Chapter 145 Developing a New Toy Overnight: This Phone Case Can Protect Against Bullets

"Clang!"

The pitch-black lump of material slammed heavily onto the glass surface.

The thick, explosion-proof glass coffee table hummed from the impact.

Xia Weiliang was barefoot.

The black ash stuck to the soles of her feet smeared directly onto Shen Qingqiu's newly replaced wool carpet, leaving a trail of glaring black footprints.

Chu Xuan jumped in fright, his leg muscles cramping up sharply.

He quickly dug a crumpled wad of tissue out of his floral shirt pocket and frantically wiped the greasy sweat from his face.

"Sister Weiliang, are you crazy?"

Chu Xuan swallowed dryly. "Why are you smashing our coffee table with a piece of coal slag? This glass cost tens of thousands!"

"Coal your head."

Xia Weiliang rolled her eyes dramatically, her bird's nest of hair shaking.

She bit down on the unfinished candy in her mouth with a loud, crunchy snap.

"This is industrial waste discharged during the purification of holographic superconducting materials."

Lu Jingming sat in his executive chair.

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on the black lump.

"Polymer residue."

Xia Weiliang kicked the coffee table leg with her toe. "It's mixed with waste lattice of carbon nanotubes."

"Its ductility and toughness are off the charts. The waste can't be degraded, so it's just taking up space in the lab."

Lu Jingming reached out and took the black lump.

It felt ice-cold to the touch, with a slightly matte, rough texture on the surface.

He pinched the edge with two fingers, veins popping on the back of his hand as he applied sudden force.

The black lump didn't deform in the slightest.

Lu Jingming raised an eyebrow.

He pulled a green plastic lighter from his pants pocket with his right hand.

Pressing his thumb against the flint wheel, he clicked it open to reveal a deep blue flame.

He held the flame directly against the bottom of the black lump.

He burned it for a full half-minute.

No black smoke appeared, and not even a hint of scorched plastic smell drifted out.

When he pulled the flame away and touched it, the surface wasn't even warm.

"This thing is interesting."

Lu Jingming casually snapped the lighter shut, the plastic casing making a crisp sound.

Chu Xuan leaned in from the side, his neck stretched out long.

"Boss Lu, what can this waste residue do? It's pretty handy as a brick to hit people with, though."

Lu Jingming curled the corner of his mouth, revealing half of his sharp, white canine tooth.

"Don't the keyboard warriors online think that me yawning means I have nothing better to do?"

He tossed the black lump back onto the table with a dull thud.

"Then let's make a little toy to open their eyes."

Three hours later.

Basement level three of Xinghai Technology, core hardware laboratory.

The air cooler was huffing out white mist.

A small industrial molding machine was emitting a low rumble.

Lu Jingming had his hands in the pockets of his faded jeans, watching the black phone cases being spat out on the conveyor belt.

The design was minimalist, without even a single unnecessary pattern.

Chu Xuan was wearing his blue, yellow-flowered shirt.

He picked up a fresh phone case and brought it to his eyes to examine it.

"Boss Lu, we are a trillion-dollar tech giant, after all."

Chu Xuan's throat felt dry. "Opening a mold overnight just to make a phone case? If this gets out, won't people laugh their heads off?"

"Laugh?"

Lu Jingming gave a cold snort. "Go turn on that hydraulic press."

Chu Xuan swallowed dryly and trotted over to the corner.

He placed the black phone case on a solid steel plate and reached out to pull the control lever of the hydraulic press.

The heavy hydraulic piston descended slowly with a teeth-grinding sound of mechanical friction.

"Bang."

The hydraulic piston pressed down hard onto the phone case.

Chu Xuan stared at the pressure reading on the console.

Ten tons.

Fifty tons.

One hundred tons.

"Creak—"

The steel plate at the bottom of the hydraulic press couldn't withstand this abnormal pressure.

It let out a piercing metallic scream, visibly denting downward.

"Stop," Lu Jingming said.

Chu Xuan pushed the lever up with trembling hands.

The hydraulic piston rose.

He leaned in to look, and his eyeballs bulged out.

Bloodshot veins instantly covered the whites of his eyes.

On the solid steel plate underneath, a shallow, phone-case-shaped dent had been forcibly pressed into it.

And that black phone case didn't even have a single white crease left on it.

"Holy crap!"

Chu Xuan's leg cramped up, and he collapsed against the console.

He frantically wiped the waterfall of greasy sweat from his forehead.

"Is this really a phone case? This is good enough to be bulletproof armor for a tank!"

Lu Jingming walked over, picked up the phone case, and weighed it in his hand.

"The toughness is sufficient, but we still need to test the hardness."

He turned his head. "Go get Old Zhou from the security department's nail gun."

Five minutes later.

Old Zhou, wrapped in a military overcoat, ran into the lab carrying a decommissioned industrial nail gun.

His dentures were still chattering.

"Boss Lu, this thing is powerful. It can drive a steel nail straight through a three-centimeter-thick iron plate!"

Old Zhou handed over the gun, his palms sweating profusely.

Lu Jingming took it.

He propped the phone case up in front of a sandbag.

He held the nail gun with one hand, not even wearing safety goggles.

The muzzle was pointed directly at the phone case from half a meter away.

He pressed his thumb on the trigger and pulled it without hesitation.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

Three shots in a row.

The deafening sound of metal clashing exploded in the basement.

Blinding sparks flew everywhere, landing on the anti-static floor and burning a few small black spots.

Chu Xuan hugged his head in fear and crouched on the floor.

Old Zhou shrank back, his dentures nearly flying out again.

The gunfire stopped.

The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder.

Lu Jingming casually tossed the nail gun onto the workbench.

He walked over and kicked the floor twice.

Three thick steel nails fell to the ground.

The tips of the nails were completely blunted, and the entire bodies of the nails were twisted into pretzels.

And that black phone case? Its surface only had three inconspicuous, pale white indentations; the skin wasn't even broken.

"Alright. It can be sold."

Lu Jingming brushed the dust off his hands, his voice listless and without a trace of inflection.

Chu Xuan stood up, holding onto the table leg.

His legs were still shaking.

"Boss Lu, even though the cost of this thing is waste, the processing fees are there."

Chu Xuan swallowed hard. "For a bulletproof-grade case like this, how much are we selling it for? Nine hundred ninety-nine?"

Lu Jingming pulled out his lighter with his right hand.

With a "click," the flame sprang up.

The deep blue light reflected the unreasonable arrogance in his eyes.

"Nineteen point nine."

Lu Jingming snapped the lighter shut. "Free shipping."

Chu Xuan's vision went black; he almost went into shock on the spot.

Nineteen point nine?

That's not even enough to cover the courier fees for the SF Express guy!

Even when making friends, you don't cut your own flesh like this!

Three days later.

This batch of phone cases, named "Xinghai Armor," was quietly listed on the Xinghai official website.

There was no publicity whatsoever.

On Twitter, foreign tech media outlets were still churning out endless hit pieces, mocking Xinghai Technology for running out of ideas.

Texas, USA.

In an open-air gun club, under the scorching sun, a burly white gun blogger stood at the firing line, drenched in sweat.

He held a black phone case in his hand.

It was the "Xinghai Armor" he had paid a high price to have shipped over from China.

"Guys! Look at this piece of junk plastic in my hand that cost nineteen point nine!"

The blogger laughed unscrupulously at the camera lens set up beside him.

"That Chinese guy who only knows how to yawn has actually started selling street-market garbage!"

He fixed the phone case onto a human-shaped target fifty meters away.

He turned around and grabbed a Glock 19 pistol from the table. 9mm caliber.

"Today, I'll show you how Chinese trash gets pulverized!"

The blogger racked the slide, chambering a round.

He raised the pistol and aimed at the black phone case.

He pulled the trigger hard.

"Bang!"

A dull gunshot tore through the air of the shooting range.

A burst of blinding sparks exploded on the target in the distance.

The blogger blew the smoke from the muzzle.

Grinning, he strode toward the human-shaped target, ready to pick up the plastic fragments.

When he reached the target, the smile on his face instantly froze.

His face trembled as if he had seen a ghost.

The black phone case was hanging on the target, completely intact.

There was only a shallow, pale white dent in the middle.

And in the sandy soil beneath the target lay a brass bullet head that had been flattened.

The blogger's breath hitched instantly.

He gasped sharply, his heavy, ragged breathing sounding like a saw in his throat.

He reached out to touch the case, his fingers trembling uncontrollably.

The bloodshot veins in his eyes exploded instantly like a spider web.

He turned his head sharply, staring fixedly at the camera lens.

The veins on his neck popped out, and his voice cracked completely.

"F*ck! Is this Chinese phone case made of Kevlar armor?!"