The man spun around, his eyes locking onto Jax with a fiery glare.
"Excuse me? Did you just say my design is riddled with flaws?"
Jax glanced calmly at the blueprint for the Penetrator Ballista spread out on the table and nodded. "That's right. One look at this draft for the Penetrator Ballista is enough to tell it won't even start up. The drive mechanism is fundamentally unsound, and the firing assembly? The connecting rods are completely misaligned. It’s a mess."
Jax had intended to offer a few corrections. He wanted to test if his own ability to analyze blueprints held up in practice. "I can help you modify the faulty components if you like."
Dr. Aris stood frozen, his mouth slightly ajar. He wanted to lash out, to interrupt, but Jax had listed the specific problem areas with such casual precision that a wave of astonishment momentarily silenced him.
Could this kid actually read engineering schematics?
Aris scrutinized Jax. Impossible. This was the Apocalypse. A brat his age wouldn't have stepped foot in a classroom, let alone an engineering academy. How could he possibly decipher a military-grade blueprint?
Aris shook his head, physically discarding the absurd notion.
"Hmph. Just another little swindler trying to bluff his way into a meal ticket," Aris sneered. "I see your type every year. You eye the benefits of the Defense Tower and think you can talk your way in. But let me tell you, only those with true talent survive here. Someone of your age... I doubt you’ve had more than a few years of schooling, if that."
Jax offered a faint, indifferent smile. The body he now inhabited indeed hadn't received much formal education. The disaster had struck shortly after his birth. Schools had closed indefinitely as society collapsed. Rumor had it that only the ultra-wealthy in the survivor strongholds could afford private tutors; for everyone else, knowledge was an unaffordable luxury.
Civilization had fractured. The cultural transmission had snapped, leaving the common people in ignorance. The older generation held onto fragments of the old world's science, but it was unsystematic, and much of it no longer applied to the physics of this new, mutated reality.
Jax didn't bother to argue. He simply shrugged. "Fine. If you’re unwilling to listen, forget it. My time is limited. If you’re done here, hand over the work so I can leave."
Seeing Jax’s dismissive attitude, Dr. Aris felt his face heat up. The sheer arrogance!
"You don't have time? A slum rat like you?" Aris’s voice rose an octave. "I’m giving you face just by standing here listening to your nonsense, yet you’re refusing a toast only to drink a forfeit! Do not mistake my patience for weakness."
Jax remained impassive in the face of the man’s rage. "Then I won't waste any more of your precious time. Goodbye."
Without waiting for a dismissal, Jax turned and walked out. He had endured enough contempt for one day. There was no point staying to be insulted.
Aris didn’t try to stop him. He watched Jax disappear down the corridor, then collapsed into his chair, fuming. He fished a cigarette from his pocket, his hands trembling slightly.
As the smoke filled his lungs, his heart rate slowly began to normalize. The pressure recently had been suffocating. With the Black Rain falling and the Insect Swarm approaching, the weight on the R&D department was crushing.
They had to contribute. If they failed to produce a viable defense against the swarm, they would be discarded. For Aris, dismissal wasn't just a career setback; it would be the end of his life as he knew it. He couldn't fail. He couldn't afford to. That fear drove him to work sixteen-hour days, fueled by sheer willpower and nicotine.
He crushed the cigarette butt into the ashtray—the very one sitting on the desk Jax had leaned against.
With the ember extinguished, Aris’s eyes drifted back to the blueprint of the Penetrator Ballista.
"That kid... claiming it's full of problems," Aris muttered, tracing the lines on the paper. "He was bluffing. It would be a miracle if he understood even the legend."
He handled the paper gently, stroking the schematic as if it were a lover's face. This was the fruit of half a month of grueling labor, the collective effort of his entire team. Once this Penetrator Ballista was built, the spider monsters would no longer be a nightmare. Even though it was only a Tier 2 tower, its armor-piercing bolts were designed specifically to punch through the arachnids' hardened carapaces.
Aris pored over the design for a long time. He found nothing wrong.
Reassured, he carefully rolled up the blueprint and headed outside to the construction site.
In the center of the yard stood a five-meter-tall steel skeleton—the prototype of the Penetrator Ballista. It was currently just a frame, waiting for the internal mechanisms to be installed.
Just as Aris arrived, a chaotic drumbeat of footsteps approached. A dozen workers came running from the fabrication shop, lugging various heavy components toward the tower frame. They didn't look happy.
"Boss, are we seriously supposed to assemble this?" one worker shouted to the foreman. "These parts are all wrong! Look at this alloy—after processing it to these specs, it's brittle as glass. It’ll shatter the moment the engine revs!"
"Yeah, look at this linkage rod!" another chimed in, holding up a thin metal bar. "It’s too thin! It can’t take that kind of torque. And the transmission gears don't even mesh. The alignment is completely off!"
"I checked the power unit, too," a third voice added. "It’s a disaster. We’ve tried to fit it three times. It won’t even slot in!"
The complaints grew louder, merging into a chorus of frustration.
"This is absolute garbage! Who designed this crap? Is their brain made of mush? We’re busting our asses working overtime to make this, and when it fails, the blame is going to land on us!"
"Foreman, give us a straight answer! Do we keep making this trash? If we install this, it's just going to need reworking in an hour!"
The foreman wiped sweat from his forehead, looking helpless. The schedule was brutally tight. He had verified that every part was machined exactly to the blueprint's specifications. Whether it worked or not wasn't his call; he just needed to finish the job so they could run the tests.
Suddenly, the foreman spotted a figure approaching. He saw the dark, thunderous expression on Dr. Aris’s face.
"Hey! What are you all doing?" the foreman barked, glaring at his crew. "We do what the higher-ups tell us to do! Cut the crap and get to work! Shut your mouths!"
A young, new employee near the back didn't catch the signal. He muttered, loud enough to be heard, "But it is garbage. Why cover for them? It’s just some blueprint designer. If they gave us the raw materials, we could build something better ourselves."
The words hung in the air just as Dr. Aris stepped into the circle.
The foreman’s face drained of color. "Chief Designer... Dr. Aris! I-I’m so sorry. These guys, they don't have a filter. Please, don't lower yourself to their level."
Dr. Aris ignored the foreman entirely. He walked straight up to the young worker, his eyes cold behind his glasses.
"What did you just say?" Aris hissed. "You said my design is garbage? You said you could do better? Good. If that’s the case, perhaps I should hand over my position to you?"
The young worker, fueled by the frustration of impossible labor, didn't back down. "I'm telling the truth. It is garbage. We can't even assemble it, let alone fire it."
"Enough! Shut up!" the foreman roared, panic rising in his voice. He felt like his own skin was about to be flayed alive for this insubordination.
"Good. Very good," Aris laughed, a brittle, dangerous sound. "I never imagined a bunch of lowly manual laborers would dare question my expertise. It seems we’ve been feeding you too well."
Trembling with rage, Dr. Aris spun to face the R&D Center’s site manager, who had rushed over to mediate.
"You heard them," Aris spat. "They have the ability to produce it themselves. My blueprints are clearly unnecessary. Leave it to them. I’m going back to report this to the administration!"
The manager panicked, stepping in front of Aris to block his path. "No, no, Dr. Aris! Please, let’s talk this over! I’ll discipline them. I’ll make them regret it. Just don't be angry!"
"Not angry? How can I not be angry?!" Aris screamed, pointing a shaking finger at the workers. "Do you have any idea how much blood and sweat went into that blueprint? And they have the audacity to say they can do it better? They’re looking down on me! I have designed countless Defense Towers, yet now I’m being lectured by a pack of grease-monkeys!"
Aris straightened his coat, his eyes burning with an ultimatum.
"If you don't give me a satisfactory explanation today, I quit! I’m done. In this place, it’s either me or them. You choose!"
Leaving the manager stunned and pale, Dr. Aris turned on his heel and stormed away.