649: Chapter 644 Our Era is Coming Back

On the other end of the phone, Leo Garcia suddenly stood up from his workstation, knocking over the coffee on his desk.

His surrounding colleagues all looked at him as if he were a madman.

But he didn't care at all.

He shouted a single word into the phone with all his might.

"Address!"

Dr. Hoffmann smiled.

He hung up and dialed the second number.

This time, it was answered quickly.

"Hello, Dr. Chen." A cold, academic female voice sounded.

"Ava, it's me."

"Abel?" Ava Chen was clearly very surprised.

"Long time no see. I heard about what happened with Sirius."

There was a hint of regret in her voice.

"I'm preparing to restart icarus," Hoffmann cut straight to the point.

"New investor, unlimited budget."

Ava was silent for a few seconds; her reaction was much calmer than Leo's.

"Abel, I appreciate you remembering me. But as you know, I'm currently in a lab at Caltech. Although funding is tight, the project is still ongoing."

"I know. Research on microchannel cooling and liquid metals—it's very promising."

Dr. Hoffmann had clearly been keeping an eye on the movements of his team members.

"But that's not your limit, Ava. Your talent shouldn't be wasted on applying to the Board of Trustees for a few tens of thousands of dollars in equipment procurement."

"Who is the new boss? What's his background? Ownership of the lab? And most importantly, how will our research results and intellectual property be defined?"

Ava raised a series of professional and practical questions.

She truly was the most rational brain in the team.

"The new boss is named Shen Yan."

Dr. Hoffmann tossed the question to Shen Yan, who was standing beside him.

Shen Yan took the phone.

"Hello, Dr. Chen."

His voice was calm and clear.

"The laboratory's property rights belong to me personally, independent of any company. The compensation for all of you will be triple your previous highest annual salary. Furthermore, I will reserve a five percent technical patent dividend right for core team members."

Ava was stunned.

Triple the salary?

A five percent technical patent dividend?

These were sky-high prices that no academic institution or commercial company could offer.

"What do you want?" Ava asked calmly.

"What I want is the same as Abel."

Shen Yan's voice carried through the receiver.

"I need you to push low-temperature plasma bonding technology to the current limits of humanity. Then, use it to build the most perfect chip for me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to use it to drive a new world."

On the other end of the phone, Ava Chen fell silent.

After a long while, she spoke.

"I need to see a formal contract and the lab's equipment procurement list."

"Isabella Thorne, my legal counsel, will contact you within an hour,"

Shen Yan said.

"You will see a list that you cannot refuse."

He hung up and looked at Dr. Hoffmann.

"The last one."

A complex expression appeared on Dr. Hoffmann's face.

"For this guy, we might have to go there in person."

He shook his head.

"It's hard to explain over the phone. He's very stubborn."

Half an hour later.

Shen Yan's Ford stopped in front of a shop named 'Manny's Supreme Auto Repair.'

A heavy smell of engine oil and the piercing sound of grinding wafted out.

Dr. Hoffmann led Shen Yan into the greasy repair workshop.

A man nearly two meters tall and as sturdy as a bear was lying under an old Dodge pickup, with only a pair of oil-stained boots showing.

"Marcus!" Hoffmann called out.

The man under the car didn't react; only the sound of a Wrench turning a bolt continued.

"Marcus Rodriguez!" Hoffmann emphasized his tone.

"F**k!"

An angry curse came from under the car.

"Don't f**king call me by that name!"

The hulking man slid out from under the car. His face was covered in grease, his beard was a mess, but his eyes were like those of a wild beast.

The moment he saw Hoffmann, he froze.

"Abel?"

He then saw Shen Yan behind Hoffmann, and his gaze immediately became wary.

"What did you bring a guy in a suit for? I don't fix you rich people's junk electric cars here."

"Big Guy, we're here to get you to come back," Hoffmann said.

"Go back?" Marcus Rodriguez—or 'Big Guy'—gave a cold laugh.

"How high has the grass grown on Sirius's grave? I f**king hate that name 'Marcus' the most. It's the same name as that bastard who threw us away like trash!"

He stood up, his massive frame bringing a strong sense of pressure.

"I fix cars here and make two hundred bucks a day, but I live like a human being. I never want to go back to that hellhole and watch a bunch of idiots boss us around."

"This time is different," Hoffmann said.

"What's different? A new boss? Isn't it just the same thing, treating us like chickens that lay golden eggs?"

Big Guy glanced at Shen Yan, his eyes full of disdain.

"This person," Shen Yan took a step forward, looking him straight in the eye, "the Marcus who sold Sirius like trash—he paid the price."

"Price? What price could a guy like him pay? Lose some money?"

"No."

Shen Yan's tone was very calm.

"He's bankrupt. His family fund was targeted, and all the assets under his personal name were forcibly liquidated to compensate for my losses."

Big Guy's movements halted.

He stared at Shen Yan.

"You did it?"

"I did."

The workshop fell into silence.

Only the air compressor continued to hum.

The mockery and disdain on Big Guy's face slowly vanished.

In its place was a complex emotion.

He hated Marcus; he hated him to the bone.

The young man in front of him had avenged him.

"icarus is restarting."

Shen Yan spoke.

"I need your hands. In this world, only your hands can turn the things in Abel's head into reality."

"I need a reaction chamber that can withstand a 30,000 Gauss magnetic field constraint, and parts assembly with an error of no more than one micron. Leo's algorithms and Ava's materials all need your hands to bring them together."

"I'll build you the best workshop in the world. All the tools, all the machine tools—we'll use the top-tier ones from Germany and Switzerland. You'll have the final say."

Every word Shen Yan spoke was like a heavy hammer striking Big Guy's heart.

He wasn't hiring a worker.

He was inviting an artist.

Big Guy remained silent; he lowered his head and looked at his own hands—rough, covered in calluses, scars, and grease.

These hands once controlled robotic arms with nanometer-level precision.

Now, they could only be used to turn rusty bolts.

He looked up, his eyes red, and stared at Hoffmann.

"Abel, is what he said true?"

Hoffmann nodded heavily.

"It's true, Big Guy."

"Our era is coming back."