Chapter 218 — The Self-Awareness a Transmigrator Ought to Have
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 4
The rotor-type magical-energy engine could be said to be one of the very first ideas Gao You had conceived after he hit upon the path of "magical industrialization," yet its realization had been dragged out until today—because the difficulties and complexity of this system far surpassed any magical device conceived thus far. A rotor magical-energy engine required no fewer than eight sets, and as many as a dozen or even several dozen sets, of neatly arrayed repulsion arrays operating in unison before it could start; and with so many repulsion arrays linked together, the magical interference produced was nothing short of a disaster. To solve the interference problem therein, even with the mathematical calculations of runic logic, proved exceptionally arduous.
But Jenny had solved this problem nonetheless—and had even proposed a further optimization scheme for the original rotor engine.
Gao Yang gazed for a long while at the blueprints on the desk and the documents beside them. His expression must have been too grave, for even Amber, who had followed him into the study to watch the fun, was startled. She stared at Gao Cen in astonishment: "What's wrong? Is there a problem with the blueprints? Did Jenny make a mistake in her calculations?"
Gao Yang lifted his head and said, apropos of nothing: "I am no genius."
"Huh?" Amber was struck dumb by this muddled remark. The next second she decided it was Gao You teasing her. "You're doing this on purpose to needle me, aren't you? If a monster-class fellow like you isn't a genius, are ordinary people even allowed to live? Of course, I don't count myself among the 'ordinary people'—I'm a genius, I'm the Chosen of the Goddess of Night, you know..."
"I was merely speaking from the heart." Gao Yang paid no mind to the latter half of Amber's words, but said this with a half-smile, turning to look out the floor-to-ceiling window at the lights gradually kindling across the territory as night fell.
He was no genius.
Nor was he the center of the world.
He could not conjure a magical-industrial age out of thin air, nor could he alone drag this world onward toward some sea of stars.
Gao Yang had possessed this awareness from the very beginning, and today he understood it all the more profoundly.
He knew that compared with ordinary people he counted as a special individual, and he could frankly admit that he meant to do great things, that he harbored the ambition to influence the transformations of this age—but he knew even better that even if the age changed, it was not something he alone could pull along.
Reviewing carefully all that had happened along his path, Gao Yang judged his own position ever more clearly, and recognized ever more clearly what talent and wisdom the locals of this world possessed.
The magic net came from a down-and-out yet gifted wild mage; the Rebecca Crystal and the runic trigger came from a noble girl with a wondrous turn of mind; runic logic was a great law distilled by three generations of researchers over decades; the first magical-energy engine was hammered out bit by bit by the craftsmen and technicians of the territory; and the mass-production technique for alchemical potions—and ultimately the machine designs and the completion of the factory—were the fruit of months of labor by the druid Pi Yun and the apprentices he led, together with the hundreds of workers, technicians, and craftsmen of the territory.
Just moments ago, Padrick Bohn of the Kant territory had, in barely an hour, grasped the concepts of regional agency, production-supply-marketing chains, and market feedback, and had, in accordance with the actual conditions of this age, put forward a proposal for tiered sales of goods.
And now, Jenny Perot had completed the final calculations for the rotor-type magical-energy engine, and—before Gao Yang had even thought of it—had designed an effective speed-regulation scheme for the engine.