Before the noise from the manhole cover being lifted had even subsided, Carl had already reached down and dug around for a while, pulling out several sections of dark, hard cable. The outer sheath was as hard as a tree root, and it cracked when he tried to break it.
"Can this thing be burned?" He shook the object in his hand and waved it at Chen Hao.
Chen Hao frowned and took a closer look. "If you try to light it, you'll probably choke to death first."
Susan didn't say anything. She took the cable, rubbed it in her hand, broke off a small piece, chewed it a couple of times, and then immediately spat it out.
“It’s not pure plastic,” she said. “It contains fiberglass, which is heat-resistant. If you grind it into powder and mix it into the fuel, it might be able to be compressed more effectively.”
Nana stood beside her. The data terminal had just been turned on when the screen flashed, displaying a set of material parameters. "The melting point of the insulation layer is 230 degrees Celsius, and the structure of the residue after carbonization is stable. It is recommended to control the particle size of the crushed material to below 0.5 millimeters."
"I don't understand." Chen Hao waved his hand. "But you mean—this piece of leather is really usable?"
"We can try composite molding," Nana nodded.
That afternoon, a tin stove was set up at the entrance of the laboratory. Susan ground the dried fire vine stems into powder, mixed them with ground cable sheath, tried the ratio three times, and finally mixed them at a ratio of 1:1.2.
The first molding attempt failed, and the fuel rods broke in two when they came out of the furnace.
"The temperature isn't high enough," Susan said, staring at the stove opening. "The moisture hasn't been completely drained."
The second heating was increased to 180 degrees Celsius, and the pressing time was extended to five minutes. When it was taken out, the surface was shiny and it made a crisp sound when tapped.
“This one’s fine.” Carl picked it up and examined it. “It’s sturdier than the previous one.”
They couldn't wait for it to cool down and took it directly to the laser equipment for testing. There was barely any fuel left in the old fuel tank, enough for ignition. They inserted the new fuel rod into the combustion chamber and pressed the ignition switch.
Flames leaped up, yellowish-blue, and burned steadily.
But as soon as the laser head flashed red light, the flame suddenly flickered and then went out.
"Here we go again." Chen Hao plopped down on the box. "All that work for nothing."
Susan stared at the combustion chamber for a while. "Not enough oxygen. The fire is smoldering."
Nana pulled up the data: "The airflow is 37 percent too low. Incomplete combustion is causing an interruption in energy output."
"Then let's use the fan." Susan turned and went into the warehouse, where she found an old fan with a rusty casing, which could still turn on when plugged in.
She removed the front cover, attached a bent iron pipe to the combustion chamber intake, reinstalled the fuel rods, and reignited the fire.
This time the flames shot up high, turned white, and remained stable.
The laser beam shot out with a "hum" and hit the scrap steel plate, instantly burning through a round hole.
"It's done!" Carl jumped up, almost knocking over the fan.
Chen Hao grinned, "You're not making fuel, you're practically refining elixirs to become an immortal!"
"From now on, I'll call you 'Goddess of Fire'," he said, patting Susan on the shoulder.
Susan didn't laugh. She just looked down at the still-running machine and lightly touched the terminal screen with her finger. "The key is that it's working. We can continue digging the tunnel."
Before evening, they made six more fuel rods, all of which passed the ignition test. Nana recorded the entire process, breaking down each step and writing it on a whiteboard:
Raw material screening → Drying and dehydration → Crushing and mixing → Pressing and molding → Cooling and packaging
“One person can’t do it all,” she said. “We have to divide the work.”
The next morning, the four of them gathered around the lab bench to rearrange their tasks.
Chen Hao was responsible for gathering fire vines on the outskirts and collecting usable scraps along the way. Carrying a burlap sack, he muttered as he walked, "Am I becoming a scavenger?"
“You’re the raw materials supervisor,” Susan said, handing him a pair of gloves. “Don’t slack off.”
He was responsible for the maintenance and handling of the Karl tube equipment, and also kept watch over the furnace at night. He squatted next to the molding machine, adjusting the pressure valve, muttering to himself, "This thing is more precious than my life."
Susan personally oversaw the most crucial step—preparing the formula and monitoring the pressing process. She watched over the furnace every time it was opened, ensuring the temperature difference was no more than five degrees Celsius.
Nana monitored the data throughout the process, generating a quality report every two hours and immediately alerting people to adjustments if any deviations were found.
On the third day at noon, the first batch of standardized fuel rods was stacked into the storage shelf. Thirty-six rods were neatly arranged, with smooth surfaces and uniform dimensions.
After counting them one by one, Chen Hao let out a long sigh of relief: "At this rate, three days will be enough for one round."
He looked up toward the tunnel and said, "We're one step closer to getting through."
That night, he lay on a folding chair outside the lab, munching on compressed biscuits. Carl was checking the connection to the blower, tightening the last screw.
“I’ll make another trip to the industrial zone tomorrow,” he said. “There are a few abandoned electrical boxes there, and the copper wires are also covered with this kind of insulation. There’s a lot of them.”
"Don't bury yourself in there," Chen Hao said, chewing on a biscuit. "Last time, I almost got hit on the head by a collapsing wall."
“Then don’t sleep here.” Carl glanced at him. “You wouldn’t even know if a mouse crawled on your face in the middle of the night.”
Susan came out of the room, holding a new batch of sample record sheets. She sat down in the chair next to Chen Hao and spread out the sheets.
"The calorific value of today's batch has increased by 15 percent," she said. "If we can shorten the drying time by another 10 minutes, the output can be increased even further."
"How did you do that?" Chen Hao asked.
“We changed the sieve.” She pointed to the lab bench. “We used wire mesh before, but the holes were too big. Now we use metal filter sheets, which make the powder finer and more compact.”
"It sounds like cooking," Chen Hao said. "Changing the spatula makes all the difference in taste."
"Pretty much," Susan nodded. "It's just that this 'dish' can't be burnt."
Nana suddenly spoke up: "An abnormal cooling rate was detected in the seventh batch of fuel rods. We recommend delaying the sealing process."
"Where did things go wrong?" Carl stood up.
“The sixth and ninth bars have a higher density, which may be due to fluctuations in the pressure.” Nana pointed to the chart. “I suggest adjusting the preset values of the hydraulic valves in the next round.”
Susan got up and walked into the house. "I'll go take a look."
Chen Hao stood up and casually tossed the empty cookie bag into the bin. He walked to the lab bench and saw Susan opening the side cover of the molding machine and reaching inside to touch the piston rod.
"Don't you get tired of doing this every day?" he asked.
“It’s annoying,” she said, “but it’s even more annoying not to do it.”
"If I were you, I would have given up long ago."
“You’ll starve to death,” she said, unscrewing a screw. “And you’re eating my cooking right now.”
Chen Hao rubbed his stomach. "You're right, I should be grateful."
Carl shouted from outside, "The fan is stuck again!"
Susan didn't even look up. "Clean the filter."
"It still won't turn on after I've finished cleaning it."
“The voltage is unstable,” Nana said. “The generator output fluctuations exceed the allowable range.”
"Then let's fix the generator," Chen Hao sighed. "When will this ever end?"
“Once we dig it out,” Susan said, putting the parts back in and patting the machine’s casing. “Then we’ll forget about it.”
On the morning of the fourth day, as soon as the sun shone on the roof of the workers' shed, Chen Hao was already out carrying a sack. He avoided the path he had taken the day before and headed north towards a wasteland.
There grew large patches of withered, yellow fire vines, their stems thick and their bark glistening with a waxy sheen.
He squatted down, pulled one off, and snapped it with a sharp snap, making a crisp sound.
"This quality is not bad," he muttered to himself. "I'll make Susan happy when I get back."
Back at base, Susan was pressing the second batch of fuel. The machine hummed as fuel rods slid out of the outlet one by one.
"How many can we make today?" Chen Hao put the sack on the ground.
"At the current rate, fifty units should be no problem," she said, "provided the generator doesn't fail again."
"Where is Karl?"
"I took it to get the oil changed because they said the filter was clogged."
Chen Hao walked over to the generator and saw Karl lying on the ground disassembling the casing. He handed him a bottle of new engine oil.
"Use it sparingly." Carl took the bottle. "This is the last one."
"Let's check if we have any spares," Chen Hao said.
"Do you think this is a supermarket?" Carl unscrewed the oil filler cap. "You can restock whenever you want."
By noon, the production of fuel rods had exceeded fifty. The storage shelves were completely full.
Nana updated the inventory data, showing that the current reserves can support seven rounds of continuous operation of the laser equipment, each round lasting fifteen minutes.
"Enough to clear a forty-meter section," she said.
"The premise is that the tunnel doesn't collapse." Chen Hao leaned against the wall. "We also have to get through before the rocks fall down."
Susan didn't reply, but simply removed the last fuel rod and placed it on the cooling platform. She picked up her notebook and wrote down the number in the "Yield" column: 97%.
"Starting tomorrow, we'll work two shifts a day," she said. "I'll try to make a hundred a day."
"Who's going to sell to you?" Chen Hao asked.
“Let’s take turns,” she said. “I can’t be the only one working myself to death.”
“If you die, we’ll all starve,” Chen Hao said. “You’re our Goddess of Fire.”
Carl walked in from outside, carrying a rusty metal box.
"Guess what I found under the wrecked car?" He put the box on the ground. "A sealed oil can, half full, the label still on."
"Really?" Chen Hao leaned closer to look.
“Model matches.” Nana scanned the data. “Availability 82%.”
"The generator is saved." Carl grinned.
Susan glanced at the time. "While it's still light, let's seal this batch of fuel away."
The four of them got to work. Chen Hao moved the boxes, Carl labeled them, Nana entered the numbers, and Susan checked the surface of each fuel rod for damage.
By the time the last one was placed on the storage shelf, the sky was already beginning to darken.
Chen Hao wiped his sweat. "Today was pretty good."
Susan nodded, about to speak, when the molding machine suddenly made a strange noise.
She turned around and walked quickly over, opened the control panel, and found that all the indicator lights were off.
"The power is out," she said.
Chen Hao looked up in the direction of the generator, "Karl! The generator has stopped again!"
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