The encrypted email lay quietly in Chén Zhāoyáng's inbox, bearing a striking subject line in the sender field: "Military R&D Team." The message was blunt to the point of being abrasive: "During simulated ballistic calculations, the graphical interface did indeed boost efficiency by 47 percent, but it keeps crashing when adapting to domestic chips."
Those words acted like a key, instantly unlocking the heavily guarded puzzle box in his mind. Chén Zhāoyáng stared at the screen, his Adam's apple bobbing as he belatedly realized he had been holding his breath. The time in the bottom right corner of the monitor read 3:17 AM. Outside the window, the city had long since fallen into deep slumber; only the outdoor unit of the laboratory's air conditioner emitted a monotonous hum.
His heart hammered frantically in his chest. He was practically draped over the keyboard, the tip of his nose nearly touching the icy display. Every single word read like executing code, compiling and recompiling repeatedly across his retina. After waiting for so long, he had finally caught a useful lead!
Chapter 133