1836: I Became a Literary Giant in Great Britain

Chapter 107 The Tentacle Monster Project Launched!

Babbage's gaze was drawn to the check Michelle held up.

Although he is immersed in the world of mathematics, he still retains a sensitivity to numbers in the real world.

A huge sum of five thousand five hundred pounds.

For him in his current situation, it's practically a lifeline.

But he quickly looked away, his expression returning to its haughty and stubborn state.

Although he was dressed poorly and in a sorry state.

But one can still vaguely see the brilliant, spirited genius he possessed back then...

"Mr. LeBron, if you're trying to buy my hard work with this little bit of money, then you may leave."

"My Analytical Engine is an extension of human thought."

"It was created to solve the most complex mathematical problems, not as a bargaining chip."

Michelle found a clean wooden box and sat down.

He looked at this stubborn genius.

"Professor, you've misunderstood."

"I do not intend to buy your analysis machine."

"On the contrary, I want to help you complete it."

Upon hearing this, Babbage snorted coldly.

"Help me? With what?"

"The government has already treated me like a fraud, and those old fogies at the Royal Society will only laugh at me behind my back."

"They simply don't understand the greatness of this machine."

Michelle pointed to the autoprint module.

"They really don't understand it, because this machine is too advanced."

"It's like forcibly stuffing a product from a hundred years in the present into the present."

"Its improvement requires a lot of funding, and your current reputation probably can no longer get official support, right?"

""

Babbage fell silent.

He knew Michelle was telling the truth.

The knife that kills fastest is often the truth.

He has exhausted all social resources and personal wealth for this machine.

Otherwise, given his family background and extraordinary talent, how could he have fallen to such a state?

"Therefore, we need a project that can be monetized quickly."

, 7

Michelle stood up and walked over to the printing module.

"The principle behind your module is very ingenious."

"What if we simplified it and made it into a portable machine that could leave neat handwriting on paper simply by tapping with your fingers?"

Babbage was stunned.

He thought for a few seconds, then gave a disdainful look.

"You mean a typewriter?"

"This kind of thing was tried decades ago; it was just a simple combination of levers and movable type."

"And it's easy for adjacent keystrokes to collide and jam when typing..."

"7

"My typing efficiency is even lower than that of a skilled scribe."

""

"These kinds of low-level tricks don't require any profound mathematical logic at all."

"That's blasphemy against science!"

Michelle wasn't angry.

He knew that these geniuses all had an almost obsessive sense of pride.

What he needs is subtle, understated guidance.

"Professor, do you think writing is an elegant thing?"

Michelle changed the subject.

Babbage frowned.

"What does this have to do with science?"

"It's very important."

Michelle spread her hands.

"Lawyers, businessmen, and government officials nowadays spend a lot of time writing documents by hand every day."

"Their handwriting is often illegible, making them extremely inefficient."

"In fact, if the handwriting in nautical and mathematical tables were clear and standard, there would likely be far fewer calculation errors."

'

"If there were a machine that could allow them to quickly type out perfect print on paper, like playing the piano."

"How much do you think they're willing to pay?"

Babbage opened his mouth, but didn't say anything.

Michel's words struck a chord with him; wasn't that his original intention in developing the difference engine?

He certainly knew the commercial value of it.

But he still couldn't accept developing such "low-level" things himself.

"That's too easy, Mr. LeBron."

"This doesn't require my brain at all."

Michelle walked up to him and raised her voice.

"Although it's basic, this will help you secure the funding to complete the analysis machine."

How much more money do you need for this machine? Ten thousand pounds? Or twenty thousand?

'

"If you continue to cling to it like this, it will eventually be nothing more than scrap metal, and you will die in poverty."

"By then, who will remember your grand vision?"

In fact, what Michel was referring to was the final fate of this genius.

Despite his poverty and failing health—in his later years Babbage even reaching a point where he could no longer express himself clearly—he continued to draw up blueprints and refine his plans...

Babbage died at his home in London in 1871.

His funeral was extremely modest, with only one carriage accompanying him. The Royal Society didn't even issue an obituary.

Of course, with Michel's arrival, this genius's fate will likely change.

Babbage's body trembled slightly.

This sentence struck a nerve.

What he feared most was not poverty, but that his ideals would be buried in the dust.

"We can set up a laboratory."

Michelle continued to increase her support.

"I will pay for the building and provide research and development funding."

"You are responsible for the technical implementation; bring your students or assistants."

"We will work together to develop a mature commercial typewriter and monopolize the market in the entire British Empire."

"You can invest all the money you earn into the research and development of the analytical machine."

Babbage raised his head, a hint of struggle in his eyes.

"Are you really willing to trust the Analytical Engine?"

Michelle smiled.

"Professor, I once said that the future is nothing more than the bravest imagination of the present."

"I believe in your talent."

Babbage looked at the young man in front of him.

He discovered that he couldn't see through the other person.

This young man possesses a composure far beyond his years, as well as an unwavering confidence in the future.

Why did you choose me?

Babbage asked.

"Any ordinary mechanic could make such a simple machine."

Michelle shook her head.

"No, Professor."

"I want more than just a typewriter."

"What I want is the best, a standard, the ultimate pinnacle of mechanical structure."

"Moreover, only you can make the best commercial typewriter based on the printing module."

Michelle actually lied.

His deeper purpose was simply to bind this great figure to his own cause.

After all, there were still many things waiting to be realized in his mind.

Babbage took a deep breath.

He looked at his unfinished steel behemoth, then at the check in Michelle's hand.

"make a deal."

He stretched out his stained hand.

Michelle shook his hand without hesitation.

"It's a pleasure working with you, Professor."

"Now, let's get rid of those debt collectors first."

Michelle pulled a check out of the cheques and handed it to a bewildered Finch.

Poor Finch, who came in with Michel, just stared blankly at the two of them talking.

"Mr. Finch, please complete the paperwork for this house, along with the shop I just bought."

"Use the remaining money to pay off all the debts owed to those people earlier."

Finch held the check, looking puzzled.

He lowered his voice and asked, "Mr. LeBron, are you really going to buy this mental hospital?"

Michelle smiled and patted Babbage on the shoulder.

"No, from now on this place will be called the Future Lab."

"Professor, could you tell me how you implemented the automatic paper feed function?"

Babbage's expression immediately became excited.

He pulled Michelle over to the machine and began to explain the complex logic of the gears at length.

Michelle only understood half of what she heard.

But he knew that the most important thing in dealing with such a genius was understanding and support.

What I bought was not just a house, but the key to an era!

Perhaps this "future lab" truly can create the future...

Of course, the invention of the typewriter not only made money, but the biggest beneficiary was Michel himself.

After all, the feeling of your hands getting sore after writing each book is not pleasant.

Furthermore, the efficiency is incredibly low.

When the typewriter comes out, let the readers of this era experience the shock of the tentacle monster's speed!