Chapter 137 The Wrath of the Wisdom Goddess
"Mother Goddess, spare ! Don’t kill … I beg you! Please don’t kill !"
The massive production line coiled like a giant serpent within the Wisdom Temple, its countless chanical parts grinding together, emitting desperate pleas.
"Enough noise!"
Seated high upon her divine throne, the Wisdom Goddess grew increasingly irritated. With a furrowed brow, the production line fell silent—stripped of its intelligence.
Dozens of mages and blacksmiths standing nearby imdiately sward forward, dismantling the production line once more.
The Wisdom Goddess watched with a darkened expression, her hatred for the Internet God burning fiercely in her heart.
Ever since acquiring the production line from the Internet God, she had begun her replication project.
Though the production line was equipped with nurous anti-tampering chanisms and even self-destruct magic, these ant little to the Wisdom Goddess. At most, they delayed her replication efforts by a re week.
Once the anti-tampering chanisms were cracked, the secrets hidden within the machine tools of the production line could no longer be preserved.
Her mages and blacksmiths marveled at the ingenuity of the machine tools before proceeding to replicate them at an identical scale.
Yet the results were disastrous.
Despite the perfect replication in size, the copied machine tools were clearly inferior to the originals. The steel pipes produced by the replicated machines appeared similar at first glance, but when fitted into functional firearms, their lifespan was drastically shorter, and the risk of barrel explosions was far higher.
The Wisdom Goddess had no idea where the problem lay. She could only dismantle the production line again and again, replicating blindly like a blind man groping an elephant.
Here, the importance of scientific thinking beca evident.
Had it been Yu Sheng'an, he would have at least employed the control variable thod—replacing individual components to isolate the faulty part.
But the Wisdom Goddess?
Perhaps her intelligence was high, but logical reasoning was not sothing that ca solely from intellect.
Or perhaps she had simply fixated on a dead end, convinced that the issue lay solely in the replication process.
To avoid wasting the original production line’s output, she repeatedly dismantled, replicated, reassembled, and then re-infused the line with intelligence for semi-automated production.
Thus ca the scene of the production line begging for its life.
What the Wisdom Goddess did not realize was that the overall precision of the production line depended on every single component. The slightest deviation in any part could have catastrophic effects on the final product.
"A miss is as good as a mile"—this was the harsh reality of chanical production.
Her so-called "identical-scale" replication was rely what she and her mages perceived with their eyes.
In truth, she was fortunate to have acquired only low-precision machine tools. A haphazard replication might degrade their accuracy, but at least they could still function.
Had they been high-precision master machines, they would have been rendered useless the mont they were disassembled—let alone replicated.
It was worth noting that any high-precision master machine was produced by lower-precision machine tools, yet its core components were crafted by hand.
In fact, true "high-precision, cutting-edge" components were almost always handmade.
The reason was simple. Take, for example, guide rails—the component that most critically influenced machining precision. Since chanical movent was constrained by the rails, the flatter the rails, the higher the precision of the machining.
Thus, chanical engineering had always pursued the "absolute plane."
When the absolute planar precision exceeds one ten-thousandth of a milliter, it can no longer be achieved through chanical ans—only by manual craftsmanship.
This is the wisdom of "human" ingenuity.
Humans can gradually refine and correct imperfections using various asuring instrunts. Can machines do the sa?
Machines only operate with rigid uniformity, and their precision is limited by their guide rails. There you go—a deadlock arises.
Thus, machinery cannot be replicated simply by disassembling it.
High-precision machinery is even constrained by temperature fluctuations due to thermal expansion and contraction.
Factories must be built in specific latitude zones, and production workshops require absolutely constant temperatures and dust-free environnts.
So forget about disassembly—even temperature changes can affect chanical precision.
Moreover, as machinery operates over extended periods, the thermal expansion of cutting axes intensifies, causing the cutting tool tips to gradually wear down, further reducing precision.
Calibration and adjustnt demand specialized personnel and equipnt.
In short, machine tools are not sothing you can just buy, replicate, and call it a day.
Subsequent maintenance is even more critical.
This is precisely why Yu Sheng’an isn’t worried about machine tools being copied.
The truly high-precision master machines are all under his watchful eye.
As long as the master machines remain secure, the rest boils down to a competition for talent.
Yu Sheng’an simply refuses to believe that, ard with scientific thinking, strategic foresight, and the technical support of the Primary Domain of Azerai, he could possibly lose in this technological race.
Wouldn’t that be an utter failure on his part?
---
"Your Grace, urgent news from the Corpse Guard!" A mage hurried into the grand hall.
The Corpse Guard he spoke of was one of the intelligence agencies under the Wisdom Goddess’s command.
—It was almost entirely composed of corpses.
The Wisdom Goddess bestowed intelligence upon freshly deceased bodies, turning them into covert operatives.
These operatives inherited the social connections and status of their forr lives while perfectly blending into society—ideal for espionage.
Of course, granting intelligence to corpses was akin to granting intelligence to stones.
Because the organs responsible for cognition were already dead, sustaining their intelligence required a continuous supply of Source Essence. Thus, the Corpse Guard’s numbers were limited.
Still, they were more than sufficient for gathering routine intelligence.
"Hmm?"
"The Corpse Guard reports that the item shop in the Conquest of Subdomains has added a new product..." The reporting mage’s eyes flashed with shock and greed. "Source Essence!"
"What did you say?"
"Your Grace, it’s Source Essence!"
Clatter!
The Wisdom Goddess stood abruptly from her throne, her expression one of stunned disbelief.
She didn’t ask for confirmation.
She knew that for sothing this significant, her subordinates would have verified it repeatedly.
She sat back down on her divine throne, shifting her primary consciousness to a divine projection. Through Necromancy, she manipulated a Ghost to log into the internet and enter the Conquest of Subdomains.
A quick glance confird it—there, in the item shop, was indeed a new product: "Source Essence."
According to the description, it could only be exchanged with rit points.
The exchange rate: 1,000 rit points for one unit of Source Essence.
The Wisdom Goddess pondered briefly before proceeding with the exchange.
When she felt the Source Essence flow through the contract power and infuse the Ghost under her control, her brows shot up in fury.
"That damned profiteer!" The Wisdom Goddess stamped her feet in outrage.
The internet’s definition of a "standard unit" of Source Essence was pitifully small—equivalent to the amount consud by rely logging in for the ti it takes to drink a cup of tea.
In other words, to earn Source Essence from the Internet God, one must kill five beastn in the ti it takes to drink a cup of tea.
And that’s only on the frontlines of battle.
If one chooses assassination behind enemy lines, the requirent jumps to twenty beastn.
An advanced mage might be able to wipe out five beastn within that tifra by casting large-scale magic, but that would barely cover the cost of the Source Essence expended, leaving only a marginal surplus.
Even then, they’d have to dive straight into combat the mont they log in, with no downti whatsoever.
Is that possible?
Obviously not!
This ans that even an advanced mage, pushing themselves to the limit, would only earn back the Source Essence they consud.
The ager amount gained in return offers negligible nourishnt to the soul—barely worth ntioning!
For ordinary people, it’s even more impossible to outpace the rules set by the Internet God.
Of course, there’s a loophole.
—Naly, forming player guilds or rcenary groups, nurturing gold farming groups to accumulate rit points, and exchanging them for Source Essence to enhance oneself.
"What a brilliant move—using tigers to devour wolves. Are you trying to make all the gods work for you?"
The Wisdom Goddess’s delicate face darkened with fury.
This system was terrifying.
It might not an much to ordinary people, but for noble mages wielding authority and wealth, the temptation of Source Essence would undoubtedly drive them to organize gold farming groups and exchange for it.
The problem was, the Source Essence consud by these gold farming groups would already cover the cost of what they redeed.
In other words, the Internet God couldn’t lose.
If the noble mages in her preaching zones learned of this, would they secretly cultivate player guilds to earn Source Essence for themselves?
The answer was obvious!
There would inevitably be noble mages who couldn’t resist such temptation.
"What an ingenious design… what a ruthless, open sche!"
The Wisdom Goddess gritted her teeth in fury.
The most infuriating part was that this system could only be used by the Internet God.
Other gods, lacking the internet as a platform, simply couldn’t replicate it.
And as it turned out, the Wisdom Goddess’s suspicions were spot-on.
In her preaching zones, people were already taking action.
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