The solar system is broken

Cleaning up the battlefield is a very professional job, carrying corpses and replenishing guns.

Clean the houses one by one to prevent enemies from hiding.

This is a very meticulous job, with hundreds of soldiers entering in groups of three and one after another.

From the bridge, Huo Shan could faintly see the soldiers, crouching and passing by the broken window.

The soldiers planted a black flag on the roof of the seven-man general's office building, and the war was over.

"Chrissy, you have a talent."

"What is that, teacher?"

"A natural gift for command."

The greatest military strategist was not born in the academy, but grew up in the most brutal war. He started in the army and became a god by killing all the way.

"Teacher, are you mocking me?"

"You can't achieve a career if you care about shame," Huo Shan patted Krissy on the shoulder, "I'm serious, you did it perfectly this time."

The sunlight spreads bit by bit, shattering half of the visible dark clouds in the sky.

The light of the city is constantly appearing, and the sky is dawning.

Huo Shan felt warm, the water on his body was evaporating, and his hair was slowly drying.

"Teacher, I'm leaving."

Chrissy stood up.

A rebellious soldier walked up to him and pressed his arm.

"Soon you will know what we have done?" Huo Shan supported his right hand and looked into the infinite distance.

There was a vast white mist lingering on the top of the mountain.

Baoquan Mountain and Zishan Mountain stick together quietly, like the index finger and the middle finger.

[Citizens~ I am General Corando, don’t be nervous...]

[The rebel plot has been bravely foiled by our defenders, and our city has returned to normal...]

[Actively cooperate with our army’s search and arrests...]

[Citizens please maintain confidence and we will restore tranquility.]

The loudspeaker sounded.

At the scheduled time, the broadcast begins.

It was said so grandly.

"We are rebels..." Chrissy sneered, "Teacher, is this what you call justice?"

Huo Shan didn't answer, he kept staring in Zishan's direction.

"take away!"

Loudspeakers broadcast Korando's voice in a loop, in every corner of the city.

...

"Quick, quick, quick!"

"Block the streets, set up checkpoints, everyone speed up!"

The rebels lined up neatly and started from the municipal building. They marched along three main roads towards the edge of the city.

Before reaching a fork in the road, the team was missing two people.

They carried rifles and placed barricades on the streets.

"Kakaka~"

The sound of military boots filled the alley.

The soldiers at the city gate moved the sandbags into the doorway.

Clamp the machine gun and pull up the barbed wire. (Medieval city wall)

Everything was going on in such an orderly manner.

The blood of this city was gently cut open by checkpoints one by one.

Citizens looked at the mud-yellow soldiers on the street in horror from their windows.

The soldiers waved friendly, but they were at a loss.

The city without the sound of gunfire has not returned to calm. On the contrary, it is like a wound that still needs to be healed.

"General."

"What's going on?" Huo Shan stepped on the bridge with his right foot, his right hand hanging on his right knee, a pistol in his hand, and his eyes narrowed into a slit.

"General, you're ready."

"Huh~"

Huo Shan breathed a long sigh of relief and nodded, "Let's go."

"yes!"

The place Huo Shan wants to go is naturally Zishan Cemetery.

Basically all the blue-blooded people gathered there, and as the actual controller of the entire city, he needed to control these people.

...

...

"Mr. Chicken Legs, are you sure this is feasible?" Dora looked at the chalk words on the wall, and the smile on her face froze.

"Don't call me Mr. Chicken Legs."

There is a series of numbers written on the blackboard, the largest one is a water molecule model. There are two hydrogen atoms, one oxygen atom, and functional groups are annotated next to it.

The following is a formula for buoyancy, f buoyancy = v displacement * p water * g

But g is not my common 9.8m/s, but a brand new number 7.89m/s.

This acceleration was corrected by Dura. It can also be seen from the side that the Wrangler is slightly less massive than the Blue Star.

This is not a problem.

Below is a graph of the change in temperature and volume of water per cubic meter. It is very rough and has a broken line.

20℃998kg, 50℃988kg, 90℃965kg...

This data is very inaccurate because it does not have a pressure constant.

"You need to measure this volume directly with instruments," the writer clicked on the line chart. "This is Blue Star's data. In view of the accuracy requirements, it is best to do it again."

The diameter of water molecules is 0.4 nanometers. In theory, using water as a scale, an accurate value of nearly 4 decimal digits can be obtained.

One micron is equal to 1000 nanometers.

Then there was a sketch, the graphic device was exactly that, the double beat film design.

The writer filled in the gaps with shadows, and then wrote the Chinese character water with an arrow diagonally next to it.

"The buoyancy of a liquid has nothing to do with its depth or depth. It is only related to the volume and mass of the liquid displaced by the object."

The writer copied Archimedes' buoyancy formula again and marked the sketch with chalk.

This is the choir classroom, and there is a piano next to it.

Below are several benches, usually used as classrooms.

There are no specialized institutions for education in this world, and all teaching is conducted in churches.

This classroom is very narrow and can only accommodate about a dozen people.

Sitting under the stage was Han Ling'er with a broken head, and Xiao Li on her knees, hanging out her tongue, drooling, and sleeping soundly.

Dora held her chin with her right hand and frowned as she looked at the writer's sketch. He honestly didn't expect that the distance could be measured with water.

"Your inner slice weighs 0.5kg," the writer continued.

"If that doesn't work, we can also use counterweights. With calculations, we can easily figure out the amount of drainage, and then control the temperature and air pressure to solve the water depth."

Dora still said nothing.

This graphic is really weird.

The two square metal boxes have a very large bottom area and a very small height. The bottom surfaces are only a few microns apart, and then water is injected into them to make them float.

The displaced water is almost invisible because there are micron-level gaps on its sides.

"It's too abstract. It's theoretically feasible." Indie finally spoke slowly.

"Give me the money." The writer threw the chalk away. Since he agreed, he would give him the money.

This is the power of knowledge. A glass of water solves the problem of accuracy.

"this..."

Dora regretted it a little. The writer exchanged a glass of water for their 20,000 general currency. This money was so profitable.

"Mr. Dora," the writer smiled.

"Okay." Dora shrugged, took out a checkbook from the slit of his underwear, filled in 2w with a pen, and signed his name, Rock Dora.

The writer took the check, kissed it gently, and flicked it again and again with his fingers.

"You seem to like money very much?!" Dora twisted the pen cap and gently put the checkbook back into her underwear pocket.

"My dream is to live in a high-end home," the writer smiled and put the check in his arms.

"What is that?"

Dora's understanding of the term squatting at home is still very shallow.

"It's just an extremely simple state of life." I don't bother to explain it, lest I be looked down upon, so why bother?

"Are all Chinese people's pursuits so ordinary?"

"Uh... I can't say it's all about this."

In two hours, the writer earned 20,000 yuan. Isn’t this wonderful?

Dora looked at the writer's smile that stretched to the back of his head and was speechless. For the first time, he saw the power of infinity.

"Mr. Chicken Legs, don't you consider joining our institute?" Dora decided...

The writer shook his head and said that with a little wisdom, he was still confident, but when it came to designing in the technical field, he was an idiot.

"Are you a customs selector?" Dora thought of the information she had read before coming here.

"Um."

“Only 2k a month?”

"..."

Are you polite? Did I ask you about your grades? You asked me about my salary.

"An ordinary researcher gets 4k a month."

"Wori~"

4k is incredible. As mentioned before, the purchasing power of general currency is scary. This 2k is on Blue Star. Basically, to convert it into RMB, you need to add a zero and multiply it by a constant.

"What do researchers do?"

"Research weapons, rockets, and some general objects."

...

The salary is very attractive, but it has nothing to do with being a writer.

"Can I fish?"

"Maybe it's not possible," Dora understood the word "fishing" and was a little surprised by the writer.

"Then what should I do?"

"Help us solve the problem."

"What are the problems?" The writer's heart trembled.

"Poincaré's conjecture, Hodge's conjecture, Riemann hypothesis..."

"Stop, stop, stop! How about the name of the dish?"

Needless to say, the writer can't solve any of them.

These problems are all 21st century mathematical problems with a millennium reward. If you solve one, you will get 2.5 million US dollars.

If nothing else, just talk about a thousand-year reward, can a layman kill it?

The imagination of these questions is as big as a black hole, take the Riemann Hypothesis as an example.

The frequency of prime numbers is closely related to the behavior of a carefully constructed so-called Riemann Zeitar function z(s). All meaningful solutions to the equation z(s)=0 lie on a straight line, which is true for every meaningful

The solutions are all valid, which will shed light on many mysteries surrounding the distribution of prime numbers.

To put it bluntly, it means stringing together prime numbers to express them as a simple expression.

The Riemann hypothesis has been verified with 15,000 prime numbers. However, the prime numbers are infinite and are simply a bottomless pit.

What kind of intention did Dora have in giving this kind of mathematical problem to a writer?

"Is there any simple one?"

"Asymmetry of matter and antimatter and dark energy in the universe, gamma-ray bursts in the depths of the universe, and anomalous viscosity in astrophysical accretion disks."

....

"Celestial giant flares and gravitational magneto generators, probes of quantum gravity: black hole physics, extremely high-energy universe..."

The writer's face is darker than the bottom of the pot. Why is this bowl of rice so unpalatable?

They have already figured out the physics of black holes, but Blue Star doesn’t even understand that stuff. If you come from a pre-industrial civilization era and take it out, doesn’t your heart hurt?

"I think it would be better for me to go for 2k. The Riemann hypothesis is too hard and my teeth are not good."

Dora shrugged and said with great regret, "Actually, I also want to work with you, but..."

"Let's see what you can do," the writer curled his lips. Science students are amazing, right?

Dora closed her eyes and looked proud.

"I'm treating you tonight, let's go poke some fun," the writer put his hand on Dora's neck, and the dog smiled slyly, "You reveal something to me and let me get some benefits."

The era of industrial civilization is far lower than the era of writers. As long as you make some random things, you can still live without worrying about food and clothing.

"hey-hey!"

Just when Dora wanted to refuse, there was a commotion in the corridor outside.

"Rebel~"

"Get in!"

"Everyone, run!"

...

The frightened crowd clanked and ran through the corridor.

A crackling sound came from a distance.

"??"

duang~

"Ouch!" Xiao Li covered his head and got up from under the table.

I was confused and didn't see it clearly, and another bag was knocked on the table.

It turned out that the scream just now woke up Han Ling'er. She subconsciously put down her legs, and then Xiao Li rolled under the table.

"Woo~"

Xiao Li opened his mouth, and Han Ling'er directly stuffed his fist into Xiao Li's mouth.

Xiao Li struggled and patted Han Ling'er with her hand, and Han Ling'er burst out laughing.

"Everyone come out!"

...

Dora looked at the two girls in a daze.

"They're fun aren't they?"

"Interesting? Well, very interesting."

"Don't you think we should run for our lives at this time?"

"Why are we running away?"

"This is a good question, but I think this soldier is a bit unfriendly."

"friendly?"

"Yes, his skin is dark, and he smells of blood. His patience is undergoing tremendous suffering."

"Hmm, the smell of blood," Dora turned up her nose.

"This way," the writer gently moved Dora's head to the barrel of the gun.

When Dora raised his eyes, he saw a panting soldier holding a 98k to his head.

"I surrender!" Dora raised her hands.

"I don't agree," the writer took Dora's hand down.

"I really surrender," he kicked the writer to the ground.

The soldier blinked, wondering if these two people were funny.

"Put your head in your hands and go to the square!"

Dora obediently obeyed, squatted half-crouched, and went out.

"You!" The rifle was pointed at the writer's head!

"What's wrong with me!"

"Do you want to die?"

"I don't want to," he held his head and walked out the door.

Many people were walking in the corridor just like him.

In the choir room, "Two beautiful ladies, trouble..."

“Sexism!”

"Hurry up!" A gun butt hit the writer on the butt.

"Yes yes yes~"