11: Chapter 011 High-Tech in a Rough Rental Room

Days flew by in busyness and focus; Lin Mo's rented room had completely changed.

Boxes of instant noodles and empty water bottles were piled in the corner, while in the center of the room, that rickety old desk had been transformed into a "workbench" full of contradictions. A micro-precision lathe was firmly fixed in one corner, with various files, sandpaper, vernier calipers, and special tools Lin Mo had exchanged with points scattered beside it. Several sealed boxes contained expensive high-temperature resistant ceramics and Tantalum-Tungsten Alloy materials, sorted by type.

There was no dust-free workshop, no constant temperature and humidity environment—only a window often kept open for ventilation and a small fire extinguisher specifically bought for safety.

"Ruined again..." Lin Mo looked at the ceramic component stuck in the lathe chuck, which had developed fine cracks due to slightly excessive force, and sighed, his forehead covered in fine beads of sweat. This was already the fifth "Plasma Generator" Ceramic Chamber he had tried to process.

The blueprints provided by the system were accurate to the micron, but between theory and reality lay a chasm called "craftsmanship." He had no CNC equipment and relied entirely on manual operation of this precision lathe, which demanded extreme finger stability and eyesight. Every cut felt like walking a tightrope.

He didn't lose heart, sweeping the scraps into a nearby recycling box—these materials were too expensive; he couldn't bear to throw away even the waste, thinking they might be melted and recast later. Then, taking a deep breath, he picked up a new ceramic rod, fixed it, aligned the tool, and started the lathe.

The low hum sounded again. Lin Mo's gaze was terrifyingly focused, all his concentration condensed on his fingertips and the rotating ceramic rod. Adjusting the feed rate, controlling the speed, feeling the subtle feedback as the tool touched the material... He was merging the theoretical knowledge instilled by the system with his manual muscle memory at an astonishing speed.

Failure, adjustment, failure again, adjustment again.

Finally, on the seventh attempt, a micro-Ceramic Chamber with smooth inner walls and dimensions perfectly matching the blueprints appeared intact in his hands. Under the light, it shimmered with a gentle luster, like an exquisite work of art.

"It's done!" Lin Mo could hardly hide his excitement as he carefully placed this core component onto a specially made bracket.

This was only the beginning. The subsequent "Electrostatic Grid" was even more difficult. He needed to weave and weld Tantalum-Tungsten Alloy wires, thinner than a strand of hair, into a multi-layered mesh structure according to specific spacing and layers. This task was the ultimate test of patience and eyesight.

He made a simple macro magnifying glass stand and used tweezers to carefully pick up the fine wires, operating on a temporary micro-welding station. When sweat blurred his vision, he wiped it away and started again; when his fingers grew sore and stiff from maintaining one position for a long time, he stretched them and continued.

Time seemed to lose meaning in this room. Day and night cycled outside the window, yet Lin Mo was completely immersed in the world of creation. He gnawed on bread when hungry and napped on the desk when tired. The system's tasks were like a whip driving him forward, while the sense of accomplishment from turning blueprints into reality with his own hands was his best stimulant.

A few days later, when the last grid layer was perfectly welded and fixed, seamlessly assembled with the Ceramic Chamber, and connected to the "Portable High-Energy Capacitor Array"—which he had exchanged with points and looked like a metal lunchbox—a silver-gray metal-ceramic composite, about fifteen centimeters long and five centimeters in diameter, lay quietly in the center of the workbench.

It looked unremarkable, even a bit crude, a far cry from the sleek thrusters seen in sci-fi movies. But Lin Mo knew it embodied his countless efforts and a technological core far beyond this era.

He took a deep breath, connected the control circuit modified from an old computer power supply, and then placed his finger on the homemade switch.

There was no stirring music, no witnesses. In this simple rented room filled with the smell of instant noodles and metal shavings, Lin Mo's gaze was sharp as a blade as he gently pressed the switch.

The capacitor array began to emit a faint "sizzle" of charging, and the indicator light turned from green to red.

Whether it would succeed would be revealed in the next moment.