Chapter 65: A Sudden Headache

Listening to Peng Dongli's explanation, Zhang Mingyang did some quick calculations in his mind. With their current freight capacity, they could transport over 3.5 million tons of ore in a year. Each ton of ore could be refined into two hundred kilograms of 'Lunar Gold,' which meant an annual output of over seven hundred thousand tons of the metal.

A single, newest-generation "Energy" spacecraft had a total design weight of about two hundred thousand tons. Factoring in materials consumed, their yearly output would be sufficient to construct two ships.

Hearing Zhang Mingyang's calculations, Peng Dongli nodded, agreeing that the numbers sounded about right.

After they finished touring the rockets, Peng Dongli led Zhang Mingyang to a long, rectangular factory building. After a brief exchange with the guard at the door, the two were allowed inside.

The moment they entered, the thunderous sound of heavy forging machines filled their ears.

This was the raw material refinery. Everything here was automated and intelligent; not a single person could be seen in the vast hall. Peng Dongli had negotiated with the factory supervisor for quite some time before the two were allowed entry.

Zhang Mingyang moved closer to inspect the massive smelting machines, some towering over a dozen meters high on either side. As he approached, a terrifying wave of heat, enough to melt flesh, surged toward him in an instant.

Had it not been for Peng Dongli dragging him back in time, his skin would have been scorched away on the spot.

"Hey! Are you out of your mind, junior? That furnace is running at two hundred thousand degrees Celsius!"

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Zhang Mingyang felt as though he'd just narrowly escaped death.

"Senior, why is the temperature of this furnace so high?"

The two retreated to a safe distance as Peng Dongli explained, "The melting point of Lunar Gold is seventy thousand degrees Celsius. If the temperature doesn't reach this threshold, the ore won't even react."

Even as he finished speaking, the furnace in front of them opened. A stream of molten metal poured out and flowed into a mold nearby.

Once the molten metal had fully filled the mold, a robotic arm lifted it and placed it in a cooling chamber.

After cooling, the metal took shape and was then transferred to a blast furnace for impurity treatment.

When the impurities had been removed, the metal mold was repeatedly heated and hammered under a heavy press until the plate shrank to a third of its original size.

After quality processing, the finished metal was placed onto a testing apparatus to check if it met the forging standards.

Having witnessed the entire refining process for 'Lunar Gold Ore,' the two made their way to the finished goods warehouse.

Upon entering, they found themselves in a space of ten thousand square meters, more than half of which was piled high with finished 'Lunar Gold' metal.

Peng Dongli approached a stack, picked up a small piece of metal and weighed it in his hand. Then he pulled a measuring instrument from his backpack and tested its quality.

Seeing his senior busy at work, Zhang Mingyang decided not to disturb him and wandered around the warehouse.

Standing before a particular stack, he picked up a piece of metal and suddenly thought that if his design for a fusion reactor could utilize this metal, both its success rate and efficiency would increase exponentially.

"Once this project is over, I definitely have to borrow a few tons of this stuff from Grandpa Wang," he muttered to himself.

He put down the metal and continued to stroll about. Suddenly, a sharp, excruciating pain seized his head, as if countless insects were gnawing inside his skull.

The agony was so intense it brought Zhang Mingyang to his knees, crying out in pain. Peng Dongli, who was conducting tests nearby, heard his junior's cries and rushed over immediately.

When he reached Zhang Mingyang, he found him writhing on the ground, clutching his head and screaming in agony.

Alarmed, Peng Dongli quickly removed Zhang Mingyang's watch and activated the "Commander System" to run a scan of his brain.

"S...senior... my...head is going to explode!"

"Hang on, junior, I've activated the microbots," Peng Dongli said, trying to comfort him as sweat beaded on his forehead.

"Hurry... up... senior!"

Wiping his brow, Peng Dongli anxiously watched the system. Finally, the scan completed and the feedback came in: the microbots had examined Zhang Mingyang's brain and entire body and found nothing abnormal. The system reported that everything was normal.

This left Peng Dongli baffled. The microbot technology had undergone countless experiments; any anomaly would have triggered the system's automatic alert.

"Senior, is it... done yet? I'm dying here!"

Seeing the system display all clear, Peng Dongli suddenly didn't know what to do.

"Hang on, junior, I'll get help. Just hold on, I'm going to find someone."

With that, Peng Dongli stood up and prepared to run outside.

But at that moment, Zhang Mingyang, lying on the floor, suddenly felt the pain disappear.

"Wait, senior."

Peng Dongli, who had only taken a few steps, turned around and hurried back.

"Are you alright, junior?"

Zhang Mingyang shook his head, stood up, and looked at Peng Dongli in confusion.

"Senior, it seems like my headache is gone."

Hearing this, Peng Dongli let out a long sigh of relief. "You nearly scared me to death."

With that, he himself collapsed to the floor in exhaustion.

Startled, Zhang Mingyang hurried to help his senior up. "Senior, are you okay?"

Peng Dongli steadied himself and replied, "I'm fine, just got too anxious just now." He looked at Zhang Mingyang, carefully checking his head for wounds, but found none. This was strange—no outward injury, no internal damage according to the system—what was going on?

"Junior, what exactly happened to you just now?"

Zhang Mingyang recalled the intense pain. "I don't know. I was looking at the metal, and out of nowhere, the headache hit me. It felt like countless insects gnawing inside my skull. I thought I was going to die."

Listening to Zhang Mingyang's account, Peng Dongli pulled out his watch again and ran another scan with the "Commander System."

The results were the same: the microbots found nothing wrong.

Two scans and still no answer—could it be something else?

Zhang Mingyang looked at the test results himself and, seeing nothing amiss, felt somewhat reassured.

"Junior, the system hasn't found anything wrong. Maybe the microbots inside you have malfunctioned. I'll contact the company right away to run a remote diagnostic on your microbots."

Saying this, Peng Dongli stepped aside to call the company.

Meanwhile, Zhang Mingyang rubbed his head, worried that he might have developed brain cancer.

His cries of pain had not only drawn Peng Dongli, but also attracted the warehouse staff, who hurried over to investigate.

The moment they entered, they saw Zhang Mingyang and Peng Dongli. One of them anxiously asked, "Comrades, what was that shouting just now?"

Seeing his senior still on the phone, Zhang Mingyang answered himself, "It's nothing, comrade. A metal plate fell and hit my foot. The pain made me cry out."

"Oh," the staff member replied, and, seeing there was no real issue, reminded them to be careful and left the warehouse.