Ryan sat in his room, a holographic screen of materials provided by Herta floating before him.
It was densely packed with known electromagnetic theories from Canglan Star and across the galaxy.
Some parts he understood—similar enough to Earth’s knowledge.
But most of it was filled with unfamiliar terminology and formulas that clearly violated his understanding, especially that frequently appearing “imaginary internal energy parameter.”
He rubbed his brow, feeling his brain swell.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t read it—it was that two knowledge systems were fighting in his head.
One was Maxwell; the other was this universe’s modified version of Maxwell.
It was like trying to understand the difference between imaginary internal energy and Honkai energy.
“No. I need to sort this out.”
Ryan muttered to himself, the stubborn streak of a researcher rising within him.
He hadn’t flinched when nuked.
He hadn’t flinched at being Herta’s lab mouse.
And he wasn’t about to be defeated by a few math problems.
He closed his eyes, no longer looking at the screen, but carefully recalling that theoretical knowledge about electromagnetic fields and waves that had existed in his mind since the nuclear explosion.
That knowledge felt more like fundamental principles—axioms.
The phenomena of this world were applied problems requiring those axioms to solve.
[Chapter Two: Fundamental Equations of Macroscopic Electromagnetic Fields]
Differential form, integral form, describing how charges produce electric fields, how currents produce magnetic fields, how changing magnetic fields excite electric fields…
the core concepts were the same.
The problem lay in the medium and energy.
The space of this universe seemed to contain an active background energy—what those formulas called imaginary internal energy.
It didn’t do work directly like conventional energy, but it affected the form, propagation, and even interaction of electromagnetic fields.
“So I not only have to manipulate real electric and magnetic fields, but also account for how to utilize or circumvent this background imaginary energy?”
Ryan pondered.
“Is the difficulty setting a bit high?”
He decided to start with the simplest verification.
He extended a finger and attempted to create a stable point-charge electric field at his fingertip—the most basic thing in his original world.
Crackle.
An electric arc flickered, extremely unstable, ionizing the surrounding air molecules.
He could feel something interfering with his constructed field, making it difficult to maintain stability.
It felt like trying to stand a stick upright in a rushing river.
“Is this the interference from imaginary internal energy?” Far from discouraged, Ryan grew more interested.
He loved challenging scientific problems like this.
He recalled the equations for establishing electrostatic fields in a medium from his mind and tried introducing a “correction term” to counteract the interference.
Once, twice, three times…
the electric arc at his fingertip flickered on and off repeatedly.
He adjusted tirelessly, sensing the subtle variations in the interference, searching for that “harmonious point” that could achieve balance with the environment.
Finally, after who knew how long, a small orb of static electricity radiating soft white light appeared at his fingertip—stable, no longer flickering, no longer crackling, hovering silently.
“Success!” Ryan’s heart leaped, and he almost lost control.
He carefully observed the electrostatic orb.
Though insignificant, its significance was enormous.
It proved his approach was correct—the knowledge in his mind was a higher-order principle that could guide his safe use of abilities in this universe.
Just then, the door slid open, and a small Herta doll poked her head in, saying in a flat voice: “Madam Herta summons you to Laboratory Three.”
The doll turned to leave.
“Wait!” Ryan instinctively tried to stop her, wanting to test his new achievement.
The electrostatic orb at his fingertip hadn’t dissipated yet.
He tried to “transfer” it to the doll.
However, maintaining a stable electrostatic field and dynamically transferring it were two completely different things.
His concentration wavered, and the electrostatic orb instantly destabilized—pop!—bursting into a harmless static discharge that spread widely.
The effect was immediate.
The little Herta doll froze, and her previously smooth hair puffed up slightly.
Not plastic, apparently.
That was surprising.
The doll turned stiffly, purple eyes fixed on Ryan.
Expressionless, but Ryan somehow felt like she was looking at him like a child playing with mud.
“What… did you do?”
“Uh… testing ambient static levels. Seems the humidity’s low—easy to build up static.”
Ryan lied without blinking, hastily dispersing the residual electric field around him.
The doll stared at him suspiciously for a few seconds, then raised her small hand and awkwardly patted down her clothes, trying to smooth her frizzed hair—with limited success.
“Whatever. Follow me.” She gave up on fixing her hair and turned to lead the way, her hair still slightly puffed.
Ryan suppressed a laugh and hurried after her.
This ability, besides serious research, clearly had some unexpected entertainment potential.
In Laboratory Three, Herta herself wasn’t present—only other dolls were busy working.
The escort doll led Ryan to an empty, pure white area.
“Madam Herta’s instructions: basic environmental adaptability training will take place here. It took considerable time to set up these antiques.”
The doll stepped to the corner and began recording data.
Ryan was confused, but he went with it.
He stood in the center, observing his surroundings.
Suddenly, the metal walls around him lit up, and a magnetic field with constantly changing directions engulfed him.
The field’s strength wasn’t great, but its changes were extremely rapid, making him feel like he’d been stuffed into a high-speed spinning drum.
Dizziness and disorientation hit instantly, and he struggled to stay upright.
“What the hell?!”
Ryan barely maintained his balance, his stomach churning. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
This had to be Herta’s test.
He tried to counter it using his previous method of manipulating gravitational vectors, but in this complex, ever-changing environment, his crude control was nowhere near sufficient.
Then, the field type abruptly switched—now a high-frequency alternating electric field, stimulating his skin and nerves with waves of tingling and stinging.
Ryan immediately changed tactics, recalling the principles of electrostatic shielding.
He tried to construct a counter-electric field layer on his body’s surface.
This required extremely high precision and speed because the external field was constantly changing.
He failed countless times, his body convulsing from electric shocks.
But he didn’t give up.
Gritting his teeth, he continuously adjusted the strength and phase of his own field.
Gradually, his shielding layer became more and more effective.
While it couldn’t completely neutralize the external field, most of the discomfort faded.
Outside the field, the recording doll’s data panel showed energy fluctuation curves transitioning from violently oscillating to progressively more regular patterns.
After an unknown length of time, all fields disappeared.
The laboratory returned to calm.
Ryan gasped for breath, drenched in sweat, feeling more exhausted than if he’d run a marathon—but his eyes were exceptionally bright.
He’d successfully adapted to this extreme environment through knowledge and willpower alone.
At that moment, Herta’s voice crackled through the laboratory’s speakers.
“You have some intuition, at least. Didn’t try to brute-force your way through the entire simulation. Most people would have smashed the equipment by now.”
The broadcast paused before continuing: “Data recorded. Before the next test, go to the library section. Access has been granted. Read more—it might help.”
Ryan wiped the sweat from his face, breathing a sigh of relief.
Despite the heavy criticism, he’d cleared the first hurdle.
And he’d gained library access—meaning he could study this world’s knowledge more systematically and cross-reference it with the theories in his mind.
Leaving the lab, he noticed the escort doll still in the corner, her hair still not fully smoothed down.
Several other Herta dolls were helping comb it with a tiny brush.
But Ryan soon discovered a problem.
He’d played with static electricity so much that even the lab’s least sensitive transport dolls were now avoiding him.
That was…
disappointing.
He needed new tricks.
He sat in the break area, Herta’s data pad open before him, displaying foundational energy field theory.
But his mind was elsewhere—on a different knowledge system, one from another world, etched into his soul.
“Static fields are fundamental, but too static,” he muttered, unconsciously tracing lines in the air with his finger.
“Moving electricity creates magnetism… steady currents, steady magnetic fields…”
He closed his eyes, trying to recall the complex formulas and models.
Parts of Maxwell’s equations surfaced clearly, but how to apply them in a world with subtly different physical rules was the question.
“Whatever. Let’s just try.”
He found a quiet corner with some unused equipment and materials.
He decided to attempt actively creating a stable magnetic field rather than just manipulating existing environmental fields.
He extended his palm and concentrated, trying to construct a model of a stable current loop above his hand.
According to theory, this should produce a magnetic field encircling the loop.
First attempt: he focused too much on simulating the current and neglected the energy supply.
Only a few scattered sparks appeared above his palm.
The nearby magnetic needle didn’t move.
“Energy… needs continuous energy flow to sustain this virtual current.” He scratched his head.
“The ambient radiation is too weak and chaotic. Need to focus it somehow.”
He recalled the imaginary energy parameters from his earlier static experiments.
He didn’t fully understand their nature, but Herta’s materials mentioned that certain substances could better couple with imaginary energy.
He rummaged through the material pile and found several pieces of what Herta had labeled “low-efficiency imaginary conductors.” They looked like dull crystals.
“Low-efficiency is better than nothing.” He picked up a crystal in each hand and tried again.
This time, he diverted part of his attention to guiding the invisible, intangible imaginary energy from the environment through the crystals, converting it into energy to sustain the “virtual current loop” above his palm.
Hum…
A faint hum arose.
The air above his palm seemed to distort slightly.
A small magnetic needle on the nearby lab bench twitched violently, its pointer slowly deflecting before settling firmly in the direction of his palm.
“Success!” Ryan almost shouted.
He carefully maintained the energy output and loop formation.
The magnetic needle remained stubbornly fixed on him, as if he held a magnet in his hand.
But his hand was empty—nothing but a constrained energy field.
“This is the power of science!” He was ecstatic, dying to show someone.
But looking around, there were only a few cleaning dolls working silently.
He tried moving his palm.
The needle followed, always pointing toward the magnetic center above his hand.
“Hehe, fun (●’◡’●)”
His playful side took over.
He began experimenting with different “virtual loop” shapes—circle, square, figure-eight.
The needle swung wildly, straining to track the changing field direction.
“Precision’s still lacking…” He found that anything more complex than a simple shape made the field unstable, and the needle jittered badly.
Just then, a small Herta doll walked by carrying a tray, apparently delivering parts somewhere.
She didn’t even glance at Ryan.
Ryan’s eyes lit up with a mischievous grin.
He secretly adjusted the magnetic field above his palm, shaping it into an extremely thin, elongated magnetic force line, and aimed it at a tiny metal screw on the doll’s tray.
The screw trembled slightly, then—zing!—jumped off the tray and stuck to the doll’s metal arm joint.
The doll stopped, looking down at the extra screw on her arm. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
Her small head tilted, apparently unable to comprehend.
She reached out with her other hand to pull the screw off, but it was firmly attached.
She tried shaking her arm—the screw didn’t budge.
She tried prying it off with her tiny fingers—still stuck.
The doll seemed to be getting annoyed, slapping at her arm harder, producing clicking sounds.
The screw remained obstinately in place.
Finally, the doll gave up.
And then she simply detached her own hand, placed it on the tray, and continued walking.
“…”
Was that…
slightly horrifying?
Playtime over, he resumed his research.
Maintaining a strong magnetic field was draining, and he could feel his mental energy flagging.
He dispersed the field above his palm, and the magnetic needle returned to normal.
“Need to improve efficiency. Can’t keep brute-forcing it myself.”
He stared at the two dull crystals.
“If I could make a small device that automatically absorbs energy from the environment and maintains a magnetic field…”
The thought excited him.
He immediately began rummaging through the material pile—wires, insulators, and several pieces of different imaginary material scraps.
He had no precision tools, only his fingers and electromagnetic fields for rough fabrication and connection.
He sketched out a simple energy collection and magnetic field generation circuit in his mind.
The core concept: use the imaginary materials as energy converters to collect ambient radiation, then use his designed “virtual coil” to generate a stable magnetic field.
The entire device required no physical coils—the energy field’s own configuration would simulate them.
The idea was bold, even fanciful.
He sat on the floor, fully focused on “building.” He used electromagnetic fields to guide materials into position, make connections, and adjust energy flow paths.
Sweat dripped from his forehead.
Several times the energy flow went wrong, causing small arcs and nearly burning the materials.
But he refused to give up.
He loved this challenge—the process of turning theory into reality.
“Here… coupling coefficient’s off… need to introduce a phase delay…”
He muttered to himself, constantly adjusting the energy field parameters based on the knowledge in his mind.
After an unknown stretch of time, a palm-sized device—a messy jumble of crystals and wires that looked ready to fall apart—sat before him.
He took a deep breath and carefully activated it.
The imaginary material at the device’s center glowed faintly.
The surrounding air began to stir.
A stable magnetic field radiated outward from the device.
The nearby magnetic needle deflected again, pointing at this crude contraption.
It worked.
Without Ryan’s continuous power supply, it was drawing meager energy from the environment and maintaining a constant magnetic field on its own.
“I really am a genius.”
Ryan stared at the rough but independently functioning device, overwhelmed with accomplishment.
At that moment, the laboratory door slid open, and Herta walked in with a scholarly-looking middle-aged man.
They seemed to be discussing some project.
“…so regarding stable containment of that material, we still need to address the magnetic field fluctuation issue…”
The scholar said, his gaze casually sweeping the lab before landing on Ryan—specifically, on the small device at Ryan’s feet that was spontaneously generating a magnetic field.
The scholar’s voice died.
He adjusted his glasses, his face showing surprise and intense interest.
“Madam Herta, is that…?” The scholar pointed at Ryan’s device.
“A miniaturized, self-powered magnetic field generator? Energy source is… ambient radiation? That’s a very novel design approach!”
Herta also saw the device and the magnetic needle pointing at it.
Her purple eyes glanced at Ryan.
“Oh, that.” She dismissed it casually.
“Just a little toy made on a whim. Testing energy conversion efficiency. Unstable, no practical value.”
With a few light words, she diverted the scholar’s curiosity back to their original discussion.
The scholar, still curious, glanced at the device a few more times before following Herta deeper into the laboratory.
Once they were far enough away, Herta’s voice came through the speakers in Ryan’s area—flat but brooking no argument:
“Put away that unstable toy of yours. And remember—until you create something genuinely valuable, don’t show off your… little crafts in front of unrelated people.”
Ryan looked at the device he’d poured his heart into, then at the direction Herta had gone, and pouted.
“‘Little craft’? This is a prototype for a revolutionary energy utilization model.”
He grumbled quietly, feeling slighted.
But he obediently powered down the device, dismantled it, and returned the materials to their place.
He knew Herta was right.
Before he had sufficient strength, prematurely exposing his special abilities wasn’t wise.
He stared at the scattered materials, his stubborn spirit burning even brighter.
“Just wait. Next time I’ll make a planetary-scale magnetic field. Then you’ll see the power of scien—”
His stomach growled loudly.
“—ce.” He rubbed his belly.
“Let’s eat first.”
Science was important.
But so was eating.
He stood and floated toward the kitchen, already designing the next, even more impressive “little craft” in his head.