Chapter 25: Full-Spectrum Interference

"Full-spectrum jamming" is a form of electronic interference technology.

Given the vast number of signal communication frequencies, conventional jamming requires first identifying the specific frequency band and then applying narrow-field directional interference. In other words, it is a two-stage process of "locating the band" followed by "executing directional interference."

As the name implies, "full-spectrum jamming" abandons this directional approach, acting directly across the entire spectrum—essentially relying on brute force to perform a miracle. The problem, however, lies in the nature of this approach: when interference is spread across the entire spectrum, the intensity is severely diluted. It is like the difference between a drop of ink in a fishbowl versus a pond—in the latter, it becomes nearly invisible.

Under these circumstances, against the backdrop of engineering advancements that have granted radar, communicators, and other devices increasingly powerful anti-interference capabilities, traditional full-spectrum jamming has become largely meaningless. Of course, one could theoretically stack output efficiency regardless of cost, pushing it to the level of a "solar storm" (coronal mass ejection), but the cost-effectiveness is so absurd that it is rarely considered.

But this is precisely where the genius of Atart Studios comes in!

By utilizing a specific technology, they significantly increased the interference intensity at the cost of reducing the effective operational range of the full-spectrum jammer. Song Shi does not fully understand the technical principles, but he knows the general analogy: Atart Studios forces the full-spectrum jamming to resonate and echo repeatedly within a contained area, much like ocean waves rolling back and forth, constantly accumulating massive potential energy. Through this "reciprocal stacking," the interference intensity is dramatically amplified.

The drawback, of course, is the reduced effective range. The "Atart Ring" in Amikaba’s hand—one of the few first-generation products from the studio—has a range of only about twenty meters in radius. After all, if the range were too large, the "interference" would be diluted before it could ever accumulate.

But it is still powerful enough.

If he can obtain this "full-spectrum jammer," he could largely compensate for his shortcomings in electronic warfare, or even use it to cause physical damage to an enemy's hardware.

"Since you’ve already recognized it, I won’t bother with the explanations," Amikaba said, gripping the black box. "When Atart Studios first released these, Zero-Degree Network acquired them, so there are very few left on the market now."

"This is a rare treasure." Amikaba flashed a smile, shaking his head. "The price you just offered is nowhere near enough."

Song Shi then smiled as well.

"If it were truly a price I couldn't afford, you wouldn't have brought it out." Song Shi pulled up a chair and sat down, speaking leisurely. "There are two possibilities. The first is that you want to do charity and are dropping the price... but I suspect that’s impossible."

Song Shi gestured toward the black box. "There’s a problem with this 'Atart Ring,' right? Let me guess—is it a semi-finished product, or is it damaged?"

Amikaba sighed with annoyance. "Doing business is getting harder and harder these days..."

He then continued, "You guessed right. I salvaged this 'Atart Ring' from the second-hand market. It was only half-intact when I got it, and it took me a lot of effort to repair. But it’s only barely functional now; its maximum duration is five minutes, and the interference intensity is somewhat reduced—though, even so, it should be plenty for you."

"What’s your price?" Song Shi asked.

"Including the other items you asked for, 140,000 credits." Before Song Shi could respond, Amikaba added, "I can throw in a set of 'neural stabilizers.' It’s a top-tier brand; after your surgery, it’ll clear up the aftereffects in a month."

"Deal. No problem."

Song Shi scanned his surroundings, walked over to a workbench, picked up a scalpel, and waved it at him. "But I want a sweetener. I’m taking three of these scalpels."

—What a sharp eye!

Amikaba froze, cursing inwardly. Among the heap of various scalpels on the tray, the ones Song Shi picked were the highest quality, the most durable, and the most expensive—worth several hundred credits each!

"Hey, hey! Those scalpels are made of high-crystalline titanium alloy! You can't just throw those in as sweeteners!"

Amikaba felt a sting of regret, but seeing Song Shi sitting there with a calm, smiling expression, he could only let out a heavy sigh. "Fine! Curse my soft heart! But you’re only taking two! Put that one in your right hand down immediately!"

Whatever, he thought, at least there’s still a profit... *Tsk*, maybe he should adjust his markup ratios in the future?

On the other side, Song Shi felt a slight sense of relief. 140,000 credits was every cent he currently possessed—his past savings, yesterday’s "friendly sponsorship" from Tom, the recent gang loan, and a high-interest online loan he had just urgently taken out. If Amikaba had asked for even a credit more, he wouldn't have been able to pay.

At this moment, Song Shi couldn't help but feel a twinge of emotion. He never expected that one day, he would be troubled by simple "money" again. In his previous life, after he ascended to a Rank 4 Psionicist as a "freelance bounty hunter," money had become nothing more than a string of numbers, and he could easily obtain sums equivalent to millions of credits.

For the next two hours, Song Shi and Amikaba sat on opposite sides, idly scrolling through videos while waiting for the delivery.

Yes, a delivery.

While the "White Armor Type-III Power Bracer" was useful and cost-effective, its application was limited and the profit margins were low, so Amikaba didn't keep them in stock at his clinic. Only when needed did he make a few calls to have a local distributor send one over via city courier.

Naturally, since it was a delivery bound for the Deep Moss District, it wasn't an autonomous transport drone, but a human driver. This place was not like the White Gate District or the Central Hall, where security police patrolled day and night, the "City Management System" monitored every corner, and armed security forces from major corporations stood guard. In a lawless place like the Deep Moss District, if a regular transport drone were to fly in, there would be no shortage of people taking potshots at it for sport. Once the shots were fired, they would simply vanish into the complex maze of buildings—who could do anything about it?

However, the key word here was "regular." If the cargo belonged to a major corporation, or specifically to a transport drone from the mega-corporation "Chronos Passage," anyone who dared to fire at it would be met with immediate machine-gun fire and incendiary grenades, burning the attackers and their buildings to the ground without a trace.

After a while, a faded pickup truck pulled up outside the clinic. A man wearing a black mask stepped out, handed over a box, and left immediately, with almost no conversation throughout the entire exchange.

"Kid! Your stuff is here!" Amikaba nodded with satisfaction. He tapped the operating table and looked at Song Shi. "Tell me, for the neural interface surgery for the White Armor Type-III, which arm are you going to have done?"