Super Gene Optimization Fluid

The engine was a core component of a spaceship, akin to a human’s heart. Without a healthy heart, there was no way a body could sustain high-intensity work.

All the components which were going to be used in the restoration of the naval-issued Eagle-class frigate must be of the highest standards, so the engine of course was no different.

The Black Mamba 130 engine was built by one of the top components manufacturers in the alliance, Dark Sky Serpent Corporation. The standard frigate engine could generate a propulsion force of around a hundred standard units, while a Black Mamba 130 engine could generate up to a hundred thirty standard units of propulsion force through an optimized mechanical structure and power system, a thirty percent increase compared to the standard frigate engine.

Given how science had developed to its current point, plenty of technology out there was already pushed to their extremes, so even just improving performance by a teeny bit would be extremely expensive.

Though a Black Mamba 130 engine’s performance was only thirty percent higher than the conventional engine, the technical difficulty to achieve this was well beyond what an ordinary human could imagine.

Apparently, in order to improve engine performance, Dark Sky Serpent Corporation had done tens of thousands of modifications to a standard engine, spending over a hundred years just to produce a top-grade engine.

Precisely due to the complexity of such top-grade equipment in terms of the creation process that it had a very low production rate. Rarely could anyone buy it on the market, and when one or two Black Mamba 130 engines appeared for sale, the price would invariably be many times higher than the standard models.

There was a conventional praxis among the top manufacturers to provide service for the privileged class in the universe with their products first before making them available for purchase to the average galactic citizens.

Boateng shook his head vigorously. “Everyone didn’t arrive for work today. Were it any other day, they would already be starting work.”

Xia Fei was slightly shocked and looked at his microcomputer watch for the time. He had chatted with Avril until late last night, which was why he had gotten up at the usual time that he was supposed to start work.

Old Porter’s workers all observed punctuality. They would all turn up at work fifteen minutes before they were expected at the very least, so if this were as per usual, all should have started to get busy with their respective tasks by now.

Lighting a cigarette, Xia Fei sat beside Boateng and looked up at the overcast sky. “Does Uncle Porter know?”

Boateng quietly nodded, not saying a word.

Xia Fei looked around and noticed that there seemed to be a lone figure far in the northwest corner of the factory, using the equipment in his hands to observe what was going on in the workshop.

“Hmph!” Xia Fei’s nostrils coldly flared up, then he got up and slapped Boateng across his back. “Someone’s watching us. Let’s get to work like usual, or else someone might think that we’re afraid of them.”

Boateng abruptly got to his feet, a grave expression etched on his face. “You’re right. The more they wish to make a joke out of us, the more we should persist.”

Quietly picking up their tools, Xia Fei and Boateng began their work for the day.

The work, which would usually take nine men to accomplish, was only being done by two today. Anyone could just imagine how much pressure Xia Fei and Boateng were under right now, but neither felt pressured; instead, they worked harder than before, sweating heavily as they pushed themselves more.

Old Porter came by twice from the design studio, and seeing both sweating profusely as they worked without break, he could only sigh heavily and shake his head before heading back with weighted footsteps.

By noon, Xia Fei and Boateng were sitting on the ground with their lunchboxes in hand, wolfing down their meals ravenously.

There was no need to mention just how tired they were after doing such high-intensity work the entire morning, but there was a limit to the strength two men possessed, and even if they had painstakingly pushed themselves past their endurance, they only managed to finish half of what they could usually get done by lunch.

In the sky, a yellow shuttle hurriedly landed on the factory compound. Schneider, who was in charge of the electronic circuitry, stepped off the shuttle in a panic, half-jogging and half-running as he made his way to the workshop.

“Uncle Porter?” anxiously inquired Schneider.

Boateng mercilessly gave Schneider a hard look and continued to eat his lunch, as if he were resentful of him.

Schneider lowered his head miserably, embarrassment written all over his face.

Xia Fei smiled, put his lunchbox aside, and walked to Schneider. “He’s in the design studio as per usual. Have you eaten lunch yet?”

That was when Schneider looked past Xia Fei and shouted, “Uncle Porter!”

Xia Fei turned and saw Old Porter standing behind him.

“I-I…” Schneider stammered for a long time, unable to find the words he wanted to say, looking so dejected that he appeared to be on the verge of tears.

Old Porter took out an envelope from his pocket and handed it to Schneider, patting the latter lightly with his wrinkled hand as if he were consoling a child.

“This is all your salary plus a bonus. None of you should have any trouble finding work given the skills you guys have. You all hardly earned much following me all these years, so I’m giving you guys three months’ worth of pay; take this as my way of compensating you all,” melancholically said Old Porter.

“No no no, I’m not here for our wages. I just feel that, after working under you for so many years, I oughta say goodbye at least, or else I’ll never be able to forgive myself,” said Schneider as he began to cry like an aggrieved child.

Old Porter shoved that envelope with the wages into Schneider’s hand, turning around to head back into the design studio.

Schneider crumbled to the ground, slapping himself with his two hands. His face, thus, very quickly swelled up.

Xia Fei wanted to stop the man but could not bring himself to do so. What Schneider needed now was to vent, or else he would surely be suffering deep inside.

“Uncle Porter, we seriously can’t bear it anymore! Their methods…” Schneider’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry! I’m the bastard! I’m not worthy!”

Old Porter swiftly strode over to stop him, his voice trembling as he spoke. “I know. I know about everything. There’s no need for you to blame yourself. Just go.”

After Schneider slapped himself repeatedly, blood flowed from his mouth when he finally stood up and left with a broken spirit.

Boateng saw that yellow shuttle disappearing into the sky and spat to the ground. “I hope you enjoy working for Old K’s factory.”

Xia Fei lit a cigarette and frowned. “Boateng, why didn’t you leave?”

Boateng gritted his teeth and answered with vehemence, “I won’t leave master.”

All of a sudden, an old-fashioned phone rang in Boateng’s pocket. He pulled the device out and gave it a cursory glance before getting up. “I’m going to take this call.”

He brought the phone to a corner of the factory floor, and after a moment of consideration, Xia Fei used his Breath Control technique and quietly followed him.

He heard a woman’s voice on the other end of the call, most likely Boateng’s wife. At the moment she was sounding hysterical, yelling frantically at Boateng through the phone.

Boateng stood still like a wooden dummy, letting his wife cry and screech at him as he remained motionless, not saying a word in return.

This dumb man was presently enduring an insurmountable pressure/ Xia Fei did not know why, but what Boateng said next deeply touched him.

“Then, let’s get a divorce. Send the paperwork to the workshop, and I’ll sign it.” Boateng spoke in a hoarse voice. “No matter what happens, I’m not going to leave my master’s side.”

With that, Boateng hung up. He agonizingly grabbed his hair with both hands and let out a low moan.

After a long while, Boateng stood up, tidied himself, took several deep breaths, and made his way back to the workshop with red eyes.

It was already very clear what had just happened by then. That person called Old K had been exerting constant pressure on the factory mechanics in order to get hold of what Porter had.

None of them said a word about this the entire time and, instead, silently tolerated it as much as they could.

When this pressure became greater and greater until they could no longer bear with it, some chose to yield, while those who remained resolute like an unmovable boulder ended up sacrificing something to a certain degree.

What had originally been a fairly boisterous factory was reduced to an empty shell, leaving just Boateng, Old Porter, the cripple Songsan who cooked their food, Lina in the design studio, and Xia Fei himself.

There was also that old hound, Inert Star, guarding the gate. Inert Star was so old it was unable to move anymore from its position; it had even already shed half the hair on its body. It spent its entire day lying on the ground, basking in the sun, neither eating nor drinking. It would not be long before the animal left its mortal coil.

Xia Fei leaned on a warship and smoked several sticks as he pondered on several issues at once.

Finally, he flicked his final cigarette butt to the ground and pushed the communication button on his microcomputer watch.

“Sonny, I have some things I need you to do.” Xia Fei spoke in an icy tone.