The sealed jar trembled slightly on the table, as if pushed an inch by something invisible. Chen Hao stared at the drop of liquid that slid down the edge of the petal, his throat moved, but he didn't speak.

Nana raised her hand and pressed a button, turning off the light on the lab bench. The entire warehouse was plunged into darkness, with only a few emergency power supplies in the corner flashing green lights, like the eyes of a night owl.

“We need to figure this out,” she said.

"What does that mean?" Chen Hao was still looking at the jar. "That movement just now... did it move by itself?"

“The sample has been sealed and has no autonomous displacement capability.” She paused, “but external threat assessment is a higher priority.”

He sighed and reached for the fruit wine on the shelf behind him—the last barrel that had just been brewed yesterday, the label crookedly marked "No. 32." Just as his fingertips touched the bottle, Nana's voice came again: "Opening this drink will be recorded as a consumption."

"I only touched it briefly, it wasn't even turned on."

"Your actions conform to the 'Preparation for Start' behavioral model."

Chen Hao withdrew his hand and rolled his eyes: "You even care if I touch you?"

"I'm just reminding you that every sip you drink now is like eating half a cake less tomorrow."

He froze, then slowly turned to look at her: "So we're not having a bountiful harvest, but rather the countdown has begun?"

Nana didn't answer, but simply raised her arm, and the projector lit up. A red number appeared on the screen: **Staple Food Reserves—7 Days Remaining**.

The next line, in smaller print: Medical kit x2, water circulation filter life 11%, laser generator energy 43%.

"Wait a minute." Chen Hao leaned closer. "Isn't there still half a bucket of pickled fish left?"

"The amount of salted fish rescued after the acid rain was actually 1.8 kilograms. After deducting water loss due to evaporation and oxidation, the edible portion could only last for three days with the daily ration."

"Where are my compressed rice cakes? I clearly counted eight packs!"

"Two of the packages were automatically marked as waste during yesterday's system update due to dampness and mold."

"Who told you to mark it? I didn't eat it! Maybe sunning it can still save it!"

"The mold level is three times higher than the standard, and ingestion may cause gastrointestinal perforation."

Chen Hao opened his mouth, but in the end he could only manage to utter one sentence: "...We live our lives with more precision than we do during exams."

“Survival doesn’t require a margin for error.” After she finished speaking, she pulled up another set of data. “In addition, the hoe broke and was not repaired, and the fishing net damage rate is 67%. If the net is not repaired in time, the efficiency of the next fishing trip will drop to 21% of the original level.”

"So you want me to calculate my food intake while weaving a fishing net?"

“You can choose to have a drink first,” she said calmly, “but I suggest you get your facts straight before alcohol affects your nervous system.”

Chen Hao stared at the row of red characters for a full minute, then suddenly grinned: "Thirty-two barrels of fruit wine, Nana. We're rich!"

He grabbed the largest barrel next to him, shook it, and it rattled. "You know what? In the apocalypse, this thing can be traded for a gun, batteries, and a woman—oh wait, the last one doesn't count, I'm not that lucky."

He was about to unscrew the cap when he said that.

Nana reached out and blocked it, and the robotic arm steadily held the opening of the bucket.

“Opening it now is like burning away the sugar reserves for the next three days all at once,” she said. “Besides, have you forgotten what happened last night?”

Chen Hao paused.

The image of that crimson flower field and the liquid slowly dripping from the sealed jar flashed through his mind. He put down the bucket and scratched his head: "I was trying to forget it."

“Humans are used to using celebration to mask anxiety.” She withdrew her arm. “But this time, we have no right to run away.”

"I'm not running away, I'm regulating my emotions."

"Your mood regulation methods can cause blood sugar spikes, slow reaction times, and increase the frequency of nighttime urination."

"How do you even remember this!"

"I record everything."

Chen Hao sat on the wooden crate, looking up at the drafty gaps in the corrugated iron roof. Moonlight streamed in through the cracks, illuminating a jumble of tools: wrenches, pliers, a half-broken saw blade—all piled together as if carelessly tossed in.

"So what do we do now?" he asked. "Save food? Save resources? And then wait for the day when poisonous flower spores drift in and turn us into plant feed?"

"The first step is resource allocation," she said. "The second step is to develop an allocation plan. The third step is to establish a defense plan."

"Can we skip the first two steps and just have a fight? At least it would be a good fight."

"The enemy has not yet appeared."

“But it will come sooner or later, right?” He looked down and rubbed his palms together. “That flower… it moves. I can see it very clearly.”

“The sensing mechanism is not yet clear,” she said, “but what is certain is that our base is on a potential proliferation path.”

Chen Hao was silent for a moment, then suddenly stood up: "Fine, let's settle it then. Tell me how to clear it, and I'll cooperate."

Nana nodded and began to count off the items one by one.

Thirty-two barrels of fruit wine, each with a capacity of five liters, contain enough alcohol to intoxicate one hundred and twenty-eight people, but have no calorie replenishment function;

Staple food remaining: six packs of compressed rice cakes (half a pack per person per day according to standard ration), three kilograms of dried sweet potato chunks (needs to be rehydrated), and a whole barrel of pickled fish (too high in salt content, limited to 50 grams per day).

In terms of tools, there is only one intact stun gun, one spare battery, insufficient materials for repairing fishing nets, and less than half of the energy in the laser generator.

The medical resources are limited to two vials of antibiotics and a small bag of hemostatic powder. The burn gel has been used up, and the last time the burn was treated, it was only by temporarily suppressing the burn with a cryotherapy unit.

After reading the list, Chen Hao slumped back onto the box, his hand on his forehead: "We're not even as good as homeless people now, let alone farmers. At least they can collect mineral water bottles to exchange for money."

“You still have thirty-two barrels of fruit wine,” Nana said.

"Do you really think I'd trade this for my life?"

“In the absence of sweeteners, high-sugar fermented beverages have extremely high trading value.”

"The problem is, nobody wants to do business with me! There's not a soul around here except for you and me!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the warehouse iron door shook slightly.

The sound wasn't loud, like the wind hitting something. But both of them stopped breathing at the same time.

Nana's optical eye instantly switched to infrared mode, and the scanning line silently swept across the ground. Chen Hao slowly slid down from the box and crouched down.

"Wind?" he asked in a low voice.

“No change in wind speed,” she replied softly, “but three moving heat sources were detected, 47 meters away, slowly approaching.”

"animal?"

"Abnormal body temperature range, exceeding the normal range of activity for mammals."

"Could it be geothermal energy?"

"The heat source has a displacement trajectory and is not released through geological stability."

Chen Hao swallowed hard, his palms starting to sweat: "So... someone's outside?"

"The possibility of non-human targets cannot be ruled out."

Nana quickly cut off all the power, plunging the warehouse into complete darkness. Only the faint light in her eyes continued to flicker, like a beacon in the darkness.

She pulled Chen Hao around to the back of the wine barrel array, where more than a dozen barrels of fruit wine formed a natural cover. She handed him a stun gun and whispered, "You're in charge of the right sector. If you spot anything unusual, raise the alarm immediately."

"What if they break in?"

"Then use a stun gun to poke their faces."

"You make it sound like you can laugh."

"I have no facial muscles."

"But you have a maxed-out talent for being sarcastic."

It was quiet outside for a few seconds.

Then came the sound of sand being trampled, very soft, but continuous. It was as if something was inching closer, close to the wall.

Chen Hao gripped the stun gun tightly, his knuckles turning white. He held his breath, his eyes fixed on the sliver of light filtering through the bottom of the iron gate.

The doorknob moved slightly.

It wasn't the wind. That hand—if it really was a hand—was tentatively turning.

Nana slightly turned her body, and the robotic arm entered a ready-to-fire state. Her optical eye locked onto the crack in the door, and data streams flowed rapidly inside.

Chen Hao's lips moved, and he asked almost inaudibly, "Should we call out? Ask who it is?"

"Will they stop if we shout?"

"No, that won't happen."

"Then don't waste your energy."

The person outside—or something else—continued turning the doorknob. The metal made a faint creaking sound, like rusty joints rubbing together.

Suddenly, the footsteps changed direction and moved away along the wall.

It's getting farther and farther away.

Until it disappears completely.

Chen Hao breathed a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumped: "They're gone?"

Nana didn't move, still staring at the doorway.

Ten seconds, twenty seconds, thirty seconds passed before she slowly relaxed the robotic arm.

"We've temporarily evacuated," she said. "But the heat source hasn't left the monitoring area and may still be under observation."

"Observing us?"

“We are the only energy hub in this area. We have food, water, and residual electricity.” She put away her weapon. “For us, it’s a refuge; for others, it might be a den of prey.”

Chen Hao sat down against the wine barrel, still clutching the stun gun in his hand. He looked up at her: "Do you think... they came for the fruit wine?"

"Probability 37%"

Thirty-seven? That's accurate!

"Based on statistical models of past human looting behavior."

"You've even studied bandits?"

"I study all behaviors that could lead to an existential crisis."

He gave a wry smile: "So now I'm not only bankrupt, but also a potential victim of robbery?"

"To be precise, it refers to target individuals that have not yet been attacked."

"Do you have to put it so formally?"

"That way you'll understand."

Chen Hao leaned against the barrel and closed his eyes for a moment. The wind picked up again outside, making the tin roof rattle. He suddenly remembered something and opened his eyes: "Wait, the fruit wine...shouldn't we hide it?"

"It has been re-filed in the underground storage area B level, plus a triple locking mechanism."

"You're quite thoughtful."

"You are not trustworthy."

"Thank you."

He closed his eyes again, but couldn't fall asleep. His mind was filled with red words, heat sources, seeping petals, and the slow, persistent sound of a door turning.

After some time, he heard Nana say softly, "I suggest a rotating night watch, with each shift lasting two hours."

"You can set the time," he muttered. "I can't sleep anyway."

She nodded, standing in the shadows, her optical eyes continuing to scan the surrounding area.

Chen Hao huddled behind the barrel of liquor, the stun gun in his hand feeling as heavy as a rock.

In the distance, the last sound of footsteps completely disappeared into the night.

Meanwhile, on the sealed jar on the table, a drop of clear liquid was slowly creeping up the curved glass surface, extending towards the lid.