Carl stared at the notification in the corner of the screen, his brows furrowed.

The backup power supply is under abnormal load, and the voltage in the right cabin piping is fluctuating.

“See?” He pointed to the line of text. “At least with the old system, you could spot the problem at a glance. But with a bunch of new gadgets, the fault will be hidden in the code, and by the time you discover it, it’ll be long gone.”

Nana stood in front of the information screen, and the light module flashed. "This is precisely the frequent false alarms caused by the aging of the old equipment, indicating that the monitoring logic needs to be upgraded, rather than continuing to rely on manual experience for troubleshooting."

“What’s wrong with manual labor?” Carl turned around. “I’ve repaired seventeen ships, and not a single one of them came back alive thanks to any automated analysis. Touching the circuits and listening to the current—when has it ever been inaccurate?”

“But the efficiency is too low.” Nana pulled up a set of data: “Traditional detection takes an average of 43 minutes, while the new sensor array can locate abnormal nodes within 7 seconds and provide repair suggestions.”

“A suggestion?” Karl sneered. “By the time it finishes making its suggestion, we’ll have been electrocuted to a crisp.”

Susan sat by the filing cabinet, her pen resting on her notebook. She looked up at the two of them, then looked down at the list of materials she had just written.

Chen Hao leaned against the control panel, still clutching the marker pen in his hand. He didn't speak, but first walked to the printer, tore off the supply list, folded it neatly, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he turned to face them.

“You both have a point,” he said.

Susan rolled her eyes.

"Don't be so quick to turn hostile." Chen Hao grinned. "I know that sounds like trying to smooth things over. But I've thought about it carefully—why do we have to choose between two options?"

All three of them looked at him.

“What I mean is,” Chen Hao tapped the control panel, “can we try both methods? One is to make traditional equipment, and the other is to develop new processes. In the end, we’ll use whichever works better.”

Carl frowned. "A waste of time."

“It’s better than something going wrong on the road.” Chen Hao shrugged. “You’re worried that new technology is unreliable, and she’s worried that old methods will hold her back. Let the results speak for themselves. When they’re made and compared, the one that’s sturdy, lightweight, and uses less material wins.”

Nana nodded slightly. "That's feasible. I can generate comparative test standards, including nine basic indicators such as pressure resistance, temperature range, and energy consumption performance."

“I’m not against testing,” Carl said, crossing his arms, “but we can’t let her use all the resources for such trivial things.”

“I didn’t intend to monopolize it either.” Nana pulled up the inventory distribution map. “There are three high-toughness alloy plates left, and the energy-powered welding machine can be used for six hours a day. If we plan to operate two groups in parallel, I suggest a 50/50 allocation ratio.”

“I disagree,” Carl said immediately. “The innovation team uses unproven processes, and if they fail, it’s just a waste of electricity. I, on the other hand, produce a real, tangible product.”

"So you're planning to do it all by yourself?" Chen Hao asked.

"At least it's more reliable than trying things blindly."

“Okay.” Chen Hao made the decision. “Since we can’t reach a conclusion, we’ll have to take turns using the equipment. You can use it for two hours during the day, she can use it for two hours in the afternoon, and then we’ll switch at night. Whoever exceeds the time limit will have their electricity quota deducted.”

No one responded.

Susan stood up and walked between the two. "I'll keep track of the working hours and supplies," she said. "Each group will record the usage daily and post it publicly on the wall. We'll see who used even a single extra gram of material."

Carl glanced at her, then at Chen Hao, and finally snorted. "Fine. But I have one condition—the product must be repairable on-site. No matter how advanced it is, if it's broken and can't be fixed, it's useless."

Nana responded: "The new composite material has self-healing properties and only requires activation by a specific wavelength of light source."

“That means we’ll have to bring extra equipment.” Carl shook his head. “It’s a burden.”

“We do need an auxiliary light source right now,” Nana admitted, “but it’s only about half the size of a battery and weighs 120 grams.”

"That's still too much."

"But it can extend the life of a structure by 40 percent."

"But once it breaks, the whole piece of material is ruined."

“So it’s included in the test list.” Chen Hao interrupted. “You guys make a list now, write down all the points of contention. For example, ‘Can it be repaired in the field?’ ‘Stability in extreme environments’ ‘Emergency response plan for sudden damage’. We’ll test them one by one.”

Nana immediately opened the newly created document.

Carl took a pen from the tool rack and wrote a few points on a piece of paper. He handed it over. "And this—weld strength. I don't understand your adhesive; it's better to just weld it solid."

"The tensile strength of the nano-adhesive is 1.8 times that of the weld point." Nana took the paper and added, "But we need to test its fatigue performance under long-term vibration."

"Then let's test it."

The atmosphere relaxed a bit.

Chen Hao glanced at the clock on the wall; it was almost nine o'clock. He reached out and printed out the schedule, then posted it on the bulletin board. The workshop on the east side was labeled "Traditional Group," and the experimental area next to the control panel was labeled "Innovation Group."

"Work will begin at eight o'clock tomorrow morning," he said. "Whoever is late will have the right to use the equipment for the rest of the day."

Susan took the materials list and headed towards the warehouse. "I'm going to take stock of the available materials and see if there are any shared parts."

Karl stood up as well. "I had a batch of heat-resistant ceramics saved up, but I haven't touched them yet."

“Perfect timing.” Susan turned around. “There’s an insulation layer in Nana’s design that can use that material.”

Karl paused for a moment. "...Okay. As long as it's not wasteful, it can be used."

The three of them walked towards the warehouse together.

Chen Hao lagged behind, casually picked up a teacup from the table, and took a sip of the cold tea. He looked up at the ceiling light, which was steadily burning.

A few minutes later, Susan came out carrying a stack of metal plates.

“Three alloy plates have been confirmed, one of which has a slight scratch and is recommended for use on the test piece first,” she reported. “Twelve ceramic blocks are intact. There is half a bucket of insulating resin left, enough for both sides.”

Karl checked the status of the forging furnace and turned on the heating switch. The red light slowly brightened.

Nana debugged the power supply line in the experimental area and connected it to the small synthesis platform. A message popped up on the screen: "System startup complete."

Chen Hao stood in the middle, watching the busy activity on both sides.

"Oh, right." He suddenly remembered something and pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket. "These are some sensors we collected when we dismantled the lifeboats, but we haven't used them. Do you want to install them on the test pieces? They'll transmit data in real time for easy comparison."

Nana took it and glanced at it. "Useful. It can increase the accuracy of dynamic feedback."

Carl glanced at it. "I'll install an old-fashioned mechanical pressure gauge too. Double insurance."

"Whatever."

Susan divided the materials into two piles and labeled them with numbers. She drew a table in her notebook and wrote the first line of the record:

Date: Today;

Traditional group receives: one alloy plate, four ceramic pieces, and ten welding rods;

The innovation team will receive: one alloy plate, three ceramic sheets, and two liters of resin.

"We'll check the consumption figures at the same time tomorrow," she said.

No one objected.

At 11 p.m., the workshop lights were still on.

Chen Hao yawned and sat back down at the control panel. He opened the Supplies List V1.0, scrolled to the bottom, and added a new note:

[Equipment manufacturing method: Under dual-track parallel testing. Results undetermined.]

He closed the page and leaned back in his chair.

Nana stood in the experimental area, placing an alloy plate into the synthesis tank. A flash of blue light appeared, and the edges began to slowly recombine their molecular structure.

Karl picked up a hammer in the east workshop and began to shape another board by hand. The rhythmic clanging of metal echoed.

Susan sat at the table, checking the dimensions of the parts against the blueprints. She measured one section with the ruler, then moved on to the next.

The schedule hung quietly on the wall. In the first day's section, two names were written side by side: Karl and Nana.

Chen Hao stared at the table for a while, then suddenly chuckled.

He took out his phone and sent a message to the two of them:

Don't forget to check in tomorrow morning. Anyone late will have to drink energy paste for the whole team.

No one replied.

But he knew they would all show up on time tomorrow.

After all, nobody wants to lose.

Susan closed her notebook and got up to close the warehouse door. As she passed the lab bench, she noticed Nana adjusting the light source parameters.

"You mean that self-healing function?" she asked. "Can it really work at minus forty degrees Celsius?"

“Theoretically, it’s possible,” Nana said, “but it needs to be verified.”

“Then let’s add this item.” Susan took out a pen and added a line to the test list.

Carl heard this and shouted from the other side, "Don't just measure the low temperature, you also need to measure whether it can be repaired after being smashed!"

"It has been included in the impact testing program."

"I hope it can really be fixed."

He picked up the newly formed frame and bent it forcefully. It didn't deform.

He nodded in satisfaction.

Chen Hao watched all this and thought to himself that this battle was quite exciting.

But at least, people are finally getting moving.

He stood up, ready to go to sleep.

I had just reached the door when I suddenly stopped.

"Hey," he turned around and asked, "what are these test pieces we made called...?"

No one answered.

"We can't keep calling it 'Sample No. 1' and 'Sample No. 2', can we?"

Susan thought for a moment. "How about we just use numbers?"

"Boring."

Nana said, "It can be named 'Explorer Prototype Armor'."

Karl scoffed. "Too flashy."

"Then you choose one?"

"Let's call it Iron Shell."

"Too rustic."

"As long as it's practical, that's fine."

Chen Hao waved his hand. "Forget it, let's wait until it's finished. Anyway, it's only a semi-finished product right now."

He pushed open the door and went out.

Behind them, under the lights, two figures were busy with their own tasks.

One was hammering metal, the other was debugging a program.

The sounds of machines running mingled together.