Bright Sword: I built Italian cannons for Li Yunlong

Zhou Zhen paused for a moment, then continued, "I'm also very tired, but this matter can't wait."

"The Japanese won't wait for us to rest before releasing the poison gas. Our soldiers are on the front lines, waiting for our help."

He raised his head and looked at the crowd.

"Factory manager, I'm signing up."

Sun Xing, who was sitting in the corner, was the first to stand up.

He was only nineteen years old and had just been promoted from an apprentice to a full-time worker half a month ago. His hand was still wrapped in bandages from a machine cut a few days ago.

Old Li next to him paused for a moment, then also raised his hand:

"I'm signing up too."

Master Han put the tobacco pipe he had picked up on the table and said in a muffled voice, "Count me in."

"I."

"And me too."

"Factory manager, I'm willing to stay up all night, count me in."

The sounds grew more numerous and louder.

At first there were only a few scattered ones, but then they gradually connected into a whole.

Like a tiny spark, it gradually began to spread.

Zhou Zhen stood there, watching this scene, his eyes slightly moist, his heart surging with emotion as if a flame were burning within him.

These are our soldiers, our people.

"Comrades, the Japanese poison gas is terrible, but as long as we are well prepared, we will definitely be able to defeat it," Zhou Zhen said loudly.

"Old Zhao, please have someone register the comrades who have signed up."

Zhao Dajiang responded and turned to run into the crowd.

Zhou Zhen was still standing on the steps.

The night wind blew in from the mountain pass, carrying the lingering chill of early spring.

He belatedly realized that the back of his shirt was soaked with sweat.

After half an hour, Zhao Dajiang finally registered all the workers who were willing to sign up.

"Comrades, quiet down." Zhou Zhen pressed his hands down, waiting for the noise to subside.

He took out an item he had prepared beforehand—a Japanese military-issue gas mask.

"This is the Japanese gas mask. The reason they were so ruthless in using poison gas on our land is because they knew we couldn't make either poison gas bombs or gas masks."

"Let me say it again: we are no less intelligent than the Americans and Japanese. If they can make it, we can definitely make it too."

"Especially the Japanese, they thought we couldn't build it, so we were determined to build it and show them."

He held the rubber mask and filter canister up so everyone could see them.

"I know none of us have ever built one before, so we're all unsure."

"Don't rush, let's break this down and explain it clearly today. Once the principles are understood, the work will be much easier."

He pointed to the different parts of the mask: "Look, this thing is mainly divided into three parts."

The headgear is a rubber mask, and these are two eyepieces made of glass.

The most crucial part is this round canister at the bottom, which is called a filter canister.

Whether or not toxic gas can be inhaled into our lungs depends entirely on it.

Zhou Zhen unscrewed the filter canister and weighed it in his hand: "This canister is the core we're going to build. It contains a kind of granular material called 'activated carbon'."

Poisonous gas trying to pass through it is like muddy water trying to pass through fine gauze; the water can pass through, but the mud and sand cannot.

Activated charcoal is like that layer of "gauze"—it has tiny pores invisible to the naked eye that specifically trap toxic gases, allowing clean air to pass through.

An experienced craftsman stared at the jar, lost in thought.

"Factory manager, are you saying that as long as we produce this 'activated carbon' and put it in the canisters, we can protect ourselves from the Japanese poison gas?"

So the most crucial thing is this lump of black charcoal?

"Yes, Master Li hit the nail on the head," Zhou Zhen affirmed.

"Other parts of the gas mask can be replaced by other means."

For example, face masks can be made of treated rubber or soft leather, and goggles can be made of mica instead of glass.

The only irreplaceable component is this core black charcoal lump; it must be manufactured domestically.

"I've already asked headquarters to find a way to procure rubber and mica."

"As for the most difficult and crucial part, I volunteered to leave it to our arsenal. This is going to be a tough battle."

As soon as he finished speaking, the workers in the workshop straightened their backs.

"Factory Director, what you're saying is ridiculous. Apart from our Huangyadong Arsenal, who else in the entire base area could possibly overcome this challenge?" An old craftsman put down the wrench in his hand on the table and said in a tone of self-assurance.

"Exactly," several people nearby echoed.

"Since the factory manager has left this toughest battle to us, we absolutely cannot let him down. We must win this battle."

The workers expressed their attitude and determination, and Zhou Zhen nodded heavily, feeling a surge of pride welling up inside him.

"Good, comrades, you're right. Let's make this thing and get it to our comrades on the front lines before the Japanese make a move."

"But factory manager..." Just then, a young worker in the crowd scratched the back of his head and stepped forward with a puzzled look on his face.

"What's the difference between this activated charcoal and the lumps of charcoal we burn in our stove? Aren't they both charcoal?"

"Good question." Zhou Zhen's eyes lit up, and he patted the young man's shoulder approvingly.

He was prepared for this, so he turned around, walked to the blackboard, picked up the chalk, and began to draw and explain.

"They all look like charcoal, but the insides are completely different."

"Ordinary carbon has few pores and cannot absorb much impurity."

He drew two squares, one solid and the other covered with tiny dots.

"Activated carbon is called activated carbon because it has an additional 'activation' process."

"Simply put, it involves first burning hardwood into good charcoal, then putting the charcoal into a specially made furnace and 'biting' it with high-temperature steam."

"Bite?" The workers looked at each other in bewilderment.

Seeing the puzzled looks on everyone's faces, Zhou Zhen used a more vivid analogy to explain.

"You can imagine that ordinary charcoal is like a solid steamed bun."

"Activation, on the other hand, involves allowing countless invisible steam particles to gradually create a dense network of tiny pores inside the steamed bun."

"A steamed bun that has been eaten still looks like a steamed bun, but inside it is full of holes, and its absorption capacity is dozens or even hundreds of times stronger. This process is called activation."

"Oh! So that's how it is, using steam to 'grill' out the holes." The workers suddenly realized, looked at each other, and finally had a general idea of ​​the activation process.

Zhou Zhen walked to the blackboard, picked up the chalk, and said, "To make steam generate these fine pores, we need a device—a steam activation furnace."

"So, factory manager, what does the steam activation furnace look like?" someone asked eagerly.

Upon hearing this, Zhou Zhen paused, his hand holding the chalk pausing for a moment. After a brief silence, a helpless, bitter smile appeared on his face.

"Unfortunately, I don't know what that steam activation furnace looks like either."

"Ah! Factory manager, is there anything in this world you don't know?"

The crowd erupted in uproar.