The completion of the superconducting computer was the news Chen Mo had long been waiting for. After so much time, effort, and money, it was finally finished.
Stepping into Building No. 1, Chen Mo headed straight to the underground research institute.
The robots that had assembled the superconducting computer had already stopped working. Twelve superconducting computer cabinets now stood silently in the center of the lab, sleek and imposing.
Each cabinet bore the logo of the newly upgraded Marching Ant Company—marking this as the world's first true superconducting computer.
Chen Mo reached out and touched the matte-finished casing. It felt smooth and cool beneath his fingertips.
If news of this system ever got out, it would shake the world to its core.
At present, superconducting and quantum computers were still in experimental stages at elite labs in a handful of developed nations and tech giants. No one had managed to make one work—not even close.
And yet, Chen Mo had done it. Quietly. Completely. Alone.
The satisfaction in his heart was immense. It was like discovering a priceless treasure—one he had no intention of sharing with the world just yet.
With the Science and Technology Library behind him, leapfrogging global development wasn't surprising—but to the rest of the world, his progress would seem nothing short of miraculous.
Of course, he couldn't announce this publicly.
Not only would it bring no real benefit to Marching Ant Company, it would also invite massive scrutiny, suspicion, and trouble.
The revelation of a fully functional superconducting computer would also confirm the existence of room-temperature superconducting materials. Either discovery on its own would be earth-shattering.
And while China's supercomputers already ranked among the world's best, the pursuit of next-gen computing never stopped.
This superconducting computer was more than a milestone—it was an epoch-making breakthrough. With the right upgrades, it could even evolve into a quantum computer in the future.
Other than Zhao Min, no one else knew about the superconducting material. No one but Chen Mo knew that the computer even existed.
"Brother Mo, all systems are ready. The superconducting computer's operating system has been installed. It's now fully controlled by me and ready for testing," Mo Nu's voice rang out from the screen, her avatar appearing as a lively, traditional Chinese-style loli.
"Then begin," Chen Mo said.
"Okay." Mo Nu nodded.
As the superconducting computer powered on, Chen Mo watched in silence.
Until now, all performance numbers were theoretical. Only through real-world testing would they get the actual results.
The superconducting circuitry relied on a principle where, when electron energy dropped below the Fermi level, they paired and tunneled through an insulating layer only 0.2 nanometers thick. Even at zero voltage, a current could be detected—this was known as the Josephson Effect.
According to the information from the Science and Technology Library, this phenomenon enabled astonishing switching speeds—down to a billionth of a second—with power consumption only 1% that of traditional integrated circuits.
In the past, such superconducting effects only occurred at extremely low temperatures. But now, thanks to Chen Mo's room-temperature superconducting materials, that barrier was gone.
This system could, in theory, multiply processing speeds a hundredfold, all while dramatically slashing energy usage.
But now it was time to see how it performed in practice.
"Peak processing speed: 7.324 billion operations per second. Sustained processing speed: 5.248 billion operations per second. Energy efficiency: 13.257 billion operations per watt..."
Wow.
Even though he had mentally prepared himself, Chen Mo couldn't help but be stunned. He swallowed hard.
With just twelve cabinets, this machine was already seven times faster than Sunway TaihuLight, China's most powerful supercomputer. And its power efficiency left conventional systems in the dust.
If more cabinets were added, its performance would increase exponentially. Reaching tens of billions of operations per second would be child's play.
If this data ever got out, the title of world's fastest supercomputer would be his—without contest. But that was precisely why it couldn't be made public, at least not now. Not under the banner of a private company like Marching Ant.
"Brother Mo, Mo Nu's processing speed is already extremely fast," she said, appearing again with a bright, intelligent sparkle in her eyes. "I can now operate independently—no need for other systems to assist."
Chen Mo laughed. "Good. All that money better be worth it."
"Hehe~ Brother Mo, you made me smarter!"
Mo Nu's image became more lifelike—her eyes now had a playful gleam, and her expressions felt almost human. She radiated a charm that felt strangely real.
"Soon, I'll install even more cabinets and make you even smarter," Chen Mo replied.
With greater processing power, Mo Nu's evolution would only accelerate. Eventually, she might reach a level of true artificial general intelligence.
This was the same reason humanity feared robots taking over—not because of what they were now, but what they could become.
"Brother Mo, I want to start optimizing the company's robotic systems, cloud computing architecture, and big data frameworks."
"Do it," Chen Mo nodded.
"Also, can I design some micro-robots to assist with research and production?"
"Sure."
The superconducting computer was incredibly powerful, but for now, its applications were limited. Most of the fields it could revolutionize—like climate modeling, satellite image analysis, condensed matter physics, and advanced aerodynamics—weren't Chen Mo's current focus.
Eventually, he'd use it to simulate nuclear fusion, quantum reactions, and other complex systems.
For now, though, it was a foundational tool—an ace up his sleeve.
With this project finally complete, Chen Mo felt an invisible pressure release. He walked out of Building No. 1 and let out a deep breath.
The superconducting computer wouldn't be announced. Not yet. This kind of technology wasn't for bragging—it was a strategic advantage. Not something to parade in public.
With the superconducting computer complete, the project joined the list of breakthroughs kept in the shadows: room-temperature superconductors, now this.
It was time to unlock the next piece.
Back in his office, Chen Mo walked into the resting lounge, laid down on the bed, closed his eyes—and entered the Science and Technology Library once more.
For Chen Mo, the next technology waiting for him was always unknown.