Chapter 34: Experiment: Indirect Contact Replication

Every time you make a copy, you must touch it with your hand; although low-enriched uranium radiation is relatively small, it still poses a danger to the human body, and I cannot let you take that risk.

His tone was unprecedentedly solemn.

Xiao Qin, do you know what you mean to the country right now? Not to mention letting you come into contact with radioactive material—even if you just caught a cold and fever, I'd have to write a ten-thousand-word self-criticism! This matter, don't even think about it!

Qin Hao found himself both laughing and crying at his utterly grave demeanor.

Old Cheng, don't get worked up. The radiation intensity of low-enriched uranium is actually low—lower than the dose from a single chest X-ray; wearing professional protective gear can completely block it.

Qin Hao tried to persuade him with scientific reasoning.

Besides, I haven't even tried whether I can copy while wearing gloves.

This idea made Cheng Haitang pause for a moment, his tightly furrowed brows relaxing slightly.

Exactly, would indirect contact work?

The operating principle of the system remains unsolved to this day; Qin Hao is the sole 'manual'.

If copying could be done through a layer of something, the risk would undoubtedly be reduced to a minimum.

You haven't tried it?

No, I haven't—there's never been a need for it normally." Qin Hao spread his hands. "How about we try it now?

Cheng Haitang pondered for a moment; this matter is of great importance, and if it truly works, it would undoubtedly be a shortcut to resolving the current predicament.

He glanced at Qin Hao, then nodded, and immediately picked up the phone, issuing a brief order for the guard to bring something over.

A few minutes later, a guard brought over a brand-new, thick pair of chemical-resistant gloves.

Qin Hao took them and, under Cheng Haitang's nervous gaze, slowly put them on.

The gloves were thick, making the fingertips' sensation somewhat dull.

He glanced around, his eyes landing on the porcelain cup on the coffee table that Cheng Haitang had just drunk from.

That's it.

Qin Hao extended his gloved right hand and grasped the still-warm teacup.

Soon, the familiar system interface appeared before his eyes, and a line of prompt text lit up.

【Detected target: ordinary porcelain teacup, scanning. Consume 2 energy points to copy?】

Success!

Qin Hao felt a surge of joy and, without hesitation, selected 'Yes'.

The next second, an identical cup materialized out of thin air on Qin Hao's left hand.

This… it actually works?

Cheng Haitang pointed at the two cups, then glanced at Qin Hao's gloved right hand and exclaimed in delight.

It seems the system recognizes me as a person, not my skin.

Qin Hao took off the gloves, placed the two cups side by side on the coffee table, and spoke in a relaxed tone.

This discovery let Qin Hao himself breathe a sigh of relief.

This means that when he copies certain special items in the future, his safety margin will be greatly increased.

However, after Cheng Haitang's brief surprise, his expression did not relax but became even more torn.

He stared at the gloves, his brows knotted into a wrinkle.

Even so, I still cannot agree.

Why?" Qin Hao asked, now truly puzzled.

Clearly, it's been proven that wearing gloves works, and the risk has already been reduced to a minimum.

How can you say there's no risk?

Cheng Haitang's voice rose a few notches: 'What if the protective suit suffers an invisible tear during operation?'

What if uranium dust is inhaled through the respiratory tract? What if… in short, there are countless 'what-ifs'! As long as there is any theoretical risk, it's not allowed!

In his view, Qin Hao's safety is absolute; any possible risk, even if the probability is one in a billion, must be eliminated.

The nation's future cannot be gambled.

Qin Hao was completely at a loss; he realized that reasoning with Cheng Haitang was futile.

This guy, when it comes to his own safety, has gone a bit mad; he's practically an obstinate old fossil.

Old Cheng, right now they've put a knife to our throats, giving away billions every year for free and still being strangled—can you swallow that?

Even if you can't swallow it, you have to! Because we still lack sufficient strength; self-defense is fine, but directly confronting the Eagle Sauce is still far off.

Cheng Haitang held his neck stiff and continued:

Money can be earned again; if strategic materials are lost, we can think of other ways. But if something happens to you, where would we find another Qin Hao?

I…

Qin Hao was left speechless by his retort.

The two stared at each other, deadlocked on the sofa for half a day, neither able to convince the other.

One felt it was for the national interest, the other felt it was to protect the national treasure; their positions differed, but their intentions were both good.

This atmosphere became somewhat awkward.

After wrangling for a while, Qin Hao sighed and decided to change his approach.

All right, all right.

He waved his hand, 'We can't even settle the order of the earthly branches here.'

This matter isn't something we can decide; how about we go see the Rote Commissioner?

Report the situation to him and see what he says.

Qin Hao kicked the ball out.

He clearly understood that Cheng Haitang was concerned about his personal safety, but someone like Luo Rui Xiang would inevitably be considering the nation's overall strategic situation.

Between national interests and personal risk, he would make a more macro‑level trade‑off.

Hearing the word "commissioner," Cheng Haitang's complexion instantly changed.

How could he not understand Qin Hao's meaning?

If this multiple‑choice question were placed before the other side—

One side is being extorted for hundreds of billions each year, the entire nuclear‑strategic program being hamstrung,

The other side is letting the nation's heavy weapon, "theoretically absolutely safe," take a one‑in‑a‑hundred‑million risk to solve the problem.

How would the Rote Commissioner choose?

The answer was almost obvious.

Cheng Haitang's heart was torn; he didn't want Qin Hao to take any risk, yet he could not deny that Qin Hao's proposal was currently the best way to break the deadlock.

Letting him report would be equivalent to personally handing over his own bottom line for them to adjudicate.

Looking at Qin Hao's expression that seemed to say "If you don't agree, go yourself," Cheng Haitang felt his blood pressure rise.

He leaned on the sofa, closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, as if to expel all the entanglement and helplessness from his body.

Finally, he opened his eyes and, in a nearly exhausted tone, squeezed out a few words between his teeth.

"Fine then… I'll arrange it."

By the time Qin Hao and the other person found Old Luo, it was already the afternoon of the second day.

This meeting was not in a conference room but in Old Luo's residence.

What surprised Qin Hao was that Old Luo's residence was not the imagined gilded splendor,

but an ordinary traditional courtyard house, with blue bricks and gray tiles, a few crabapple and pomegranate trees in the courtyard, exuding simplicity.

In the living room, sunlight filtered through the wooden lattice windows onto the tea table; besides Old Luo, his partner Zhang Yunfeng was also there.