Chapter 409 - 393: Mounting Rack 3

Chapter 409: Chapter 393: Mounting Rack 3

"Don’t interrupt him. Many times, the truth is hidden in the most unassuming of materials." Valerius looked at Anton. "You’re thinking of using the wood’s toughness?"

Greatly encouraged, Anton picked up the thin iron rod and gestured with it over the strip of oak.

"We need to solve two problems: how to hang it, and how to drop it."

He carved one end of the oak strip into the shape of a hook and fitted it over the edge of the table.

"We don’t need gears, and we don’t need springs. We can use the wood’s own natural elasticity to make a mortise-and-tenon-style clasp." Anton’s fingers moved nimbly. "We use the weight of this canister... er, bomb, to press down on this wooden clasp. The heavier it is, the tighter it locks."

"Then how do you drop it?" an apprentice couldn’t help but ask.

"By disrupting the balance." Anton took a charcoal pencil from his pocket. He was about to draw on the table, but then thought better of it and pulled his hand back.

"Go on, draw," Valerius said, opening his own exquisite notebook and handing it over. "It’ll be hard to see on the table. Draw in here."

Anton gave the old man a grateful look and quickly began to draw.

"Here, you add a cross-pin to act as a fulcrum for a lever. Attach a rope. With just a gentle pull, the fulcrum shifts, and the wood’s elasticity will spring the clasp open. The bomb’s weight will make it detach instantly."

Anton finished the last stroke and looked up at Valerius.

"As for the fuse... you tie the fuse cord directly to the rack, leaving half a meter of slack. When the bomb falls, the cord pulls taut, and the pull-ring naturally comes out. Using its own gravity is the most reliable force there is."

The room fell silent.

Valerius held the notebook, staring at the simple sketch for a long time.

No gears, no springs, no complex mechanical transmissions. Just a few pieces of wood, a single pin, and two ropes.

’Brilliant...’ the old alchemist muttered to himself. The corners of his mouth slowly turned up, the wrinkles around his eyes smoothing out. ’The low temperatures at high altitudes cause metal to become brittle, but oil-treated oak actually becomes tougher in the cold... How did I never think of that?’

He looked up at Anton, his eyes filled with admiration and surprise.

"This is the wisdom of nature. Using the simplest materials to achieve the most complex results," Valerius sighed. "We are always thinking of conquering nature, but we forget to work with it. You have taught me a lesson, Master."

He gently patted Anton’s shoulder, his touch as light as if greeting an old friend.

"What’s your name?"

"Anton, Master. A Level 2 Assistant from Workshop Three."

"Level 2 Assistant?" Valerius laughed and shook his head. "A complete waste of your talent. Alright, everyone, get moving! Follow Master Anton’s design, go to the storeroom and find the best keel fir—the kind boiled in whale oil. We’re going to test this genius’s idea."

Excited, the apprentices immediately ran for the materials storeroom.

「Half an hour later.」

On the Magic Array platform, a fierce wind howled.

The crude wooden rack trembled slightly in the one-hundred-and-twenty-kilometer-per-hour winds, but it held the counterweight in a death grip.

"Pull the rope!"

As the rope was pulled, there was a soft CLICK.

The counterweight detached, and the fuse was pulled out perfectly.

The entire process was seamless, perfectly smooth.

"It worked!" the apprentices cheered.

Valerius looked at the empty rack and let out a long sigh of relief. He turned, looked at Anton, whose hands were covered in wood shavings, and solemnly extended his own hand.

"Thank you, Anton." The old man’s hand was warm and strong. "You’ve solved a major problem that has been troubling us."

He took out a sheet of letter paper from his coat, quickly wrote a few lines on it, and then handed it to Anton with both hands.

"Take this to the Development Department. I will recommend you to the Lord. Starting today, you don’t need to go back to Workshop Three. Come work for me. We need minds like yours, the kind that understand how to ’yield’."

Anton held the paper, looking at the master before him—so unpretentious, so sincere in his thanks—and felt his eyes grow warm.

"Thank you... Thank you, Master."

"No, we should be the ones thanking you." Valerius smiled and pointed to the giant white bird soaring past the window. "You’re the one who has given our birds real claws."