650: Chapter 645 No, that's not enough.

The big man took a deep breath, as if to inhale all the oil smell of the entire workshop into his lungs.

Then, he walked to the sink and turned on the faucet.

He scrubbed his hands vigorously, again and again, with industrial soap.

As if to wash away all the dissatisfactions and dust of the past few years.

He turned off the faucet and shook the water from his hands.

He turned around and extended his hand to Shen Yan.

“Marcus Rodriguez.”

His voice was deep and powerful.

“icarus Chief Mechanical Engineer.”

“Report for duty.”

Shen Yan grasped that large and powerful hand.

At this point.

icarus’s Trident, after a year, was assembled once again.

Their King was already in place.

And it was Shen Yan who provided them with the entire ocean.

Shen Yan grasped that large and powerful hand.

The agreement was reached.

There was no celebration banquet, no polite small talk.

Not even a moment of rest.

That night, three gulfstream g650s roared through the night sky from different corners of the globe, finally landing on the runway of Jingluo Bay private airport.

Shen Yan couldn’t leave Jingluo Bay for too long, so their workshop had to be temporarily moved from Country M to this location.

Leo Garcia stepped off the gangway, carrying a tactical backpack containing his two laptops and three portable hard drives—his entire world.

Ava Chen carried a silver metal briefcase with an iris and fingerprint dual-authentication lock, inside which were the core data backups of her research over the years.

Marcus Rodriguez was empty-handed; he himself was the most precise instrument.

When they walked into the laboratory, converted from a decommissioned aircraft carrier dock, all three stopped.

In the enormous space, rows of brand-new equipment had been freed from their crates, gleaming with the cold light of metal under shadowless lamps.

There was an electron beam lithography machine from Zeiss in Germany, a vacuum coating system from Leybold in Switzerland, and an experimental device for atomic layer deposition that they had only seen in top industry summit PPTs.

Before, in any other place, they would have to write a six-month report to apply for a single part of these, and then it would likely be rejected.

Now, they were neatly displayed here, like goods on a supermarket shelf.

“My god,” Leo murmured, “Did they move the entire future of G Valley here?”

Shen Yan stood behind them.

“No.”

“It's bringing the future they haven't had time to realize, here, in advance.”

Doctor Hoffmann did not look at the equipment.

His eyes were only on the smart whiteboard that occupied an entire wall and could be written on freely.

Like a mad painter seeing a blank canvas, he stepped forward, picked up a pen, and without hesitation, wrote down the first line of formulas.

That was the core of the “icarus” project, the theoretical basis of low-temperature plasma bonding.

He didn't turn back, just tapped the whiteboard with his pen.

“Leo.”

Leo Garcia understood instantly; he didn't even go to his assigned office, pulling up a chair at the workbench next to him and opening his computer.

His ten fingers became phantoms on the keyboard.

He was going to build a real-time computational mathematical model for Hoffmann's theory.

“Eva, the constraint field data needs correction. I need the real-time resistivity of liquid metal in a superconducting state.”

Hoffmann's voice echoed in the empty laboratory.

Ava Chen had already put on a white dust suit and goggles, walking into the adjacent material analysis room.

“Give me ten minutes.”

Her voice came through the internal communicator, calm and precise.

Marcus, meanwhile, walked towards the massive mechanical workshop, which was separately isolated.

He caressed the cold casing of a brand-new German DMG five-axis linkage machine tool, his eyes like those of a man looking at his lover.

“Abel, send me the initial design drawings and tolerance standards for the reaction chamber.”

“The usual rules,” Hoffmann said without turning his head.

“Understood.”

Marcus grinned.

The usual rules meant an error infinitely close to zero.

Shen Yan stood in the distance, quietly watching this scene.

Chen Guangke stood beside him, his mouth agape enough to fit an egg.

“Damn it, Yan Zi, do these guys not need to have meetings?”

“Their souls are on the same channel; they don't need language.”

Shen Yan replied.

He had thought that a team separated for over a year would need to re-adjust and incur communication costs.

He was wrong.

These four people were like four organs separated from a super organism.

Hoffmann was the brain, responsible for thinking and conceiving.

Leo was the neural network, transforming concepts into data and logic.

Eva was the circulatory system, providing the blood and materials to realize the concepts.

Marcus was the skeleton and muscles, turning all theories into indestructible entities.

There was an understanding between them that transcended language.

An anomalous fluctuating peak appeared in Leo's model.

He didn't need to shout; he just sent a red dot with coordinates in the team channel.

Three seconds later, Eva's voice sounded.

“It's a helium purity issue; I detected 0.1 per mille neon contamination in the sample.”

From the other end, Marcus’s muffled voice came.

“The sealing ring of valve number three, even the Swiss-made one, has flaws. I’ve already started re-machining one, using titanium alloy.”

Hoffmann crossed out a wrong derivation path on the whiteboard, opening up a new direction.

The entire process flowed smoothly, without any stagnation.

They didn't even need to eat.

high-energy nutrient solutions and concentrated coffee were right at everyone's fingertips.

They didn't need to sleep either.

When a person reached their physiological limit, they would go to the nearby rest pod for twenty minutes of forced deep sleep, then immediately return to their post.

Another person would seamlessly take over their work.

Here, there was no day or night.

Only a progress bar.

Shen Yan had created a scientist's paradise for them, or rather, a research asylum.

And these madmen were charging towards the barriers of human technology at a terrifying speed.

Three weeks later.

On the main screen of the laboratory, a smooth, almost perfect curve finally stabilized.

low-temperature plasma bonding technology, in their hands, had reached an unprecedented height.

“It’s a success!”

Leo slammed his fist on the table, letting out an excited howl.

Even the usually calm Eva took off her goggles, a smile of relief gracing her face.

Marcus leaned against the reaction chamber's observation window, a rumbling laughter emanating from his massive body.

Doctor Hoffmann looked at the curve, and the light in his cloudy eyes rekindled.

It was the gleam of a creator seeing their work born.

“No.”

He suddenly spoke.

“It’s not enough yet.”