32: Chapter 32: Paper Published: On How to Make a Nuclear Bomb Using a Coke Bottle

Across the ocean, at the headquarters of the US Intelligence Agency. Inside the highest-level underground conference room, the air was so heavy it felt like it could drip water.

Representative Smith, the Intelligence Director, sat at the head of the table, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the surface. Sitting opposite him was Dr. Wilson, the Chief Scientist of the US Department of Energy and a Nobel Prize winner in Physics.

"Director Smith, are you certain this is the top-secret intelligence that 'Black Mamba' risked her life to send back?"

Dr. Wilson held the freshly printed document, his brows furrowed into a tight knot, his expression looking even more uncomfortable than if he had swallowed a fly.

"Absolutely certain."

Representative Smith looked serious, his tone filled with unquestionable confidence. "For this intelligence, our best agent lurked in that man's villa for an entire night! She transcribed it word by word! Every punctuation mark is stained with her blood and sweat!"

"But..."

Dr. Wilson took a deep breath, pointed to the first line of the document, his voice trembling:

"《On How to Use a 2.5-Liter Coke Bottle for Isotope Centrifugal Separation》?"

"Director, are you kidding me? This is science, not some street dance show! Using a plastic bottle for nuclear fusion? This is simply an insult to physics!"

"Doctor!"

Representative Smith slammed his hand on the table, his gaze sharp. "That Jiang Chen brought out a Lithography Machine, brought out 6G, and even that damn mecha! He is a madman, but he is also a genius! A genius's ideas are often crazy!"

He stood up, placed his hands on the table, and stared fixedly at Wilson:

"Don't worry about how ridiculous the title is. I've looked at it; the formulas inside are extremely complex. I am ordering you now to immediately gather the top minds in your team and verify its feasibility for me!"

"If we don't try, what if it's real?"

This sentence hit Wilson's weak spot. Yes, what if?

That magical Eastern country had recently produced too much black technology, so much so that even he, a Nobel laureate, had begun to doubt reality.

"Fine."

Wilson gritted his teeth and grabbed the absurd document. "Prepare a laboratory for me. And... go to the supermarket and buy a case of Coke. Get the big bottles, the ones with the red label."

US National Laboratory.

A group of top physicists, usually revered and gray-haired, were currently surrounding a specially made ultra-high-speed centrifugal turntable.

In the center of the turntable was tied something everyone was all too familiar with—an empty Coke bottle, still containing a few residual drops of black liquid.

The scene was incredibly awkward for a moment.

"Ahem, are the parameters set?" Dr. Wilson wore protective goggles, feeling as though he had lost all his dignity.

"They are set, Doctor."

The assistant had an expression like he was constipated, holding the paper in his hand. "According to the 'Jiang Formula', we need to inject a lithium deuteride solution into the bottle, then heat it to 800 degrees, while reaching a rotation speed of 3000 revolutions per second..."

"Begin."

Wilson waved his hand, as if issuing a suicide order.

"Hum——!!!"

The centrifuge started. Under the powerful centrifugal force, the Coke bottle instantly turned into a blur. The microwave heater ran at full power, and the temperature inside the bottle rose sharply.

"All data is normal!"

"Energy level transitions are fluctuating!"

"My God! Look at that formula! It's actually self-consistent! Energy is gathering!"

The scientists, who had previously looked on with disdain, were now all pressed against the blast-proof glass, their eyes flashing with unbelievable fanaticism.

That seemingly nonsense formula had actually perfectly closed the loop in mathematical logic! The energy readings were skyrocketing!

Could it be that that Easterner had really mastered the god-like skill of extracting nuclear fuel using a cheap plastic bottle?

"A miracle! This is a miracle!"

Dr. Wilson was trembling with excitement; he felt as though he saw the Nobel Prize beckoning to him and the return of US energy hegemony.

However, he had clearly overlooked one fundamental problem.

The "Coke bottle" in the Wasteland was made of high-strength memory alloy and radiation-proof polymers. But the one in his hand was two-dollar PET plastic from a Walmart supermarket.

The next second, tragedy struck.

"Alarm! Container pressure has reached the critical value!"

"It's going to explode! Run!"

Before the group of old men could react. "Boom——!!!"

With a loud bang, the blast-proof glass was instantly covered in countless cracks. The Coke bottle was, after all, not made of divine metal; under high temperature, high pressure, and ultra-high speed, it very simply—exploded.

There was no nuclear explosion. But that pot of scalding, black liquid mixed with chemical reagents turned into a sky full of high-temperature steam, instantly filling the entire laboratory.

"Cough, cough, cough!" "My eyes! My hair!"

A few minutes later, the ventilation system extracted the smoke. The group of top scientists, who had originally been impeccably dressed, were now all sporting afros, their faces as black as if they had rolled in a coal mine, their lab coats turned into shredded rags, looking as disheveled as refugees who had just crawled out of the Syrian battlefield.

Dr. Wilson spat out a puff of black smoke and shakily leaned against the table. "Liar... That Easterner is a liar..."

A young assistant nearby suddenly screamed, holding a surviving monitor in his hands, eyes brimming with tears: "No! Doctor! He's not a liar!"

"Look at this! In the millisecond before the explosion, the energy reading really broke through the ignition threshold!"

"His formula is correct! It's just that our bottle was too trashy! If we can find that kind of 'God's Container', this will really work!"

Wilson snatched the monitor. Looking at the perfect curve on it, he fell silent. It was the curve of truth.

Although he had been blasted black, this scientist's intuition told him he had discovered a gold mine. The core algorithm of this paper was worth a fortune!

"Quick!" Wilson, sporting his charred curly hair, had a terrifyingly fanatical look in his eyes. "Organize the experimental data! Delete the part about the Coke bottle; it's too embarrassing! Focus on elaborating that core formula!"

"I want to send it to Nature magazine! This is absolutely the biggest bombshell in the physics world this year!"

Three days later. Across the ocean, at the editorial department of Nature journal. Editor-in-Chief David was rubbing his throbbing temples, preparing to reject the trash submission in his hand regarding the "Relationship Between Quantum Mechanics and Cat Food".

Suddenly, an urgent email popped up in his inbox. The sender was Dr. Wilson from the US National Laboratory, and the title was very long and strange: 《On the Application Hypothesis of Non-Traditional Containers in High-Energy Physics Environments and Core Fusion Threshold Algorithms》.

"Wilson?" David paused. "Isn't this old guy working on some national-level project? Why does he have time to write a paper?"

He clicked it open nonchalantly. Five minutes later. "Clatter." The coffee cup in David's hand fell to the floor, brown liquid splashing all over the expensive carpet, but he didn't notice at all.

He stared fixedly at the set of formulas on the screen, his breathing so rapid it felt like he was suffocating.

As the Editor-in-Chief of Nature, he had an extremely keen academic sense. He couldn't understand what the so-called "non-traditional container" was (Wilson was too embarrassed to write "Coke bottle" and used vague wording), but he understood the math.

This set of formulas perfectly solved the stability problem of Tokamak devices that had plagued the physics world for fifty years! Although it looked crazy, wild, and even had a whiff of "amateur science" to it, it was correct!

"Who wrote this?" David tremblingly scrolled to the end of the paper and saw the signature. First Author: Jiang Chen. Second Author: Wilson.

"Jiang Chen?" David searched his mind for this name, coming up blank. He wasn't a professor at MIT, nor a big shot from Cambridge, nor even a member of any known laboratory. It was as if he had popped out of a crack in a rock.

"Regardless of who he is..." David suddenly grabbed the phone and roared at the layout department, "Pull the cover for the next issue! Replace it with this!"

"The title must be big! It must be eye-catching!" "Call it—《God's Formula: The Dawn of Nuclear Fusion from the East》!"

The next day. With the global release of the Nature journal, the entire physics world was shaken. Whether it was the European Organization for Nuclear Research in Geneva or the Longke Academy in the Dragon Kingdom, all scientists working in physics were currently holding that magazine, staring at that set of unorthodox yet unassailable formulas, lost in deep thought.

Inside the Longke Academy. Dean Zhong Guodong looked at the familiar signature on the magazine, the corner of his mouth twitching wildly.

He picked up the phone and dialed that number that made him both love and hate. "Jiang Chen! You explain this to me!"

"Didn't you say that was just an instruction manual for a 'Coke bottle centrifuge' you wrote for your neighbor?" "How the hell did it become the cover article of Nature?!"