This was especially challenging for Cha Ming, who not only had to work to improve the project, but also sabotage it. Each individual part needed to function as planned, and every combination, save the final assembly, needed to work well together. It was a puzzle, and despite the many years that had passed since his rebirth, he loved every minute of it.
Two weeks in, they reached a critical point in their research. They tested a prototype, which failed miserably. The reason was something not even Cha Ming had anticipated. While each individual piece was fine and well constructed, when assembled, the earth beneath the Breaker was unable to bear the strain of its activation. They puzzled over it for days until Pan Su, of all people, came to the rescue.
The middle-aged woman, who’d grown increasingly unsatisfied at her inability to contribute to the project due to her major in geomancy, had predicted the problem. She had been experimenting for some time over different base materials in case the increasingly large tremors from the Breaker went out of control. By working with He Yin, and with the help of Cha Ming’s superior runework, they were able to manufacture three bases, one for each of their working prototypes. The concrete-like substance was inlaid both with metal and runes that absorbed and diffused vibrations. The prototype breakers were affixed to the platforms with rather expensive clamps that both held the large contraption firmly but allowed for removal when required.
“Well, that was an unexpected development,” Shao Qiang said, relieved at their successful deployment this time around. The dust was clearing from the fake wall they’d just destroyed. It was weaker than Southhaven Wall, but only by a half step. Unfortunately, the test pieces they had could only be used for their expected final prototype.
“If Pan Su hadn’t been here, we’d all be goners,” Cha Ming admitted. Even he, with his many talents and masteries, would not be able to replicate her work. “Though look at how she ignores us now that she’s finished her work.”
“Only two things excite her,” He Yin quipped. “Things that can’t be destroyed and destroying things. I think she sees it as a challenge. That’s what makes her such a good fit for the project.”
“And you?” Cha Ming asked.
“Me?” He Yin thought for a moment. “Nothing in particular. To be honest, I’m not the most skilled alchemist out there. I’ve heard reports that there are at least ten that are better in the South alone.”
“Surely there must be something,” Cha Ming pressed.
The man hesitated, then edged a little closer.
“I may have accidentally blown up a large facility and upset many people,” He Yin whispered. “I needed somewhere to hide, and Boss Tian happened to be interviewing some people at our lab for this same project. He was so impressed by the devastation I caused, and I was so desperate to find backing, that we almost immediately signed a contract, no questions asked.”
“I think you might be underplaying the devastation,” Shao Qiang said, walking over to them. “A large facility is hardly the same thing as half a city.”
“A small city,” He Yin said, holding his hands up defensively. “Almost a town. I felt really bad about it. Haven’t I spent all my wages trying to make amends to their families?”
Shao Qiang grunted but didn’t press the issue.
“I guest that leaves three pieces, then,” Cha Ming said. “Power distribution, spear shafts, and ball-bearing projectiles.”
“I still don’t see why we need those,” He Yin said. “Those spear tips can break anything even Boss Tian can make, if used with enough force. Not that I’m complaining, of course. Making the explosive mixture that drives them was refreshing to say the least. I love experimenting with my life on the line.”
That last part was the primary reason why he was employed, Cha Ming guessed. Nothing was better for research and development than the willingness to risk your own skin for progress.
“Without them, there’s not enough devastation,” Shao Qiang said. “One doesn’t kill a peak-marrow-refining cultivator with a single spear to the chest. It takes a lot more collateral damage to destroy their vitality stores.”
“But that’s a living thing, not a wall!” He Yin protested.
“A wall with a very large power network and a reserve to draw on,” Cha Ming said. “We need to deplete the local reserves faster than they can be restored. Simple fissures aren’t enough damage—they’ll be healed over in the blink of an eye. A large gap, however, is far more difficult to fix. If the gap is large enough, it might disrupt the wall’s healing mechanism entirely.”
He Yin shook his head but walked out of the room and back to his laboratory. The past few weeks had been especially taxing on the man. The explosives he’d just mentioned, the ones to propel the ball bearings, were needed in large quantities. This mixture happened to be very unstable, and even someone with Cha Ming’s skill would have trouble mass-producing it. All the man could do was spend what little time he had trying to keep up. They didn’t dare leak the mixture to the Blackthorn Conglomerate’s remaining alchemists, lest their plans be exposed.
“So, what’s next, mighty leader?” Pan Su asked, dusting off her hands. Her tablet was gone, as she’d just finished her inspection. Now that she’d finally contributed to the destruction, she was eager to do more.
“I was thinking that we could work on the ball bearings,” Cha Ming said. “I have an idea I might need your help with, if you’re willing to try.” Her eyes brightened at that. “You know how you built runes and structures within the geomantic support structure to diffuse vibrations?”
“Of course,” Pan Su said. “It was the key component.”
“Could you do the opposite?” Cha Ming asked. “Could you intensify the vibrations?”
“And make the material easier to shatter?” Pan Su asked with a frown. “I could only do it by etching into the
