The Warhammer World's Weakness

The Warhammer World's tech tree was a little crooked, especially when it came to its air force.

Valkyrie Attack Aircraft, Thunderbolts, Marauder Bombers... They were all blocky bricks.

Their engines were exposed, their cockpit canopies had sharp angles, and nobody had bothered to make them even vaguely bubble-shaped, let alone stealthy.

Fu Haoran suspected that even the most primitive radar screens from the 2K era could clearly pick up Warhammer World's aircraft.

"Of all the fighters in Warhammer World, only the Orks' planes barely fit the laws of aerodynamics. They're the only ones that could pass for something that can actually fly."

Complaints aside, even the cheapest jet fighter in the 2K World cost ten million dollars.

And there was no way he could train qualified pilots in a short time.

So Fu Haoran had given up on buying fighter jets from the very beginning.

"Joe, I'm looking to buy a batch of military drones. Do you have any connections?" Fu Haoran asked over the phone.

Jobs replied readily, "No problem. MQ-9 Reapers? RQ-4 Global Hawks? X-47B Pegasus drones? I can get you any of those at a friendly price."

Jobs agreed without hesitation, but when Fu Haoran saw the so-called friendly prices, he suddenly felt like a poor man.

There was no other explanation. They were too expensive!

A Reaper drone cost thirty million dollars. A Global Hawk cost fifty million for the bare aircraft, and over seventy million with all its equipment—about as much as an F-35A fighter jet.

Pick one? This friendly price is still highway robbery! Fu Haoran cursed inwardly.

I'd be heartbroken if even one went down. Besides, Warhammer World's air defenses aren't that pathetic.

Those modified las-cannons mounted on the Promethium Factory's watchtowers could still be quite effective at locking onto fast-moving targets once the Cogitator coordinated their fire control. Their interception rate wouldn't be low, and they had a long range, too!

If I only had a few drones, they wouldn't be able to complete a penetration mission.

Conservatively, I'd need at least a dozen drones to completely cripple the factory's defenses. That means spending hundreds of millions in a single battle!

Even a nouveau riche's money is still money.

I need cost-effective drones that I won't mind losing.

After politely declining Jobs's offer, Fu Haoran began researching the drones used by various countries in the 2K World.

He scoured the drone catalog, and one model suddenly caught his eye: Persia's Shahed-136, nicknamed the Moped Drone.

In terms of performance, the thing was dead last.

It flew slowly, wasn't very large, carried only a few dozen kilograms of explosives, and had terrible accuracy. It could miss a stationary target by several meters. Everything about it screamed, "Good enough, I guess."

But it had one overwhelming advantage: it was cheap.

Each one cost only about twenty thousand dollars to make.

Fu Haoran smiled. "This thing was practically tailor-made for me."

The Moped Drone embodied the philosophy of doing the bare minimum and making do.

Its engine was a modified civilian motorcycle engine.

Its body made extensive use of fiberglass, plastic, and wood.

No missiles? No, the aircraft itself was the missile. Just crash it into the target.

Missiles were nowhere near as cheap as the aircraft's body.

If its accuracy wasn't good enough, make up for it with numbers.

Once something became cheap enough, the way you used it changed completely.

"Put simply, this is human-wave tactics with drones!"

Fu Haoran stared at the screen, his mind racing through the numbers.

A single anti-aircraft shell from a Manticore missile platform in Warhammer World cost at least a hundred thousand Throne Coins. Converted by purchasing power, that was at least a million dollars.

Shoot down one of my twenty-thousand-dollar little mopeds?

Every one they shoot down costs them money.

More importantly, the Cogitator system had a limited number of fire-control channels.

A standard Hive City air-defense Cogitator could lock onto at most sixteen targets simultaneously and manage eight fire-control channels.

What if, instead of a few expensive, blocky fighter jets, it faced hundreds or thousands of buzzing little mopeds swarming in from different directions and at different altitudes...?

"The system will definitely overload."

"It'll either be unable to calculate fast enough or run out of ammunition."

"That's the one."

Fu Haoran made his decision at once.

He glanced at the system's countdown: twenty-nine days.

There was enough time.

The problem is, these drones count as military equipment, and Persia is a sensitive region for arms purchases.

It's not realistic for a Chinese person like me to go buy them.

If I can't buy them, I'll make them myself.

The first thing that came to mind was his alma mater: the Industrial University School of Mechanical Engineering.

When he was a student, their lab had worked on developing small drones. They had a solid foundation, and more importantly, his alma mater didn't chase flashy projects. It was practical, which made it a perfect fit for low-cost mass production.

Without hesitation, Fu Haoran booked the earliest flight back to China.

The industrial supply chain that Warhammer can't put together? Any prefecture-level city back home can handle that. China's vast industrial behemoth—that's my trump card.

Back in China, in the Industrial University School of Mechanical Engineering's laboratory building.

Three hours later, in the Industrial University School of Mechanical Engineering's laboratory building.

"Professor Wang, it really can't be fixed." A bespectacled student crouched beside a machine tool, looking miserable.

"The motherboard's completely fried. Replacing it would cost almost as much as buying a new one."

Professor Wang's hair was a mess, and stubble covered his chin. "Ah, try to think of something. The undergraduates need it for their graduation projects next month. We can't make them build models out of cardboard, can we?"

It wasn't that Professor Wang didn't want to fix it. The problem was that the funding simply wouldn't get approved.

At the end of the day, this thing just wasn't profitable right now.

The military thought it was too low-end, there was no civilian market, and although they'd published paper after paper, they still couldn't find anyone willing to pay.

Another student held up his phone and said miserably, "Teacher Li's in trouble, too. The 3D printer in his lab broke, and companies are coming to poach people. They're offering eight thousand a month, so a lot of students have decided to go work in factories."

The lab fell silent.

Several graduate students crouched in a corner, packing things into a cardboard box. The words "Delivery Rider Application Materials" stood out on the box.

A small drone prototype sat on the workbench. Its body was made of carbon fiber, but the edges of its wings were cracked and patched up with clear tape.

Professor Wang looked at the prototype, his eyes dim.

They had finished building the machine three years ago. The flight controls and aerodynamics were all calibrated; they just needed funding for a small production run.

But despite publishing several papers, they had failed to attract any investment. Companies thought it was too low-end, and the university said it had no prospects for commercialization.

It wasn't that they lacked the ability. They just lacked funding and projects.

Now the lab's machine tools were covered in rust, and students were making their graduation-project models out of cardboard.

An electronics factory on the coast had come looking to hire, offering more than ten thousand a month. Several second-year graduate students were already debating whether to give up research and go tighten screws on an assembly line.

Professor Wang knew they had the skills and the ideas, but without money, it was all just talk.

Just then, the lab door swung open.

Fu Haoran walked in and glanced around the lab. "Professor Wang, I've got a project. Would you be willing to take it on?"

"What kind of project? The university's requirements might be a bit demanding." Professor Wang sounded hesitant.

Professor Wang vaguely remembered Fu Haoran. His family only had a small factory, and he didn't have much money.

Professor Wang worried that agreeing to the project would bring them more trouble than it was worth.

If they asked for too much, the client might think it was too expensive.

If they asked for too little, they'd be holding everyone back.

Fu Haoran took out a contract. "We're going to make... a firefighting drone."

"I can invest twenty million to start. You have to deliver results within a week and guarantee mass production within half a month."

"If everything goes smoothly, I'll put in more money."

For Fu Haoran, who now had a net worth in the tens of billions and plenty of cash on hand, twenty million was a drop in the ocean.

But to everyone else, it meant something entirely different!

"How much?!" Professor Wang's voice cracked. He thought he'd misheard, and quickly took the contract from Fu Haoran.

It wasn't that he had never seen money. He had just never seen a student casually offer funding that his research team couldn't get approved after years of applications.

"Is this really... twenty million?!"

"If we sign now, I'll pay five million upfront," Fu Haoran said.

Professor Wang opened his mouth, but no words came out.

In the corner, the student holding the box of delivery rider application materials visibly stiffened.

The next second, the box crashed into the corner. He practically threw himself in front of Fu Haoran, his eyes red as a hungry wolf's.

"Senior! No, boss! We're absolutely taking this job! The lab is my home! If you won't cast me aside, I'm willing to accept you as my adoptive father!"

"Professor, he's our sugar daddy! Say yes already!"

Several of the students who had followed him out erupted, too.

"Senior! I'm great at programming! I can handle the automation controls!"

"Senior, I study materials science! I can analyze the circuit boards!"

Professor Wang hurriedly pulled up the student who had called Fu Haoran his adoptive father. "Don't be ridiculous. Call him Mr. Fu!"

Then he turned to Fu Haoran with a warm smile. "Mr. Fu, don't worry. We absolutely won't let your investment go to waste!"

He immediately turned around and shouted, "Everyone! Throw out those delivery boxes! We're working through the night!"

The students cheered and rushed back into the lab, forgetting even to pick up their instant noodle cups.

Seeing the lab burst into life, Fu Haoran let out a sigh of relief.

We have to finish production before the Promethium runs out.

I can't wait to see the beautiful sight of air-raid sirens blaring across the factory.