Returning to Dominate The World With My Knowledge System
Chapter 56: Valkyrie-X

Chapter 56: Chapter 56: Valkyrie-X

Yield: 99.8%

For a second, no one said anything.

Then a soft gasp slipped from the corner of the room.

A technician with graying temples—someone who had once spent four years in a Sunsung sub-lab—let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

"Impossible..." he whispered, eyes wide.

Another, a Brazilian wafer specialist, stepped forward unconsciously, like the number itself was pulling him closer. His hand hovered over the screen, as if touching it would confirm it was real.

"That’s... factory-grade. No—better."

A third man, young and full of ego when he arrived, now stood slack-jawed. He looked at Tyler, then back at the screen, then back at Tyler—like his brain couldn’t connect the dots.

"First run. What the hell...," Someone in the back chuckled nervously.

Murmurs spread, but it was low and filled with reverence.

It wasn’t just a number. To them, that 99.8% yield wasn’t just an achievement—it was a statistical miracle.

It was something only the world’s most mature fabs could dream of hitting—after years of iteration, billions in funding in R&D, and tightly controlled environments.

And yet... here it was.

In a startup facility, deep in Central Africa. And it was achieved by a teenager, and on the first run.

They weren’t just impressed—they were stunned. Shaken. It was the kind of awe that made you reevaluate the world itself.

That’s when one of them muttered the words that none of them had dared say out loud yet:

"Who the hell is this kid?"

But they only keep their emotions in check, as they got started on the quality test.

The quality testing began immediately after the first chip passed its initial diagnostics.

The fabrication floor that was once abuzz with mechanical movements and command exchanges had grown tense and quiet.

Everyone’s attention was now locked on a series of high-performance testing rigs prepared to run full performance diagnostics on the freshly fabricated chip.

The technicians started with standard benchmarking. The first test checked transistor density.

The room went silent as the test results popped up: 800.3 billion transistors.

A few jaws literally dropped and someone dropped their pen.

"That’s... that can’t be right," one of the engineers muttered, walking toward the machine as if proximity would change the number.

They restarted the machine and ran the scan again.

Same result.

Modern chips that are considered to be very cutting edge were barely scratching the surface of 30 to 40 billion transistors.

Anything beyond that was considered bleeding-edge. But 800 billion? That wasn’t just pushing boundaries. It was crushing them underfoot.

"Check the memory bandwidth," another technician said, with a very solemn voice.

They input the next round of diagnostics. The system responded: 35 TB/s memory bandwidth.

Whispers turned into stunned silence.

Then came the floating-point operations test: 700 TFLOPS, peaking at 1500W during load.

That was the final blow. A few of the older engineers just backed away from the machine like it was radioactive.

"This isn’t a chip," one of them murmured. "It’s a goddamn reactor."

The specs were absurd as it was utterly beyond anything that currently existed. For comparison, the world’s top-end GPUs operated at 40nm lithography and reached about 15 TFLOPS on average with a 300W power draw.

Tyler’s chip, on its first try, had more than 500 times the computational power, far tighter efficiency, and a yield rate that should’ve been impossible.

The testing crew ran another set of checks. Then another. And another. They repeated transistor counts, memory probes, voltage stress tests, clock stability loops, and thermal scans.

The result never changed.

The chip was perfect.

And it had been built using 7nm fabrication techniques. A size that many companies, even those with tens of billions in R&D budgets, still struggled to achieve.

"What the hell are we looking at..." someone whispered.

It wasn’t just power. It was balance. A synthesis of design, control, and precision that made even the best industrial fabs in Taiwan or the U.S. look like amateurs in comparison.

The realization swept through the room like cold wind. This wasn’t a fluke. This was intentional. And the only explanation was the boy who had orchestrated the entire reassembly and calibration process.

They remembered how they almost stopped him. How some of them quietly exchanged looks when he rewrote core subroutines in live systems.

How they thought, "What does a kid know about sublevel ion doping or fluorine gas balancing?"

Now they felt stupid, embarrassed and ashamed.

He hadn’t just known what he was doing—he’d known more than them. Much more.

They began to look at Tyler with even deeper respect and reverence.

One technician whispered, "We have no idea what we’ve signed up for."

Another responded quietly, "We’re in for the ride of our lives."

Tyler saw the looks. Saw the shifting body language, the respect, the confusion and the admiration.

He only smiled as he gave the next command.

"Proceed with installing the chip into the GPU board."

No one questioned him. They moved like trained soldiers now. Obedient and focused.

The chip was mounted, soldered, layered with its thermal interface, and placed inside the GPU’s architecture casing.

The second round of testing began.

The results?

Even better than they feared—and hoped.

With optimized current paths and active power distribution systems now live, the chip’s performance leapt even higher.

Total throughput increased, latency dropped to nearly zero, and thermal regulation was astonishingly stable.

The crew was stunned. They had expected high performance. But not this.

And the fact that all this had come from a teenager only deepened the mystery. They began whispering about his background. Where he studied. Who trained him. What kind of education one had to go through to ever get this far.

But the more they thought about it, the more impossible it seemed.

Even if Tyler had been learning engineering from the womb, it shouldn’t be possible. Not at this level.

Tyler noticed their looks and still said nothing. His expression was calm, confident—completely at peace with the chaos he had just dropped on them.

Without missing a beat, he issued the next command. "Test the GPU on a full system."

That drew a few puzzled expressions.

Test it on a PC? Why?

They already knew what the result would be. It would shatter any benchmark. It was too powerful for consumer systems. They’d seen the numbers.

And Tyler knew that.

So why?

Then they saw his smile. They understood. He wasn’t testing the GPU to measure it.

He was testing the PC—to see if it could even handle it.

They proceeded. A custom rig was prepped. The GPU was slotted in. Cooling systems were engaged.

Power on.

The machine didn’t boot.

It smoked.

A visible tendril of white smoke wafted from the case’s rear fan grill before the technician yanked the power cord.

A few startled shouts went up.

Tyler grinned.

"That’s what I thought," he said. "If it had booted, the chip wouldn’t be good enough."

No one argued. They couldn’t.

This was not a chip meant for consumer use. It was a core. A weapon. A technological singularity in 7nm form.

And now, it had a name.

Tyler turned back to the display, watching the last of the diagnostics fade from the screen.

"I will call it Valkyrie-X."

The next moment, Tyler received a system notification.

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