Chen Hao, an overweight underdog, was a cargo ship laborer before transmigrating. He was lazy, fat, and loved slacking off.
Encountering a wormhole, his escape pod crashed on an uninhabited p...
Chen Hao stood on the edge of the crevice, the strange sensation still lingering under his feet. He stared down at his boots, as if something might suddenly sprout from them.
"Did you take notes?" he asked.
Nana stood at the door of the escape pod, her optical lens slightly rotating, retrieving data so quickly it made one wonder if she had been prepared all along. "The peak plantar pressure occurred on the left heel, with the contact surface consisting of porous, brittle minerals, primarily composed of weathered silicates. Geological analysis shows that this type of structure is commonly found in sedimentary layers formed after long-term seepage of groundwater."
Speak like a human.
"You're stepping on a sponge-like rock, not a living thing."
Chen Hao breathed a sigh of relief, but then felt something was off. "It's too soft. I thought I'd stepped into someone's stomach."
“If it were biological tissue, the sensor would detect protein decomposition gases and heat fluctuations within three seconds.” She paused. “There were no abnormal signals at the time.”
So—I was nervous for nothing?
To be precise, your tension is completely unnecessary.
He snorted and trudged into the cabin, his propulsion suit rustling against the door frame. Just as he entered the airtight area, a red light above his head flashed, and an alarm sounded softly: "Internal humidity too high, dehumidification program activated."
"Again?" He patted his shoulder. "Just because I stood by the underground lake for a while, does it have to be like I'm in a sauna?"
“Moisture has seeped into the inner lining layer. If not dealt with in time, it may cause a short circuit or mold growth.” Nana walked to the control panel and ran her finger across the panel. “The system recommends that environmental control be completed first, and then the hibernation process be initiated.”
"So now I have to wait for my clothes to dry completely before I can sleep? What kind of survival logic is that?"
"It's engineering logic."
As Chen Hao muttered, "Robots will never understand the urgency a human feels when they want to lie down," he began disassembling the propulsion suit components. Shoulder armor, knee pads, and power belt were placed on the drying rack one by one; his movements were slow but efficient. Finally, he turned his toolbox inside out, shaking out a few stone chips and half a flattened piece of energy gel packaging paper.
"You're quite particular." Nana glanced at the tidy workbench.
“This isn’t about being nice, it’s about revenge,” he said. “When this lousy bag got stuck on me last time, I vowed that one day I would clean out all its pockets.”
She didn't reply, but silently activated the backup heating wire, wrapping it around the torso of the suit. A faint electrical hum sounded, and almost invisible condensation began to rise from the edges of the fabric.
While waiting, Chen Hao slipped into a corner locker and pulled out an old towel to dry his hair. Suddenly remembering something, he looked up and asked, "How long did this trip take in total?"
"The round trip took eight hours and seventeen minutes."
"It doesn't sound like much, but it was actually like being hammered for eight hours straight." He grinned. "But... the water was real."
"The water quality at w-02 has been confirmed to be correct and it has been marked as a drinkable water source."
“It’s a quiet, cool place, and there’s water to drink.” He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes for a while. “If I didn’t have to come back, I would have liked to just sleep there.”
“Underground spaces pose a risk of collapse and are not suitable for long-term residence.”
“I know, I know.” He opened his eyes. “I only said ‘I want to,’ not that I would disobey your safety regulations.”
A few minutes later, a system notification sounded: "The humidity of the main server has dropped to 12%, meeting the storage standards. The environment is stable with no external disturbances. Energy reserves are sufficient, the solar array is operating normally, and the battery pack is at 93% charge. The water supply connection pipeline has completed pressure testing and the water flow is smooth. The defense radar scan range covers 360 degrees, and no moving targets have been detected."
Nana turned to face him: "Three checks completed. Hibernation mode ready."
Chen Hao didn't move, but stared at the ceiling for a while. "Does it have to be this long? Seventy-two hours... I'll almost forget who I am when I wake up."
“Low-power operation is to extend the lifespan of the core modules,” she said calmly. “Your exploration window depends on how long I can continue working. Reducing unnecessary energy consumption is equivalent to giving you more freedom of action.”
“But if you fall asleep, I’ll be the only one left alive here.”
"You are the only individual with vital signs while you are conscious."
Are you trying to comfort me or emphasize how lonely I am?
“Statement of facts does not involve emotional intent.”
He sighed, pulled a sleeping bag from the closet, and spread it out on the floor. He zipped it up to his chin, shrinking halfway in, leaving only his eyes and the tip of his nose showing. "Then remember to wake up on time. Don't let me be starving and eating plaster while you're still calculating pi in your dreams."
"Basic sensing capabilities are maintained during hibernation, and major anomalies will trigger an automatic wake-up mechanism."
"What constitutes a 'significant anomaly'? For example, does it mean I start singing?"
"Life-threatening, system crash, power outage, external forced intrusion."
"Oh." He pursed his lips. "Then it doesn't matter how badly I sing."
"Currently, there are no records of 'singing causing disasters' in the database."
He chuckled, rolled over, and turned his face to the side. "Alright, you sleep yours, I'll sleep mine. Let's both get some rest."
The cabin lights gradually dimmed, shifting from white to a warm yellow, until only a few green indicator lights on the control panel remained flashing. Nana stood still, her mechanical joints slightly retracting, entering a standby position. The light source in her eyes gradually dimmed, and her voice slowed down.
"Hibernation mode activated," she said. "Expected to wake up in 72 hours. Current status: safe, stable, and under control."
Chen Hao didn't respond; his breathing gradually became even. His fingers loosened their grip on the edge of the sleeping bag, his head tilted to one side, and the corners of his mouth drooped slightly, as if he had finally let go of something.
The console screen flickered.
A line of small text appeared in the corner of the log interface: "External humidity has increased by 0.3% again, source unknown."
Nana's optical sensor trembled slightly before returning to stillness.
The cabin fell completely silent.