Chen Hao stared at the beast's corpse, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something celebratory, but he sneezed instead.

A gust of wind blew in from the woods, carrying the smell of damp earth mixed with blood. He looked down at his bare feet, the soles of which were covered in mud, bits of grass, and blood clots of unknown origin, leaving a trail with every step. The bruise on his buttocks still throbbed, and his arms ached so much he could barely lift them, but he didn't lie down.

"Just eating meat won't do." He rubbed his arms, goosebumps already forming. "It'll be freezing cold tonight, like being stuffed into the freezer."

Nana stood beside him, a blue light sweeping across his arm: "Body temperature dropped by 0.7°C. The ambient temperature is expected to drop below 8°C in three hours. We recommend activating the thermal insulation plan."

"See!" Chen Hao seemed to have found a legitimate reason, slapped his thigh and stood up, but his legs were so weak that he almost sat down and died. "Such a big piece of skin, what a waste! If this were made into clothes, it could last for at least two winters."

“Agreed.” She approached the body, the camera gliding over the fur. “But basic treatment is needed, otherwise the fur will begin to harden within twelve hours and will be unusable after forty-eight hours.”

“Then let’s deal with it.” Chen Hao pulled the stone axe out of the ground and stuck it into a patch of soft soil next to him as a walking stick. “You tell me the steps, and I’ll do it. Although the last time I did this was in high school labor class when I was making paper boxes, I can’t let a dead animal look down on me this time.”

“Step 1: Remove the remaining fat and muscle tissue.” Nana pointed to the edge of the wound. “I recommend using a flat stone as a scraper, pushing along the subcutaneous connective layer, and controlling the force to within three and a half Newtons to avoid cutting the dermis.”

“Three and a half points… never mind, can you just say ‘scrape gently’?” Chen Hao bent down and rummaged through the pile of rubble, picking out a flat, bladed piece of gray stone. “This is it, an archaeological scrubbing board.”

He crouched down and reached into the warm edge of the wound. The touch was slippery, like touching the bottom of a freshly fried dough stick box. His stomach churned, and he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth: "This is even more disgusting than the stainless steel basins at the cafeteria food counter... but I'll endure it."

The first strike was too forceful; the stone sank deep into the skin, almost tearing a gash. Nana immediately exclaimed, "The angle is fifteen degrees to the left; the pressure is too great."

"Okay, okay." He adjusted his posture, lowered his wrist, and pushed forward little by little. The fat was scraped off like rotten tofu and piled up to one side. The movements were clumsy at first, like correcting a wrong answer with a ruler, but after a few rounds, the rhythm gradually became steady.

"From which dynasty did you pass down this process?" he asked as he scraped, "Shang-Zhou period or Late Paleolithic period?"

"The knowledge comes from the Earth's 21st Century Biomaterials Processing Database," she said. "It contains 372 original tanning methods."

"So, is the method you're teaching me now a beginner's version or a basic version?"

"It belongs to the 'minimum feasible solution under the condition of no tools'."

"I knew it." Chen Hao grinned, but his hands didn't stop. "So I'm learning the remedial course content of an ancient technical school now."

He continued scraping down his ribs, the movements becoming smoother. Although his fingers were starting to stiffen and the area between his thumb and forefinger was red from the scraping, he found that as long as he maintained a steady breathing pace, he wasn't too tired. It was like when he used to skip morning exercises; he would run slowly but keep going, and eventually he would reach the finish line.

“Step two: prevent hardening.” Nana handed over a ceramic bowl filled with a murky, greenish liquid. “Temporary soaking with gromwell juice can slow down the cross-linking of collagen fibers.”

"Oh, just to prevent it from hardening." Chen Hao took the bowl and carefully dipped the freshly scraped corner of fur into it. The liquid made a slight hissing sound upon contact with the fur, and the hair roots loosened slightly.

"It's actually having some effect." He looked up. "Won't this herbal juice ruin my hands too?"

"It has been diluted to a safe concentration, and there is no risk if it is in contact with the skin for no more than ten minutes."

“Then I’ll have to start the timer.” He wiped his hands on his pants. “After all, I don’t have health insurance right now.”

He moved on to the next section, this time learning to gently tap the inside of the skin with a stone to loosen the fat before scraping. His efficiency improved significantly; even Nana remarked, "The error rate has decreased by forty-one percent."

"Praise me?" Chen Hao proudly raised his chin. "So, are you going to give me a wilderness survival award later?"

This function is not available.

"Even if it exists, it's fake. The system must have a hard code that says 'robots must not encourage lazy human behavior.'"

As darkness fell, the forest light turned a bluish-gray. Chen Hao sat beside the corpse, clutching a damp corner of the pelt in his hand, his other hand propped on his knee as he panted. Sweat streamed down his temples, gathering into a drop on his chin before falling with a soft thud onto the soil.

He looked down at his clothes—the shoulder was ripped, the trouser legs were worn through, and the wounds on the soles of his feet were beginning to scab over. He looked like a spare part pulled from a garbage dump.

This time, however, he didn't think about how to escape, nor did he think about waiting for rescue.

He wondered if this skin could cover him up.

"What's next?" He wiped his face. "Do I have to sun it, air it, or take it to a shaman for incantations?"

“The next step is softening.” Nana projected a simplified diagram. “Under the current conditions, it is recommended to use mechanical friction combined with plant sap penetration for six to eight hours.”

"So, you mean I'm not going to get any sleep tonight?"

"Yes, it can be used if you want the fur to remain supple."

Chen Hao sighed and looked at the gradually blurring tree shadows in the distance. "I thought killing it would be the end, but it turns out this is just the beginning."

“Hunting is just the beginning,” she said. “Resource conversion is the core of survival.”

"You talk about it like it's a company KPI," he said with a wry smile. "I don't even work this hard at my regular job."

He picked up the stone slab again and continued scraping the last section near the hind leg. This part was the most difficult to work with; the skin was thick and there were many tendons, and even a little force would pull out chunks of flesh. He held his breath and pushed forward little by little, the veins on his forehead bulging.

Finally, the last piece of fat was removed. He laid the half-wet skin on the ground; although it still had traces of blood and grass juice, at least it was no longer sticky.

"Did it work?" he asked.

"Preliminary completion," Nana replied after scanning. "The current state is suitable for entering the softening stage, but it has not yet reached the standard for cutting."

"Cut it?" Chen Hao was taken aback. "Who said I was going to cut it? I just want to drape it over my body as a blanket."

"Your exact words were 'make it into clothes'."

"That's a metaphor! A literary device! Don't you understand emotional value?"

"I lack the ability to understand rhetoric."

"Then how did you understand when I said 'go to work'?"

"The term appeared in 537 workplace culture analysis reports."

"...You win."

Chen Hao slumped to the ground, leaning against a rock. The night wind seeped into the cracks in his clothes, making him shiver. He looked down at the freshly treated hide, then suddenly reached out and touched the fur-like surface.

It's quite thick and dense.

"If this thing were actually made into clothing, how many years could I wear it?"

"Depending on the maintenance, it can last up to three years."

"Three years?" He grinned. "Then wouldn't I become the first human on this planet to have a durable coat?"

"You are the only known surviving human being."

"That sounds a bit tragic."

He was silent for a moment, then asked in a low voice, "Do you think... we can do more than one thing in the future?"

"If resources allow, batch processing is possible."

“I’m not talking about quantity.” He looked up at the last glimmer of light at the edge of the woods. “I mean, could you make it a little more presentable? With sleeves, buttons, even… a pocket?”

Nana's blue light flashed: "Without the current seamless tools and accessories, it is impossible to achieve a complete garment structure."

“I know,” he smiled. “But can I imagine it? People have to dream before they can create something.”

He reached out and pulled the fur closer to him, as if afraid someone would steal it.

The fire hadn't been lit yet, but he already felt warmer.

He picked up the stone slab and began to gently rub the leather surface with its edge, following Nana's instructions to soften it with the first round of friction. His movements were slow but steady. Each stroke carried a subtle rustling sound, like some ancient rhythm.

Nana stood behind him, the optical lens continuously scanning the surroundings.

A bird call came from afar, short and clear.

Chen Hao stopped what he was doing and looked up at the sky.

A star has just appeared.