Chapter 231: Morning Star

The arms testing area of the Northwest Test Field was eerily quiet today.

Thirty-six members of the Dragon Cavalry Guard stood in tactical formation, holding the new silver-gray weapon, the Morning Star individual laser rifle.

The gun is eighty centimeters long, with a streamlined design, seamless throughout, except for a tiny energy indicator light at the grip.

It weighs less than three kilograms, much lighter than a traditional assault rifle.

"Final system self-check." Chen Guang stood on the observation platform, sliding his finger across the tablet.

The status data of each rifle was transmitted back in real time:

Energy supply: 100% (Xuanwu fusion micro battery)

Optical calibration: completed (error ≤0.001 millimeter)

Cooling system: standby (temperature 26℃)

Wang Hao came over: "Guangzi, can this thing really hit a target one kilometer away? To me it looks like a toy gun."

"Whether it works or not, we'll know after we try. Target range ready." Chen Guang said, looking at the tablet.

On the cliff one kilometer away, a hundred targets rose simultaneously.

There were fixed targets, moving targets, and holographic projections simulating enemy troops that would shift direction irregularly, making them the hardest to hit.

The Dragon Cavalry Guard captain ordered over the channel: "All units, attention, free fire, clear all targets within thirty seconds."

All thirty-six members raised their rifles at once.

Only see, one after another, pale blue beams shot from the muzzle, instantly melting a fist-sized hole in the center of each fixed target.

Even the moving targets were precisely hit while changing direction.

Even those holographic projections moving irregularly were extinguished one by one as the beams curved and pursued.

The Morning Star was equipped with a simplified photon path bending module; although not as powerful as the Stabilizing Mountain system, it was sufficient to let the beam slightly deviate within a fifty-meter range.

Twenty-five seconds.

One hundred targets, all cleared.

On the observation platform, the invited army generals had already risen to their feet.

"This... this is too accurate, isn't it?" a senior colonel muttered.

"It's not a matter of accuracy or not," the senior colonel beside him stared at the data screen.

"There is simply no concept of inaccuracy. The system's built-in quantum targeting module automatically calculates trajectory, wind speed, gravity, and even air refractive index."

"The shooter only needs to roughly aim the muzzle in the right direction; the rest is left to the AI."

Chen Guang pulled up detailed data: "At a one-kilometer distance, the average point of impact error is 1.7 millimeters. If shortened to five hundred meters, the error can be controlled within 0.5 millimeters."

Wang Hao whistled: "Isn't this just point-and-shoot? What's the point of marksmanship competitions anymore? Everyone's a sharpshooter!"

"That's exactly the problem." Li Yang walked over.

"Being too accurate means we need to redesign tactics. Concepts like firepower suppression and covering fire in traditional infantry tactics may need adjustment."

Feng Yan stood behind the crowd, watching the team members replace batteries on the field—actually unnecessary, since the micro fusion battery's theoretical lifespan is thirty years, but the test procedure requires strict inspection of every step.

"How's the energy data?" he asked.

Zhao Kaiyuan called up the monitoring chart: "Average energy consumption per shot is only 0.03 kilowatt-hours."

"Based on that data, a fully charged battery would be enough for over fifty thousand consecutive shots, but the barrel cooling system and optical components would reach their limits first."

"How long can the cooling hold up?"

"In continuous fire mode, the barrel temperature reaches critical after three hundred rounds, about two minutes of uninterrupted firing."

"But who would fire continuously for two minutes in actual combat? In normal operational mode, you can fire all day without worrying about overheating."

The test entered the second phase, the opposing exercise.

Twenty-four Blue Army soldiers equipped with Morning Stars faced off against thirty-six Red Army soldiers using conventional firearms.

Of course, the ammunition had been swapped for training laser marking rounds.

The exercise area was a simulated urban ruin, with complex terrain, cover and obstacles everywhere.

As soon as the referee announced the start, the Blue Army dispersed.

In three-person teams, they moved with unbelievable speed, weaving through.

Because the Morning Star has no recoil, shooters can fire accurately while sprinting at full speed.

The moment the Red Army exposed themselves, they were struck down by a beam coming from nowhere.

The most outrageous moment occurred three minutes into the exercise, when a Blue Army soldier leapt from a second-floor window, mid-air, and fired three shots in succession.

The three beams each hit a different Red Army soldier thirty meters away in three different directions.

Landing, rolling, getting up, they continued the advance.

The movements flowed like clouds and water.

"This mobility..." the Special Forces Brigade commander clicked his tongue.

"It completely breaks convention."

Five minutes later, the exercise ended.

The Blue Army suffered zero casualties; the Red Army was wiped out.

It's not that the Red Army didn't try; they simply couldn't hit anything.

The Morning Star's range and precision allowed the Blue Army to pick off targets from a safe distance, while the Red Army's rifles had an effective range of only four hundred meters—too short to even reach.

At the debriefing after the exercise, the Red Army captain wore a grim face: "President Feng, this battle can't be fought."

"We didn't even see anyone before being taken down by a sudden laser blast. If this were actual combat..."

Feng Yan nodded: "That's why we need to adapt in advance. The Dragon Cavalry Guard is the first unit in the entire army to receive the new equipment; your data and experience will guide the revision of subsequent training outlines."

After the meeting dispersed, Wang Hao edged over to Chen Guang: "Guangzi, let me have a go? Just try it!"

Chen Guang glanced at him, took a test version from the box, set it to minimum power: "It can only hit fixed targets."

"Got it!" Wang Hao grabbed the gun and pulled the trigger at the target two hundred meters away.

A blue beam shot out, hitting the bullseye.

"Whoa—this feel…" Wang Hao fired several more shots, and the beams melted a flower pattern onto the target.

"This is insanely steady, right? Even smoother than the air‑gun I used to play with on the roadside as a kid!"

"Because there is zero recoil." Chen Guang took the gun back.

"But that also brings a new problem: soldiers tend to over‑shoot."

"The recoil of conventional firearms makes people subconsciously control their rhythm, whereas the Morning Star lacks that feedback; in testing, someone fired for thirty seconds empty, expending ammo equivalent to five times a standard magazine."

"Isn't that a good thing? The firepower is stronger!"

"It is stronger, but it also reveals the position," Li Yang walked over.

"Even though the laser is silent, its ionization in the air creates a faint blue glow. During continuous fire, the muzzle shines like a flashlight in the dark."

"So you added a rainbow effect?" Wang Hao suddenly thought of something.

Chen Guang's face darkened: "That was your unauthorized test version; I've already deleted it."

"Don't! It's so cool!" Wang Hao protested, "Red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, violet—seven‑color laser! Even warfare can be artistic!"

"Warfare isn't fireworks," Chen Guang said, each word halting.

"Moreover, the rainbow colors reduce the beam's energy density, dropping power by 15%."

"Only 15%! For a flashy effect, that's worth it!"

"That's all you deserve."

The two resumed their banter, and everyone around laughed.

Such daily scenes are nothing new at the Longyin Research Institute.

In the evening, the tech team compiled data in the conference room.

The Morning Star's initial test results far exceeded expectations, yet there were many issues: the cost is exorbitant (each unit costs as much as a main battle tank), the manufacturing process is complex, and maintenance requires specialized equipment…

Chen Guang annotated the report: "First satisfy military demand. The production line is scheduled; next month we can deliver the first batch of three hundred units, prioritizing the Dragon Rider Guard and Special Forces."

Feng Yan looked at the report and suddenly asked, "Any new developments on the Deep Space Signal side?"

Chen Guang switched the screen: "Torch Dragon-3 has completed another round of decoding. We found that the technical data has… a fracture."

"Fracture?"

"The foundational theory is almost complete—mathematics, physics, chemistry are all systematic. There are also many applied technologies, from material processing to energy systems, even planetary environment terraforming," Chen highlighted the knowledge tree.

"But regarding interstellar navigation…"

He enlarged a branch: "Intra‑stellar system navigation technology is comprehensive, from chemical rockets to fusion propulsion, and even preliminary theories of spacetime curvature‑assisted acceleration. But beyond that—"

On the screen, several branches abruptly ended.

Curvature drive, wormhole construction, dimensional jump… the completeness of these technologies is all below 40%, as if they were deliberately cut off.

"They are deliberately limiting us," Chen Guang said.

"They only gave us technologies for rapid development, but not the capability for long‑range voyages."

The conference room fell silent.

Li Yang was the first to react: "Are they afraid we'll run away? Or are they afraid we'll… go find them?"

Chen Guang pulled up an analysis of the hidden information: "Both possibilities may apply. The phrases 'time‑limited' and 'request collaboration' appear over three thousand times in the signal."

"They urgently need help, yet they dare not give us all the cards."

"Are they afraid we'll take the technology and run?" Wang Hao frowned, "That's way too distrustful!"

Zhao Kaiyuan said, "Would you trust it? A strange civilization suddenly receives a full suite of interstellar tech; their first reaction might be to arm themselves, and then… who knows what they'd do."

Feng Yan stared at the truncated technology branches, thoughtful: "So what they gave is a fast‑development package."

"Letting you become powerful quickly, yet not strong enough to break out of the crisis zone."

"What about the Harvesters? If the enemy is truly that terrifying, is this little defense enough?" Li Yang asked.

"So they are also gambling. Betting that a civilization receiving the signal, after mastering these technologies, will not just look after themselves, but will be willing… to give them a hand." Chen Guang pushed his glasses up.

"Or, they're betting that once we become sufficiently strong, we'll wonder why they didn't give higher‑level tech, and then proactively seek answers," Feng Yan said slowly.

Outside the window, the sky had darkened.

The test field lights gradually came on, illuminating the silver casings of the Morning Star laser guns, reflecting a cold, sharp light.

These weapons are powerful enough to change the rules of ground warfare.

But on a cosmic scale, they are still far from sufficient.

Torch Dragon‑3's interface suddenly popped up a new message; Chen Guang opened it, his complexion slightly changing.

"What's wrong?" Li Yang asked.

"Torch Dragon, from the residual signal noise, has decoded another piece of information," Chen Guang turned the screen toward them.

It was a string of mathematical symbols; translated into text it was only one line:

"Do not seek us. Danger."

Below it followed a coordinate, not a specific location but a direction vector.

Torch Dragon‑3 projected it onto the star map; the extending end of that dashed line passed right through the Solar System.

But it does not point to Blue Star.

It points to the Sun.

"What does this mean? They tell us not to look for them, yet give a direction—what's the point?" Wang Hao scratched his head.

Chen Guang quickly operated, having Torch Dragon‑3 simulate that vector's extension within the Milky Way.

After ten seconds, the result appeared.

The path crossed seventeen star systems and finally vanished at the edge of a Milky Way spiral arm, in a region that is an observational blind spot with few stars.

But in the middle section of the path, there is a marker point.

Torch Dragon-3 automatically pulled up the astronomical database, showing that there is a red dwarf star numbered GSC6212-1834 there, about five billion years old, with three planets, none showing signs of life.

"They're telling us the direction of danger, but then saying not to go look?" Li Yang stared at the star map.

"Maybe… that direction is dangerous, but they want us to know where the danger is, so we can prepare in advance." Zhao Gong tapped his pipe, then spoke slowly.

"Or maybe they are in that direction, being chased by danger. Not letting us look is for fear of drawing the danger over." Feng Yan said.

The conference room fell into silence again.

The test report for the Morning Star laser gun still lay spread on the table, the data beautiful as if from a sci-fi novel.

But the signal from deep space pulled everyone back to reality; in this universe, humanity is still just a child who has just learned to walk.

Meanwhile, in the distance, a fierce beast might be approaching.

"Keep decoding. At the same time, accelerate mass production of the Morning Star. Regardless of whether danger comes, we first need to clean up our home before anything else." Feng Yan finally said.

He paused, then looked out the window at the night sky:

"As for whether to go out and have a look… we'll talk about it when we have the ability to go out."

The meeting ended, and everyone dispersed.

Chen Guang remained alone in the control room, watching the dashed line extending into deep space on the Torch Dragon-3 interface.

He called up the communications interface and typed a line:

"We've seen the direction of danger. Are you… still on that road?"

The cursor blinked, but after thinking for a long time Chen Guang still didn't send it.

Finally, he closed the interface.

Some questions still have no answers.