That stamping press, a steel behemoth over five meters tall, was now letting out a deathly wail.
In the eyes of others, it was just shaking violently, letting out the metallic groans of something overwhelmed.
But in Jin Wanzhao's field of vision, it was a completely different scene.
The energy pathways running through the machine's core had shifted from a stable blue to a violent, raging red. Chaotic streams of energy, like wild horses breaking free of their reins, madly assaulted its fragile joints. The gear crack he had "seen" yesterday had now split open into a gap, from which ominous pale red energy leaked wildly, like a river breaching its dam.
This machine could explode at any moment.
*Crack!*
A crisp, teeth-grinding sound of something breaking cut through all the surrounding noise.
On one of the stamping press's main support arms, a terrifying crack had appeared, visible to the naked eye. The entire colossus tilted violently, as if it would topple over in the next second.
"It's gonna blow! Run!"
Someone let out a desperate scream, shattering the workers' last shred of侥幸心理.
Panic spread through the entire workshop like a plague.
The workers threw down their tools, scrambling and crawling to flee away from the stamping press, their faces etched with terror. They looked as if invisible demons were chasing them. The entire Smelting Zone instantly descended into chaos.
But Jin Wanzhao didn't move.
He stood rooted to the spot, the surrounding screams, curses, and sounds of fleeing footsteps seeming to fade away into the distance.
His mind was consumed by an unprecedented clarity.
In his eyes, that stamping press on the verge of exploding transformed into an incredibly detailed three-dimensional blueprint. Every component, every pipe, the flow of every energy pathway, was clearly presented before him. He could even "hear" the pained groans of the cracking gear.
Within the chaotic torrent of energy, a faint path, shimmering with a soft white light, quietly emerged.
It was a solution.
A crazy thought, or perhaps an instinctive impulse, seized hold of Jin Wanzhao's entire being.
While everyone else was running for their lives, he took a step forward, against the flow of the crowd, walking step by step towards that wailing steel beast.
"Hey! That idiot! Does he have a death wish?!"
"Jin Wanzhao? Has he lost his mind?!"
"Come back! You wanna get blown to pieces?!"
Among the fleeing crowd, someone noticed his suicidal举动 and let out an incredulous shout.
An old worker named Old Zhong, who had already run more than ten meters, heard the shout and instinctively looked back. That one look made him stop in his tracks.
Old Zhong was usually a man of few words, but everyone knew he understood the most; he was among the most senior workers in the Smelting Zone.
At this moment, for the first time, a look of sheer horror appeared in his murky eyes.
He saw no fear on Jin Wanzhao's face, only an almost obsessive focus. His steps weren't fast, but they were remarkably steady, as if he wasn't walking towards death, but heading to an appointment.
Jin Wanzhao reached the stamping press.
A wave of scorching hot air hit him, prickling his exposed skin. The machine's vibration transmitted through the steel plate under his feet, nearly making him lose his balance.
He completely ignored all of this.
He reached out and gently stroked the cold, oil-and-rust-caked exterior, as if calming a wounded beast.
The next second, his palm slammed firmly onto an inconspicuous inspection cover on the side of the machine.
The clear path in his mind instantly transformed into bodily instinct.
His movements were lightning-fast.
He unscrewed three unremarkable pressure relief valves, pulled down two seemingly unrelated emergency brake levers, and finally slapped his palm hard onto an old, almost forgotten backup coolant switch.
This series of actions was fluid and seamless, too fast to follow.
More importantly, this sequence didn't conform to any operating manual; it was sheer madness!
Yet, a miracle happened.
*Psheww——*
A deafening roar, no longer the wail of breaking metal, but the sound of a massive steam vent.
A thick white column of steam shot up from the safety valve on top of the stamping press, carrying immense force straight towards the dome dozens of meters high, perfectly avoiding all the people.
The violent crimson energy seemed to find an outlet and was instantly drained away.
The stamping press's violent trembling subsided visibly. The piercing metallic groans gradually softened, eventually fading into a tired hum, settling into complete silence.
The explosion was prevented.
The entire workshop fell into an eerie, deathly silence.
The workers, who had just been panicking and fleeing, all stopped in their tracks, turning back to stare in disbelief.
They looked at the now-quiet steel beast, then at the solitary, thin figure standing beside it.
Jin Wanzhao leaned against the cold machine casing, panting heavily, his forehead covered in cold sweat.
He looked down at his own hands, his eyes filled with confusion and bewilderment.
Just now... did I do that?
"Heavens... he... he stopped the machine?" a young worker muttered, his voice trembling.
"How is that possible? He's just a handyman! Even senior technicians wouldn't dare get close, how did he do it?"
"Did you see that? The way he moved just now... it was like... like he built this machine himself!"
"A miracle... it's a miracle..."
Whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire. The looks directed at Jin Wanzhao had shifted from initial mockery and confusion to shock, awe, and even a hint of fear.
In the crowd, Old Zhong's body trembled slightly.
Unlike the others who were just shocked by the result, he stared intently at the valves and switches Jin Wanzhao had just operated. The color drained from his face, replaced by a fanatical, incredulous light.
He knew better than anyone that those devices were decades-old models, long since abandoned. Not just ordinary workers, even the designers of the Smelting Zone might not know that combining them could produce such an effect.
Jin Wanzhao... how did he know?
The commotion soon attracted the foreman.
But faced with this bizarre scene, even the foreman was baffled. He circled the shut-down stamping press twice, looked at the unharmed Jin Wanzhao, completely unable to comprehend what had happened.
In the end, he could only curse and report the incident, simultaneously announcing a temporary shutdown of the entire workshop for inspection.
The workers dispersed as if pardoned, but almost everyone couldn't resist turning back for one more look at Jin Wanzhao, still leaning against the machine.
Jin Wanzhao dragged his exhausted body along with the crowd, his mind still blank.
Just as he exited the workshop and turned into a quiet corner filled with discarded parts, a figure suddenly emerged from the shadows, blocking his path.
It was Old Zhong.
This old man, usually as silent as a stone, now had eyes that blazed startlingly bright. He grabbed Jin Wanzhao's arm, his entire hand trembling violently with excitement.
He lowered his voice, as if afraid of disturbing something, each word squeezed out from between his teeth, carrying boundless awe and expectation.
"You... did you hear 'His' voice?"