radicalducati Chapter 162 After all that, I still have to put it together myself.
Chapter 162 After all that, I still have to put it together myself.
Chapter 162 After all that, I still have to put it together myself.
Sigh, after all that, I still have to put it together myself.
However, she was indeed quite curious whether these clay soldiers, born from the obsessions of madmen, could understand and use weapons that exceeded their factory specifications.
Although the weapons of the clay figures have no practical significance to them, they are indeed very interesting.
Little Green was too lazy to bother picking out anything complicated or big, so she just searched through the pile of models and finally pulled out a box of gun assembly models with the words "Mini Armory" printed on the cover.
The packaging features a rather attractive gun with the "WA2000" logo, suggesting it's a sniper rifle.
This is the one; fewer parts, easier to handle.
She picked up the pliers she'd borrowed from the model shop and started snip-snipping the parts, ignoring the burrs and sprue marks.
"Hey, you're being way too rough! You should at least smooth out the rough edges, right?" Xia Zhaozhao's tone was full of disdain for this crude assembly.
"It's good enough as it is. We can refine it later if it turns out to be useful." Little Green replied without looking up.
It's best to just let things slide until the project's prospects are uncertain, without incurring any sunk costs.
Assembling the gun was indeed simple. Following the thin instruction manual, a 1/12 scale WA2000 was assembled in just a few minutes.
Of course, the surface is rough and there is no paint, but at least from the outline, it is still a gun.
She looked up and saw that the group of clay soldiers were holding binoculars and watching the whole process.
Hopefully, your ability to imitate is as strong as your thirst for knowledge, otherwise this task will never end.
Thinking this, she handed the plastic gun to a little figure.
The soldier took the gun, seemingly unconcerned about its crude appearance.
He pulled a clay dagger from his waist and began to trim the rough edges off the gun himself.
After smoothing out the rough edges, the soldier began to examine his new weapon. He seemed quite curious about this weapon he had never seen before.
But soon, that curiosity turned into pure confusion.
He studied it for a while, but seemed to have no idea about the gun's structure at all; he couldn't even figure out where the bullets should go in.
In the end, he gave up thinking and reported something to his superior.
Seeing this, Bai Shuyuan reminded her, "This gun first appeared in the 80s."
"Huh? It's such a long time apart from World War II?"
"Yes. It uses a bullpup design, with the bolt and magazine at the rear, a layout completely different from those traditional World War II firearms."
Bai Shuyuan picked up a piece of paper and tried to draw a simple diagram of a firearm on it.
She intended to hand over the paper, but found that the group of soldiers had already surrounded the gun and were having a heated discussion.
Next, Xiao Lv discovered that the gun had been disassembled in a completely different way than when it was assembled, even more thoroughly than the previous plastic parts.
This is magical.
The soldiers seemed amazed by the modular design, and then they seemed to quickly figure out how the gun worked.
Next, the gun was reassembled. A soldier picked up the gun and test-fired it.
The gun was then passed from one soldier to another. Each soldier who handled the gun reported his experience to his superiors. Finally, the WA2000 was solemnly handed over to an officer.
Subsequently, several engineers quickly and efficiently replicated an identical gun on the spot.
However, they didn't seem very interested in the guns themselves. In the following days, they focused more on replicating the scope.
Xiao Lü wasn't surprised that they could replicate the weapon; however, they didn't seem to like it very much and had no intention of equipping their troops with it.
At that moment, the clay figure that looked like an officer seemed to say something.
Bai Shuyuan continued with the simultaneous interpretation: "My dear comrades, please allow me to report to you our preliminary assessment of this new weapon."
The little brown figure stood straight, holding up a plastic gun.
Bai Shuyuan's simultaneous interpretation, for some reason, had a strong translation-like tone.
"Oh my God! This gun—I dare say, it's not even a work of art—I mean, every part of it is as precise as a Swiss watch, it's a perfect work of art!"
"I bet even the great John Browning would be so astonished to see this gun that he wouldn't even notice his pocket watch falling to the ground!"
"And this scope! My God, it's clearer than any we've ever captured!"
—A series of exaggerated praises made Xiao Lü feel as if she wasn't listening to a weapon review, but watching a Shakespearean play.
However, she could sense that the praise was genuine.
However, immediately afterward, although Bai Shuyuan's retelling was still a emotionless, monotone reading, Xiao Lü could hear that the officer's own tone had shifted from pure admiration to regret.
"But, comrade! Forgive my bluntness, but this gun—it does not belong on our battlefield."
"It's too delicate, too precise, too clean, too elegant!"
"I mean, I can totally imagine that if even a single drop of muddy water fell on its breech, it would immediately act like a sullen noblewoman and refuse to spit out a single bullet for us."
"So, my men trust this reliable fire poker more than it," the officer said, pointing to his Mosin-Nagant.
"My final conclusion is: this is a ceremonial saber with gold trim, and its best place is hanging on the wall of the general's office, not rolling around in the mud and rain with us."
—The clay soldier seemed unable to roll around in the rain, but Little Green certainly wouldn't point that out.
At this moment, Xia Zhaozhao, who was standing next to him, was stunned and clearly overwhelmed by this explanation.
Xiao Lü was also somewhat shocked, but not by his opinion of the gun, but by something else entirely.
She knew absolutely nothing about guns.
To her astonishment, the human-like quality of these palm-sized clay figures exceeded her expectations.
They have their own judgment and their own aesthetic sense.
Bai Shuyuan also seemed to be deep in thought.
After a moment, she spoke: "It seems that if we really need to provide weapons support, the simple PTRD-41 might be more suitable for them."
"—But it doesn't matter what you provide, right?" Xiao Lü raised her question.
"They're unlikely to be of much help on the front lines. Shouldn't our focus be on utilizing their communication capabilities?"
After listening, Bai Shuyuan explained, "For purely mechanical structures, they can understand and replicate technologies that are beyond their original era."
"They can quickly master postwar improvements like the WA2000, which do not involve complex electronic components."
Xiao Lü nodded after hearing Bai Shuyuan's words.
"So, if they can understand more complex mechanical structures—perhaps, they can become important allies for us in other ways besides communication."
"Huh? But didn't you say their nuclear weapons aren't that powerful? We can't expect their technology to advance all the way to two-dimensional foil, can we?"
"No," Bai Shuyuan explained, "that's not what I meant."
"We don't need them to master drone technology, nor do we need them to enter modern warfare—in fact, those things aren't that significant when fighting the Aggregate."
"The important thing is that jet fighters, attack helicopters, and even the simplest night vision devices—if they can learn these things, they could greatly improve our reconnaissance efficiency."
"And then there's the revolution in communication technology itself—"
The attention of the clay soldiers had already been drawn to another pile of model boxes.
Several soldiers worked together to drag over a cardboard box, opened it, and pulled out the instruction manual inside, which they then began to study.
Green glanced at the box cover; it appeared to be a relatively new wheeled tank, unlike the other World War II artifacts in the boxes.
The soldiers seemed more interested in the new toys. They spread out the huge instruction manual on the ground, dragged out the parts, and made a lot of cutting tools out of clay, and began assembling the tank.
"—They don't even need glue to assemble these models?" Xia Zhaozhao exclaimed in shock.
Bai Shuyuan nodded: "Weapon models seem to follow a different set of rules in their hands."
"But once we touch them, they turn back into ordinary clay or plastic."
"Plastic is fine! Plastic is good enough!"
Her eyes widened: "A figure that can help assemble a model kit? That's amazing, absolutely perfect!"
Xiao Lü wholeheartedly agrees.
Next, seemingly quite satisfied with these gains, the remaining clay soldiers returned to their main task.
Or rather, it returned to the topic that was truly useful to Xiao Lü and the others.
radio.
Bai Shuyuan walked up to the officer and began to communicate with him in fluent English.
The gist is that we are unable to operate their communication equipment and need them to send professionals to provide technical support.
After hearing this, the officer saluted crisply and immediately turned around to organize his men.
A large lump of brown clay was brought over, and soon, several communications soldiers were produced.
After understanding the situation, they proudly accepted their mission.
However, looking at those tiny miniature radios, Little Green still had some doubts.
"This thing—can it really work?" she asked Bai Shuyuan. "Their nuclear bombs are only slightly more powerful than firecrackers. How far can this miniature radio transmit?"
"Far enough."
Bai Shuyuan nodded and began to explain.
"Radio communications during World War II could achieve ultra-long-distance transmission with extremely low power in the absence of severe electromagnetic interference."
"Even if the communication environment of eighty years ago were scaled down, it wouldn't have been a problem to cover the entire Xinmao City, or even across provinces."
"The reason why increasingly higher and higher transmission power is needed is because the sky in modern society is filled with radio waves of various frequencies, and the crosstalk between them is too serious."
"In other words, the noise has increased. The signal must be stronger than the noise in order to be received clearly."
"However, there is no such crosstalk at present. Therefore, even with a pessimistic estimate, there will be no problem with its use within the province."
She paused, then added something even more crucial.
"Moreover, what they are using may just be something that looks like radio waves, rather than actual radio waves."
"Therefore, it is completely unaffected by this apocalyptic environment. Even if it weren't the apocalypse, it probably wouldn't interfere with our communication signals."
"If that's the case—then what exactly is it?" Xia Zhaozhao asked.
"I have no idea."
"Okay, it just works."
A moment later, when Xiao Lü and Xia Zhaozhao reappeared downstairs, Fang Lian and the two new survivors immediately stood at attention.
Xiao Lü didn't say anything, but simply handed the newcomer a few simple shotguns and some clean food.
"Square-faced, teach them how to use this."
She then took out some makeshift incendiary bombs and handed them over.
Bai Shuyuan then followed from behind, carrying two metal boxes the size of briefcases.
"What is this?" the square-faced man asked curiously. Of course, after experiencing a series of events that reshaped his worldview, he was no longer too surprised.
I just felt that this must be some incredible new treasure.
The two new survivors also cast puzzled glances at them.
"Communication tools"
Bai Shuyuan answered succinctly. She then took out two sheets of paper with commonly used Morse code written on them.
"Use this if there's a situation."
Considering that not everyone speaks English, she chose this method of communication, which is quite reliable.
"Just slip the note with the corresponding information through this opening," she said, pointing to a slot on the side of the box.
"If the situation becomes complicated or you encounter a crisis, you can speak English directly; it can recognize it. If that doesn't work, shout 'Haikoupo!' or slip a note with Morse code representing 'SOS' inside."
"It can understand human speech?" The square-faced man was completely dumbfounded.
He remembered that the half-baked veterinarian and his son at the bank branch only knew a few words of foreign languages. Then he began to think about the specific applications of this kind of thing.
He carefully took the box from Bai Shuyuan's hands, as if he were receiving the Imperial Seal of the State.
The two new survivors on the other side had disbelief written all over their faces.
In their view, there is probably no essential difference between female ghosts and superpowered individuals.
They carefully held the box in their arms, as if following some kind of rule or regulation from a ghost story.
"Be careful, this thing is very delicate," Little Green cautioned from the side. "It absolutely cannot be damaged in any way."
Inside the box, a miniature clay radio was placed in the center, with several communications soldiers on duty around it.
The box even had a living area and some entertainment facilities like playing cards. Although these guys seem like they're made of iron, providing some small perks to ensure their mental well-being can't hurt.
In addition, the inner walls of the box were also covered with a layer of soft modeling clay, and Bai Shuyuan also helped with a simple waterproofing treatment.
Although the clay officers didn't seem to care about potential battle losses, and the clay soldiers were more resilient than he had imagined, Little Green still decided to treat them better.
"So, do not turn it upside down, do not get it wet, do not fall from a height, and try to avoid any bumps—" she repeated tirelessly.
"Yes. Bring it to me every seven days for replacement," Bai Shuyuan added. "It needs maintenance."
Actually, it's to rotate the soldiers inside.
They rotate every seven days, have more space than a submarine, and spend most of their time slacking off—the working conditions are quite excellent. At least—it should be much better than many submariners, Little Green silently complained.
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