Chen Hao lay in the pile of rubble, not even thinking of dodging when the rock fell on his head. The wind whistled through the mountain crevices, making his clothes flutter like someone turning over tattered rags to dry in the distance.

He didn't move, nor did he intend to.

Nana walked over, looked down at him, and the mechanical arm made a short click, as if it was clearing its throat.

"Are you still alive?" she asked.

"For now." He said with his eyes closed, "That fall just now extinguished my last bit of fighting spirit."

"You said yesterday that you couldn't live without the alcohol."

"I've changed my mind. As long as a person is breathing, the bad luck isn't over yet."

Nana crouched down, her optical eye scanning his knees and shoulders, data streams flashing within them, but she said nothing. She knew he was in pain, and she knew he didn't want to hear the nonsense of "suggesting rest."

The two remained silent for a while.

Chen Hao finally sat up, brushed the dust off his pants, and limped forward. Halfway there, he suddenly stopped.

Is the water still flowing?

Nana nodded: "The water flow is stable, about twelve liters per minute, which is enough to maintain basic drinking water and irrigation."

"That's good." He grinned, but the smile seemed a little forced. "At least we haven't completely lost everything."

They walked back along the cracked ground, their footsteps crunching on the hard earth like crushing bones. The sun was high overhead, its heat making their scalps tingle, but no one mentioned seeking shade. Just being able to walk was a feat; who dared to complain about comfort?

The drilling rig still stands in the same spot, the metal pipe connecting to the water diversion channel gleaming faintly, and the water flows slowly along the ditch, like the only living thing in this dead land.

Chen Hao stared at the water for a long time, then suddenly bent down, scooped up a handful, and splashed it on his face.

It's cold.

He shuddered, picked it up again, and this time took a sip.

"It's not poisonous, is it?" he asked.

“The test result is normal,” Nana said, standing beside her. “But I suggest you don’t use it as a placebo.”

“I’ve already started to become dependent on it.” He wiped his face. “Don’t you think people are just like that? They don’t appreciate the wine when they have it, but they only realize how good it is after they’ve burned it all. And this little bit of water, I used to think it wasn’t enough to even wash my hands.”

Nana didn't reply. Suddenly, her sensors detected three moving heat sources approaching from the western slope.

Instead of immediately warning her, she quietly checked the energy reading of the electric shock module—low power, controllable, and unlikely to cause injury.

"We have guests," she said.

Chen Hao followed her gaze and saw three figures walking towards them. They were dressed slightly better than beggars but slightly worse than survivors, carrying iron bars and broken steel bars, and walking in unison.

The leader was in his early thirties, his face was sunburned and peeling, his lips were cracked, but his eyes were frighteningly bright.

"Did you dig this water?" He stopped five meters away from the drilling rig, his voice hoarse.

"We dug it." Chen Hao stood in front of the drilling rig, grabbed an empty bucket from the side, and held it up. "Look carefully, this is ours."

"First come, first served," another person sneered. "No one says the water belongs only to those who dig it."

“That makes sense.” Chen Hao nodded. “Then I hereby declare that this water belongs to the heavens above my head. If you want to drink it, you’ll have to ask the clouds above my head for permission first.”

“You’re quite the smooth talker,” the third person stepped forward. “But we haven’t had any water for three days.”

Chen Hao's smile faded slightly.

He looked at the iron bars in their hands, then at the bucket in his own, and suddenly realized something—these people weren't there to fight, they were there to steal his life.

“It took us three days to get running water,” he said. “Before that, we survived by licking the dampness off the rock face. Do you think we wanted to stay here and dry out like cured meat?”

"So we're taking over now." The leader took a step forward. "We'll leave the equipment, and we'll use the water. We'll give you two buckets a day, enough to keep you alive."

"It sounds like charity," Chen Hao sneered. "Do you know what I dreamt about last night? I dreamt that I poured the last barrel of wine into the sand, and then squatted there smelling it. What's the difference between you asking me to give up the water and asking me to smell the sand?"

“You can leave,” the man said. “No one is stopping you.”

"I'm not leaving." Chen Hao slammed the bucket on the ground. "This water was made by us with our hammers and shovels. If you want to take it, you'll have to run over me first."

The air suddenly tensed up.

The three men exchanged glances and gripped their weapons tighter.

Nana moved.

Without uttering a sound or drawing her weapon, she vanished from her spot in a flash. The next second, she was behind the three of them, her movements so fast that only a blur remained.

The first man had just raised the iron rod when he felt a numbness in the back of his neck, and his legs went weak, causing him to kneel down.

The second man reacted quickly, turning around to swing his stick, but there was no one in front of him. He felt a jolt in his side, as if he had been struck by lightning, and he convulsed and fell to the ground.

The third person tried to run, but as soon as he took a step, his ankle was grabbed by a force, and he fell to the ground with a thud. He turned around and saw Nana squatting beside him, her fingers still emitting a faint blue light.

"Don't move," she said. "If you move even a little, next time it won't just be numbness."

The three men lay on the ground, convulsing and cursing, but dared not move.

Chen Hao walked over, looked down at them, and sighed.

“Actually, you’re just as unlucky as me,” he said. “If we were in a different place, we could at least share a drink of water.”

"Then why won't you let me?" one person asked through gritted teeth.

“Because I’m afraid,” Chen Hao said. “If I give in today, ten or twenty will come tomorrow. The day after tomorrow, I’ll have to kneel down and beg you for a drink of water. I don’t want to end up like that.”

Nana walked back to the drilling rig and checked the equipment's condition: "I suggest moving the core components. Exposing them here is like putting up a 'Come and rob me' sign."

"But how heavy is this thing?" Chen Hao touched the drill's casing. "I almost broke my back when I moved it last time."

“I’ll carry it,” Nana said. “You drag the pipes.”

"Wasn't your right arm stuck?"

“It doesn’t affect the load-bearing capacity,” she said. “What affects your sense of security.”

Chen Hao didn't say anything more, and the two began to disassemble the connecting parts. Nana lifted the main body of the drill rig with one hand and pressed it firmly on her shoulder. The metal support made a slight creaking sound, as if it were protesting.

He dragged the auxiliary tubing along, panting as he walked.

"You know... could we make an automatic water-spraying robot in the future?" he asked breathlessly. "Let it guard the water source and shock anyone who gets close. It would be much better than me manually shouting at it."

“Okay,” Nana said. “And while we’re at it, add a voice prompt: ‘This water is claimed; violators will receive a free massage.’”

"Add a line: 'This service is sponsored by unlucky Chen Hao.'"

"Creative proposals have been recorded."

They moved slowly along the rock crevice, avoiding open areas, and eventually hid the drill in a narrow crater, covering it with rubble and scrap metal plates, leaving only a narrow slit for ventilation.

“Short-term safety,” Nana said, scanning her surroundings. “But in the long run, an early warning mechanism is needed.”

"For example?" Chen Hao sat down against the rock, rubbing his shoulders.

"Vibration sensing, heat source tracking, and remote alarms," ​​she said. "It can even connect multiple nodes to form a monitoring network."

"It sounds like a military base."

“Survival is war,” she said. “Only the enemy has a different name.”

Chen Hao smiled, but the smile looked a little tired.

He looked up at the water outlet in the distance; the water was still flowing, a thin stream, but it never stopped.

"As long as it's still flowing, it's not over," he said softly.

Nana stood beside him, her optical eyes turned toward the distant horizon, constantly refreshing the scan data.

“The limit of human endurance is usually three days,” she said. “They will come back.”