Fang Linyan then went to a nearby chain auto repair shop. The workshop alone covered thousands of square meters, and it had all the machinery one could need, including lathes. Having worked in an auto repair shop for two years, Fang Linyan was very familiar with the equipment.
What Fang Linyan lacked now wasn't money—it was time! He dropped ten thousand dollars on the counter and said he wanted to borrow the shop's equipment to make something, and that he'd be done within two hours at most.
The owner, Smith, wasn't at all pleased to have this unexpected visitor show up. But it was hard to let his displeasure show when faced with a stack of greenbacks. Still, to be on the safe side, he pulled aside a trusted worker and whispered a few words, telling him to keep a close eye on the newcomer in case he got sticky fingers or damaged a machine through careless use.
Just then, Smith got a call saying that the parts he'd ordered had arrived and he needed to pick them up right away. So he drove off. An hour later, when he got back, he found that the workers who were supposed to be repairing cars in the outer workshop had vanished without a trace.
Smith flew into a rage. So this was what he was paying them for? To slack off? Had none of them any intention of working? He hurried inside, intending to have his foreman, Jack, give the bunch of bastards a thorough tongue-lashing.
But Smith hadn't expected that when he reached the machine shop, he'd be even more furious. Those damned slackers were all gathered there, packed together in a crowd several layers deep. They looked like a pack of wolves that hadn't eaten in a week, staring at a huge, juicy leg of lamb, their eyes practically glowing.
Jack, the man Smith had placed such high hopes in, was standing amid the crowd, holding a small piece of metal in both hands as though it were a precious treasure. His eyes, however, were fixed on the person operating the machinery. It was the man who'd offered ten thousand dollars to use the equipment.
By now, Smith's curiosity had overtaken his anger, so he edged closer to see what was going on. The moment he looked, he found himself unable to tear his eyes away.
Smith wasn't some rich kid. He'd spent thirty years painstakingly building up his auto repair shop to its current size. He might not have been an expert in automotive repair, but he knew how to recognize quality. The stranger in front of him was machining a part on a lathe without even using a blueprint—and it wasn't one of the usual CNC lathes, either. He was using that ancient manual lathe!
That alone was impressive, but Smith had already noticed several parts assembled nearby. They were incredibly precise, and the largest was no bigger than a fingertip. Yet once fitted together, they formed a seamless silver stainless-steel cube. Unless someone touched it and made it come apart, no one would ever guess that it was assembled from separate pieces.
"The machining precision is incredible—at least IT7 grade. The surface roughness must be down to 0.5 microns. That's the kind of standard you'd only see in a specialized university lab! Who is this guy? How can he achieve this kind of precision on a manual lathe?"
Watching Fang Linyan work reminded Smith of something. He'd once overheard two experts in mechanical engineering discussing whether artificial intelligence could replace human beings. One of them had said emphatically that it was impossible: no matter how perfect machinery became, it could never understand art.
A truly perfect industrial product possessed an indescribable beauty, as though it had come straight from nature. It was pleasing to the eye in a way that machines would never understand.
At first, Smith hadn't thought much of that claim. But when he saw the B-2 bomber, the pinnacle of the era's mechanical technology, he'd been deeply moved. Then he thought of masterpieces like Lamborghini, Bugatti Veyron, and Aston Martin—works of art forged through centuries of automotive ingenuity and countless refinements. That was when he finally understood what mechanical beauty meant.
Why did the wealthy go to such lengths to collect dozens of luxury cars? Why did auto shows draw so many men like moths to a flame? Beyond the allure of wealth and the models, it was the mechanical beauty of cars that effortlessly captivated the senses. Even those who couldn't own one could still enjoy the same thrill women felt when they went shopping.
Now, watching Fang Linyan machine those parts by hand, Smith saw that despite their plain appearance, they possessed a hint of that same effortless beauty when examined closely. No wonder he couldn't help marveling at them.
Fang Linyan was pressed for time and couldn't spare a thought for the onlookers. He hurriedly finished making the devices he'd designed earlier, then headed for the airport. Along the way, he assembled them, finally finishing just before boarding.
However, Fang Linyan had been so focused on machining the parts that he failed to notice something: every time he finished a part, an almost imperceptible ripple passed across its surface, as if concealing something.
At the security checkpoint, the contents of his bag revealed a plate-sized wall clock, a peculiar ornament seemingly pieced together and welded from screws and other parts, and an electric shaver.
The clock and the shaver were allowed through without question. A security officer examined the unusual ornament for a while and asked Fang Linyan what it was. Fang Linyan answered without hesitation that he'd bought it as a rare piece of local art while touring Detroit, and that it captured the distinctive character of the Motor City.
The security officer took another look at the strange ornament, confirmed it posed no danger, then waved him through.
After boarding and taking his seat in first class, Fang Linyan finally let out a long breath. He was relieved both to have completed the first stage of his mission and to have gotten away with his trick.
As the plane began to close its cabin doors and announced that it was preparing for takeoff, Fang Linyan suddenly noticed that time seemed to be slowing down. The flight attendant with her back to him was bending over to pour water, her graceful curves pleasing to the eye. Her movements became sluggish, as though playing back in slow motion, and a series of messages began appearing across his retinas.
You have successfully boarded American Airlines Flight 11 (from Boston Logan International Airport to Los Angeles).
Main Mission: Delay Means Death (Complete)
Mission Completion: Terrible (E) (You wasted a great deal of time before boarding, doing things that had nothing to do with the main mission.)
You have gained 1 Universal Point.
Generating data.
Making data assessments.
Analyzing data.
During your exploration of this world, you inflicted minor injuries on only one local resident, who was a criminal.
During your exploration of this world, you helped an elderly local resident and did not take any of his money.
During your exploration of this world, you gave aid to as many as six local homeless people, improving their financial circumstances and profoundly affecting their lives.
Your personality and behavioral tendencies are classified as Lawful Good.
Generating your subsequent main mission.
Before you continue