Chapter 131 Jia'an's Gas Cylinder Brings Warmth

In the depths of the underground bunker in the Middle East region.

The once dark and damp air-raid shelter had now been transformed into a bustling arms factory.

Although the equipment was crude, lacking even a decent assembly line, the atmosphere here was exceptionally solemn, even carrying a sense of religious devotion.

On the walls, a magnified, illustrated copy of the "jia an no. 1 Dangerous Operations and Modification Prohibition White Paper" was posted.

Every line of red-letter warnings on it was revered by the workers here as the gospel.

Hassan stood on a high vantage point, watching the busy crowd below, his eyes flashing with fanatical light.

"Move fast! But stay steady!"

Hassan shouted, "This is the 'gift' Mr. Li has bestowed upon us, codenamed Kitchen Revolution! Every step must be carried out strictly according to Mr. Li's reverse instructions! If anyone dares to ruin these treasures out of carelessness, I will stuff them into a canister and launch them out!"

"Yes!"

The response from below was deafening.

Meanwhile, in the designated work area, the technician who had studied abroad was holding a megaphone, giving on-site guidance to a group of workers responsible for welding.

"Pay attention to page three of the manual!"

The technician pointed at the diagrams on the wall and roared:

"Mr. Li made it very clear in the warnings! 'Strictly prohibit using the XX model high-temperature argon arc welding gun to perform circular surfacing on the diffusion port at the end of the valve'!"

"Do you all understand? It means you must use the XX model welding gun! You must perform circular surfacing! If anyone welds it crookedly, causing it to fail to form a de Laval nozzle structure, and the jet speed doesn't reach three times the speed of sound, that is a blasphemy against the truth!"

"Zzzzzz—"

The workers immediately put on their goggles, and the welding guns in their hands spat out blinding blue light.

They carefully deposited circles of precise metal patterns at the valve exhaust port. As the welding slag was chipped away, a perfect, converging-diverging metal nozzle was revealed.

This was the heart of a rocket engine—the de Laval nozzle.

Meanwhile, in the fuel workshop on the other side, the air was filled with a strange, sweet scent.

There was no acrid smell of gunpowder here; instead, it felt like cooking holiday candy.

Several huge military pots were set over fires, with thick, white, viscous liquid churning inside.

"The ratio! Watch the ratio!"

The officer in charge of mixing ingredients held a scale in his hand, his expression more tense than when defusing a bomb:

"Page ten of the manual, in bold red font! 'Strictly prohibit mixing potassium nitrate and sugar in a 7:3 mass ratio'!"

"Listen up! Not a single gram less! It must be 7 to 3! This is the golden combustion ratio calculated by Mr. Li! It is the equation to victory!"

The workers held large ladles, frantically stirring the mixture in the pots.

This primitive solid fuel, known as KNSU (sugar propellant), although simple in composition, could unleash astonishing thrust under specific ratios and combustion chamber pressures.

"Pour into the molds! Quick! Pour it in while it's hot!"

The thick white slurry was quickly injected into the pre-processed gas canisters.

At this moment, the hexagonal lattice structure on the inner wall of the gas canisters, originally meant for "explosion-proofing," played an unexpected role.

It acted like countless tiny hands, gripping the solidified fuel grain tightly, preventing it from detaching or cracking during the combustion process.

This was simply a tailor-made mold for solid fuel grains!

"Perfect... too perfect..."

The technician watched this scene, moved to tears, "Mr. Li even considered the wall-hanging strength of the fuel grain! Is this the foresight of a top-tier scientist?"

Three days later.

The first batch of five hundred converted super gas canisters were neatly stacked in the open space of the bunker.

They still retained their original, cute, chubby shape, but at the tail, the menacing de Laval nozzle silently declared their true identity.

Hassan walked up, reached out, and gently stroked the cold canister body.

As his fingertips traced the steel stamp imprinted with a cartoon bear and the words "jia an no. 1," a menacing and confident smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"This is our sharp sword."

He turned around and addressed the group of officers behind him, their eyes also glowing with greed, his voice impassioned:

"In the past, we could only use steel pipes to make those crude Qassam rockets; they were inaccurate, didn't fly far, had little power, and were mocked by the Israel people as oversized fireworks."

"But today! We are going to tell the whole world! The times have changed!"

Hassan slammed the gas canister beside him, producing a loud "clang":

"This is the Jia An rocket launcher! It is the crystallization of industry from the East! It has a body harder than tank armor! It has a thruster with three times the speed of sound! And it has a safety mechanism that will absolutely not detonate prematurely!"

"We will use it to knock on the enemy's door! To shatter their arrogance!"

"Jia An! Jia An! Jia An!"

The soldiers raised their rifles and shouted in unison, their voices echoing in the underground bunker, shaking dust down in showers.

Just at this moment of high excitement, an officer in charge of logistics suddenly raised his hand and asked weakly:

"Um... leader, how do we launch these?"

This question caused the scene to quiet down slightly.

"This thing is too thick; our old launchers can't fit it at all. Besides, it doesn't have tail fins—won't it tumble around when it flies out?"

Hassan, upon hearing this, revealed an inscrutable smile.

"Good question."

He pulled the "Dangerous Operations Manual," now dog-eared from being flipped through, from his bosom and turned to the last page.

"Did you think Mr. Li would overlook such a critical link? No, he had already thought it out for us."

Hassan pointed to the "Ultimate Warning" in the manual and read aloud:

"【Warning: Prohibited Items Regarding the Bottom Interface】"

"'Strictly prohibit welding or screwing any steel pipe longer than 1.5 meters onto the reserved threaded port at the bottom of the canister!'"

"'Explanation: This steel pipe will act like a tail fin, providing stability, causing the canister to maintain a straight trajectory during flight, hitting exactly where it is aimed! This will greatly increase the destruction range and accuracy of the accident!'"

After reading this passage, Hassan looked up, his eyes fanatical:

"Did you hear that? Hitting exactly where it's aimed! Accuracy!"

"Mr. Li is telling us that as long as we weld on a steel pipe, it becomes a tactical missile with its own stabilizer!"

"This is the simplest launcher! This is the most perfect tail fin!"

He slammed the manual shut and waved his hand:

"What are you still standing there for? Go and dismantle all the scaffolding steel pipes for me!"

"Weld them on! Just as Mr. Li said, 1.5 meters! Not a centimeter off!"

"Yes!"

The workers became busy again.

Blinding welding sparks flashed once more.

Thick steel pipes were firmly welded to the bottom of the gas canisters.

The originally chubby canisters instantly transformed into strange-looking objects that exuded a primitive, violent aesthetic—Big Hammers.

Looking at these "weapons of mass destruction" ready for deployment, Hassan took a deep breath and looked toward the distant Israel border, his eyes filled with murderous intent.

"Notify the artillery battalion to assemble immediately!"

"Tonight, we are going to send a bit of warmth from the East to our old friends on the other side!"