Chapter 35: The Special Individual

Marcus was completely stunned. If he had to describe what he was seeing in two words, it would be: pure awe.

Leo had fully entered a mysterious state. Nothing in the external world could touch him; the background noise was irrelevant. His entire existence was focused solely on the task at hand.

His movements were slow, deliberate, and rhythmic. Every measurement he took was precise, passing inspection on the first attempt without fail.

If one observed closely, they would notice a distinct rhythm to his motions, a time to move, a time to be still, with clear intervals. He moved with the calculated efficiency of a machine.

As an elite operator in the Federation Special Forces, Marcus was no slouch. He was a university graduate and had been commissioned as a First Lieutenant straight out of the academy. Yet, he couldn’t wrap his head around this phenomenon. He racked his brain but couldn’t find a logical explanation. He tried to mimic Leo’s breathing rhythm while standing there but failed almost immediately.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the tritium-deuterium layer was finally laid. It was perfect. Leo snapped out of his trance, his forehead beaded with fine sweat, a sign of the immense mental and physical exertion. He wiped his brow, rested for ten minutes, and then signaled he was ready to continue.

Now came the final, most critical step: wrapping the Helium-3 saturated activated carbon in an iron foil only 20 nanometers thick, and then welding it seamlessly.

To put this in perspective, 20 nanometers is practically invisible. It is transparently thin. You cannot pick it up with human hands; it requires magnetic manipulation. To weld such a material seamlessly was a task that bordered on the impossible. The difficulty spoke for itself.

Leo’s personal tolerance requirement was one nanometer, the width of eight iron atoms lined up in a row. Professor Hao Yu hadn’t even asked for that level of precision; Leo was challenging himself.

Everyone’s hearts began to pound again. The procedure wasn’t explosive, and they had plenty of raw materials if he messed up, but the tension in the room was palpable. They were witnessing artistry, and they desperately wanted him to succeed on the first try.

At that moment, the laboratory door slid open. It was Jason. He had just finished delivering a passionate speech at the end of the concert and had hurried over immediately.

Jason entered quietly, finding the room thick with tension. Everyone looked serious, especially Marcus, whose dark face had turned beet red from holding his breath.

Jason couldn’t help but tease him. “What’s wrong, Marcus? Need to use the bathroom? Go ahead, don’t hold it in.”

Marcus flinched, snapping back to reality. This was a formal situation, so he couldn’t joke back with his commander. He stiffened, his expression taut, and saluted Jason. The others quietly acknowledged the leader’s arrival.

“Professor, why are you still making people work overtime? Isn’t today a holiday? You should all be resting,” Jason asked, genuinely curious. Lily had notified him during the party that the bomb might be finished tonight, which was why he came, but he hadn’t expected a full crew.

“Huh? A holiday? Is it?” Professor Hao Yu looked surprised. He had been so buried in the work for the past few days that he had completely lost track of time and the outside world.

“Commander, we’re all doing this voluntarily. It’s not the Professor’s fault!” one of the young engineers interjected, a fanatical light in his eyes. “If we don’t finish this today, I won’t be able to sleep at all!”

“Exactly. If we leave it for tomorrow, the anxiety will keep us up all night. Better to just push through and finish it!” another added.

“Alas, it is as they say. Until it is done, we cannot rest,” Professor Hao Yu said, spreading his hands helplessly.

Jason nodded. He had no intention of reprimanding them. These people were sacrificing their rest for the greater good, and they deserved praise. Their hard work was directly increasing humanity’s odds of survival.

He stopped speaking and simply observed. He had heard rumors that Leo possessed the finest motor skills on the Lunar Base, and seeing him in action today, Jason realized the rumors were true.

The man’s control over his body was absolute, exceeding normal human limits. Jason felt that even as a superhuman, he couldn’t claim such delicate precision.

Watching Leo’s movements, a mathematical concept suddenly popped into Jason’s mind: the Sine Function.

He felt that trigonometry perfectly described Leo’s current state. There were peaks and troughs, a frequency, and a fixed period. Leo always exerted force precisely at the crest of the wave, the most opportune moment completing the task in one smooth, direct motion.

From a biological perspective, Jason theorized this was related to the body’s natural cycles: muscle exertion, heartbeat intervals, and breathing frequency.

Everyone has a heart rate and a breathing rhythm. Even muscle contractions have a cycle. Leo had somehow intuitively grasped these cycles, allowing him to synchronize his movements with his own biology to seize the perfect moment between heartbeats.

It was an incredible skill. High-level snipers possessed a similar ability.

Micro-tremors caused by the heartbeat and breathing can ruin a shot at extreme distances. To achieve accuracy, marksmen undergo years of training to lower their heart rates and fire between beats.

It could be said that only a shooter who has conquered their breathing and mastered their heartbeat can take home the gold.

Jason and his Special Forces team had learned these techniques during training. But Leo’s rhythm was even more stable; he seemed to have integrated the technique into his very instincts. It was a level of natural aptitude that was nearly impossible to teach.

As Jason whispered his theory to Marcus, a thought struck him: Could this engineer be the “special individual” Lily mentioned?

Such absolute control over one’s body, whether due to talent or physiology, was definitely beyond the norm. Could it be that individuals like this could withstand the modification of the Perfect Element? Was their success rate higher?

He pondered this silently, then buried the secret deep in his heart. He would discuss this with Dr. Roman later; there was no need to alert the general public yet.

“Ah, so that’s it! Sir, that makes total sense. Why didn’t I see it before?” Marcus listened to Jason’s explanation as if receiving enlightenment. He suddenly realized that, as a sniper, he used the exact same technique, just for a different application.

“You need to read more. I’ve already chewed out Vice-Captain Austin about this,” Jason said, feigning irritation. “Right now, the Special Forces are the least cultured group on the Lunar Base.”

“If this continues, you won’t even be able to operate the latest weapons. If you don’t understand the physics behind them, how will you use them effectively? How will you maintain them?” Jason threatened playfully, though with a grain of truth. “I study every single day. Don’t embarrass the military.”

“Huh?” Marcus looked vexed. He was a university graduate! How was he an embarrassment?

Then, upon reflection, he realized Jason was right. If he couldn’t operate the new tech because he was too dumb to understand the manual, that would literally kill him. He secretly resolved to hit the library whenever he had free time.

But to be honest, after guarding these labs for so long, Marcus had come to a depressing realization: the Lunar Base was infested with child prodigies. Geniuses were everywhere.

Hell, human life felt less valuable than a dog’s life here. The Lunar Base only had about a dozen dogs; they were precious, rare, and ate better than most people to prevent their extinction.

Marcus thought about it carefully. Even the miners were mostly graduate students. In this environment, he really *was* the least educated. At least he was better off than the death row prisoners… right?

The United Government’s standards for selecting personnel for the Ark plan had been brutally strict. You were either a renowned Scientist, or you had to be the best of the best.

Just being a genius wasn’t enough. You had to have upright character, youth, physical strength, and a passion for your field. For a job paying $300,000 a year with a ticket off a dying Earth, there had been millions of applicants. The government could afford to be picky.

Thanks to this, the 50,000 people on the base were not only young and highly qualified but also possessed superior genetics. They were, in essence, a team perfectly evolved for survival and combat.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep