing others."
Fu Haoran pushes the circuit board back in front of Li Jianguo.
"You are responsible for the design. I will take care of the supply chain."
He paused.
"Yangtze River Delta, Pearl River Delta, those private factories we acquired in China, as well as Shenfei, Chengfei retired experts, who you need, just make a list, Jimmy will connect them all."
Li Jianguo took the circuit board and remained silent.
Old Zhang put out the cigarette in the ashtray.
Old Wang looked away from the whiteboard and sat up straight.
No one spoke, but the atmosphere in the conference room changed.
After the meeting, Fu Haoran came to Tech-Priest Kallen.
Fu Haoran placed the mobile hard drive containing a complete set of F-22 electronic drawings on Kallen's workbench.
Kallen's mechanical prosthetic eye flashes red, and the mechanical tentacles connect to the removable hard drive. After a few seconds:
"Sir, the plans these people have put together are very interesting."
Fu Haoran asked, "Do you think the plan is feasible? Can Hive World realize it?"
"The silicon-based wafer part cannot be used. Hive City does not have such mass production capabilities."
"But this set of underlying logic can be used as a reference." Kallen spoke faster, "Using the vacuum tube logic array from the foundry, combined with the photonic crystal circuit, and the biological neurons grown in the petri dish as Wetware, all the functions of this avionics can be realized one to one."
"The volume will be larger, about this size."
The mechanical tentacles drew a cube half a person's height in the air.
"But it's resistant to explosions and interference, and it's ten times stronger than the fragile pile of silicon chips in the original version."
Fu Haoran The corners of his mouth moved.
Kallen paused, took out a few hand-drawn papers from under the workbench, and pushed them in front of Fu Haoran.
"Sir, there is one more thing."
On the drawings, there are mortars modified from seamless steel pipes, warheads modified from metal cans, and directional mines modified from cylindrical metal containers.
"I have put all these designs under the name of Gear Kid Cam." Kallen's mechanical prosthetic eyes flashed and his tone was serious.
"If he is discovered by Machine Cult colleagues, he will be said to be a low-level apprentice who did it. I have banished him to Hive City Lower Hive and will never set foot in the foundry."
He paused and recited silently three times in the processor: Omnissiah witness, it has nothing to do with me Kallen.
Fu Haoran was silent for two seconds.
"As long as you're happy."
Sijiaer Hive City Border.
Three o'clock in the morning.
The shrill air-raid siren pulled Colonel Cole out of bed.
This was followed by a deafening explosion.
"What's going on?!"
"Colonel! Void Shield didn't trigger! Something came right through!"
Before he finished speaking, a series of explosions exploded in the fortress.
Half of the cooling tower of the power station was torn off, the filter tank of the water treatment plant exploded into a fountain, and a corner of the roof of the barracks collapsed.
Cole rushed to the observation tower. As soon as he raised the telescope, he almost crushed the eyepiece.
In the night sky, hundreds of dark cylindrical objects are falling freely from high altitudes.
There was no tail flame, no acceleration, it just fell down so slowly. The terminal speed was not even the speed of sound.
Void Shield didn't even respond.
"Intercept! Intercept for me!"
Anti-aircraft guns opened fire wildly.
Laser and projectiles were sprinkled into the sky like raindrops, and one would explode from time to time, exploding into a ball of fire.
But there were too many things falling, all over the sky, and there was no way to stop them.
Three minutes later, the bombing stopped.
The power station is paralyzed.
Water treatment plant scrapped.
One-third of the barracks collapsed.
The casualty report was sent to Cole. He took one look at it and threw it on the table.
Seventeen people, all logistics and maintenance personnel.
Cole hadn't recovered yet, and it happened again at the same time in the early morning of the next day.
This time it's something smaller.
Dragging a faint tail flame, it flew over the east ridge. The terminal speed was deliberately lowered, but Void Shield still did not trigger.
The backup pump at the water plant exploded.
The power plant's backup line exploded.
The canteen in the barracks exploded.
Cole sent people to chase the launch point.
The Armored Vehicle team had just left the fortress less than five kilometers away when the leader, Chimera Armored Transport, exploded.
Buried in the soil on both sides of the road, I don't know what it was, but Armored Vehicle exploded when pressed.
The fragments penetrated the side armor of the personnel carrier, and a vehicle of Planetary Defense Force soldiers was destroyed on the spot.
Just as the convoy behind stopped, a dozen people emerged from the wild field on the roadside.
He threw a few black metal cans at the convoy, then turned around and headed into the desert.
By the time team Armored Vehicle reacted, everyone would be gone.
All that was left was craters on the ground and the still-smoldering wreckage of the personnel carrier.
One week.
A whole week.
Come on time every morning to blow up electricity, water sources, and barracks. After the bombing is done, they will disappear.
Send a convoy to chase during the day, and step on thunder when you go out.
The leading car will explode.
After the explosion, someone came out of the field to finish the job.
Just run away after the fight, and you won't be able to catch up.
Cole stood in front of the window of the command post, looking at the black smoke rising in the distance.
This is already the seventeenth attack this week.
His troops suffered more than 200 casualties, including 53 killed and 179 disabled. The surviving soldiers were not even paying attention while standing guard.
"Why didn't Void Shield trigger?" he growled.
The translator and Tech-Priest muttered a few words, and their expressions changed.
"Colonel... Void Shield's trigger threshold is supersonic speed. These things fall too slowly. Void Shield determines that they are not a threat."
"Isn't that a threat?" Cole pointed at the smoking barracks outside the window, "Isn't that a threat?"
After another five days, Cole's patrol team finally found Guerrilla Unit's launch site on the ridge and seized an unexploded ordnance and a set of crude steel pipe launchers.
A metal can.
The tail fin has been welded, a simple fuse has been installed, and there are still traces of some kind of marking on the tank.
Cole stared at the metal can for a long time, and then asked someone to open it.
It was filled with explosives and metal fragments.
"What is this?"
No one knows him.
Tech-Priest studied it for a whole afternoon, scanning it repeatedly with mechanical tentacles and looking through the empire's weapons database.
Finally, the mechanical prosthetic eye flashed crazily and spit out a string of binary digits.
The translator reluctantly translated. "He said... the prototype of this thing is a civilian fuel container called a "gas tank". Those cannonballs that fell from the sky are like this."
"Those buried in the ground are civilian cooking utensils called "pressure cookers."
Cole was silent.
"Where are those launchers?"
The captured launcher was brought in. Several metal pipes were welded together, which was shockingly crude.
Tech-Priest scanned it again, and the binary digits sprayed even more fiercely.
"Seamless steel pipe, civil water pipeline."
The translator paused.
"Colonel, Tech-Priest said... these weapons have not been consecrated and have no Machine Spirit prayers."
"You can use water pipes to weld a frame to launch explosives, and you can use cooking utensils filled with explosives to serve as cannonballs."
"This is the ultimate blasphemy against Machine Spirit."
"Machine Spirit won't even let out a cry after this blasphemous piece of junk is blown up."
Cole stared at Tech-Priest for five seconds.
Then he punched the wall.
He has been fighting for more than ten years, but he has never encountered this kind of fighting style. He does not fight head-on, does not compete for positions, and does not give him any chance for a decisive battle.
Even when they were being blown up, civilian fuel tanks were used to blow them up, cooking utensils were used to blow them up, and a rack welded to a water pipe was used to throw them over his head.
He would rather have a head-on decisive battle with the other party, even if the forces are equal, even if the casualties are heavy, it would be better than being tortured slowly like this.
The adjutant handed over the latest reconnaissance report.
"Colonel, the reconnaissance plane found traces of Guerrilla Unit's activities in the abandoned mine tunnel to the east. They relied on the abandoned underground pipeline of Hive City to directly reach under the fortress wall."
"The pressure cooker mine at the entrance of the barracks yesterday was buried in the pipe."
Cole took the report and read the first line.
"How many more of these do they have?"
The adjutant hesitated.
"According to intelligence feedback from spies, these civilian fuel tanks, cooking utensils, and water pipelines are everywhere in Alpha Hive City."
"They use local materials and the output..."
"What is the production volume?"
The adjutant did not dare to say anything.
Cole held on to the wall and slowly sat back on the chair.
A month ago, his troops' morale was high and they wanted to defeat Alpha Hive City.
Now, the soldiers in the barracks don't even dare to go out. They hold their guns while sleeping at night, and their faces fall down when they hear explosions.
Outside the window, another batch of ammunition soared into the air from the ridge, trailing a faint tail flame and slowly flying towards the fortress.
So slow that you can almost follow it with the naked eye.
Tech-Priest started to curse again with binary bits, "01001111 01101100 01110101 00100001"
The translator paused, "He said, this is blasphemy. Omnissiah Your Majesty, these heretics are worse than garbage."
Cole clenched his fists and asked bitterly, "How many people are they?"
The adjutant opened his mouth but did not dare to speak.
The intelligence sent back by the spies states that more than 1 million militants have been discovered so far fighting guerrillas.
Cole didn't wait for the answer.
Outside the window, another batch of "civilian supplies" slowly flew over.