Homo Sapiens

Wang Haoran and Mu Ziying, who had been formally employed in Hongsawaddy for over two months, had been transferred to the aviation production base in Kachin State.

Along with a large number of other employees, they were busy at the base maintaining various production lines and upgrading older ones.

Gazing at the 1970s-era MiG-25 production line before them, Wang Haoran and a few other motor engineers tested the dozen or so upgraded servomotors.

He let out a long breath. ”Whew... That should do it. Any other issues will probably only be discovered during the trial production run.”

Another aircraft manufacturing engineer, Carl Lovsky, who had been headhunted from the Kyiv Duchy, was one of the technical consultants for the MiG-25 production line.

”Wang, you’ve done well.”

Wang Haoran wasn’t particularly surprised by Carl’s fluent Mandarin; it seemed that all the Senior Engineers and management throughout the factory had mastered their native languages, Chinese, English, and more.

This was actually a trademark and a perk for ”New Human” employees, but since Wang Haoran hadn’t joined their ranks, he naturally didn’t know the ropes.

He smiled and asked quietly, ”Mr. Carl, is it really necessary to produce such an old plane? I remember Lucia has a lot of decommissioned MiG-25s in storage. Wouldn’t it be more cost-effective to just buy them?”

”My boy, sometimes money can’t solve every problem,” Carl said, shaking his head with a smile.

Carl, now in his fifties, had long since seen the world for what it was.

There are no shortcuts for certain things.

Otherwise, the cost of playing catch-up later could be far greater than the cost today.

Wang Haoran was still under the influence of free-market thinking, believing money could buy anything.

Carl patted him on the shoulder. ”I’m heading out on a business trip for a while tomorrow. You and your team should stick to the plan and run a small-scale trial production on some of the equipment.”

”No problem.”

”I’m leaving it in your hands, then.”

Carl left the factory and, along with several other Senior Engineers and designers in aircraft manufacturing, secretly traveled to Mandalay.

Homo Sapiens Company had a comprehensive set of protection and transport protocols for its Senior Engineers. Their movements were never publicized, and they certainly weren’t allowed to book their own flights.

The main reason was that air travel was simply too dangerous.

Especially with Boeing aircraft; it would be far too easy for America to tamper with them.

Thus, important members of Homo Sapiens Company would not travel by air under their official identities unless it was absolutely unavoidable.

After being secretly transported and disguised, Carl and the others appeared in groups at Thonburi International Airport in Siam.

They then boarded several Airbus passenger jets and flew to Luzon Manila.

After a roundabout journey, Carl and his colleagues finally arrived at the headquarters of Flying Fish Company.

The company’s General Manager and base commander, Paul, along with Chief Technology Officer Fang Bai and others, personally gave them a tour of the facility.

As they walked inside the base, Carl’s expression showed a hint of surprise, especially when they entered the final assembly workshop.

Three large, feathered propeller aircraft were in the middle of being intensively assembled.

Flying Fish Company’s first prototype had already been produced and was located on the other side of the island, where there was a large airfield for testing.

It had even undergone several test flights in the surrounding area a while back, taking advantage of the overcast weather.

”So beautiful... just like an An-22,” Carl murmured, as if recalling a distant memory.

”It can’t quite match the An-22 in terms of payload and speed,” Fang Bai said with a smile, shaking his head.

But Carl gave a complicated smile. ”At least they’re fortunate enough not to become homeless strays.”

Fang Bai, of course, detected the melancholy in his words. After all, Carl had once been an engineer for the Antonov Company, so the sight naturally stirred up old feelings.

Paul changed the subject. ”Gentlemen, shall we head to the engine workshop?”

Putting aside his complicated emotions, Carl quickly recalibrated his mindset. ”I hear you’ve recently made improvements to the materials for some components?”

”Yes,” Fang Bai nodded.

A short while later, they took a small electric cart through the factory to the engine workshop, which was built into the mountainside.

The workshop was vast. New technologies had clearly been used to hollow out a large section of the mountain.

As he led the way, Paul explained, ”This is the assembly area, and that’s the parts warehouse over there. This track leads to the engine testing zone on the other side...”

Upon entering the engine assembly area, Fang Bai pointed to an engine currently being put together.

”Although it’s an old-model turbojet engine, we’ve replaced some core components and paired it with a special biochip and control system. This old heart’s power has increased by at least 37%, while its fuel consumption has only gone up by 4.3%.”

Carl’s expression grew serious. ”Thirty-seven percent? Are you using ultra-high-pressure combustion? Can the casing and blades withstand that?”

Fang Bai, however, explained with excitement, ”Our casing interior is made with high-manganese-molybdenum steel. Even under ultra-high-pressure combustion, its operational lifespan is extended by around 235 percent. It’s a similar story for the turbine blades.”

”Such a huge leap in materials science? That’s incredible.” Carl knew the limits of a turbojet engine all too well.

”Even with a dated design, we can still compensate with superior materials. It’s all thanks to our Chairman.”

Even without the hormonal and pheromonal inducements from the biochip in his brain, Fang Bai’s admiration for Li Qingye had already escalated to the point of near-blind worship.

”So it’s his masterpiece.” Carl was past the age of zealotry, but he genuinely held a deep admiration for Li Qingye.

Even if many outsiders saw some of Li Qingye’s actions as the embodiment of pure evil.

But Carl, who had personally lived through the Great Slump, the Great Collapse, and the long-term chaos that followed, knew all too well that the world was sick—terminally so.

Given the choice again, Carl would still unhesitatingly choose to follow Li Qingye. In him, he saw hope, and he also saw the shadow of the Benevolent Father.

This was also why he had willingly allowed the biochip to be implanted in him.

In fact, to Carl, the moment the biochip was implanted, it was as if his life had been reborn in fire. The power of conviction once again filled his body.

He felt as if he had gone back thirty years, to when he was just twenty-six.

Even if this conviction was technologically induced, Carl embraced it willingly. He even felt it was purer, richer, and more steadfast.

Now, he could speak freely about anything. He had companions he could trust unconditionally. He no longer had to worry about the future. He was doing the work he loved most.

Carl was willing to risk everything, even his own life, to protect this utopia.

After discussing various technologies with Fang Bai’s team, Carl and his group, representing Qingye Airlines Company, reached an agreement with Flying Fish Company to hold regular technical exchanges.

As two subsidiaries of Homo Sapiens Company, they appeared to be in competition, but this didn’t actually prevent them from collaborating.

This was especially true of their market positioning: Flying Fish Company currently specialized in drones and large transport aircraft, while Qingye Aviation focused on fighter jets and launch vehicles.

It was, in effect, a cooperative division of labor designed to avoid redundant research and development, which would waste precious scientific resources.

This exchange gave Carl and his team a mental blueprint for their own work. They also finally understood why Li Qingye had specifically requested the procurement of the MiG-25 production line.