When Chen Hao pushed open the workshop door, Nana was standing in front of the terminal, her fingers flying across the screen. The fluorescent lights were humming as if they were about to stop working, but her movements were not affected at all.
“I’ve finished checking,” she said. “According to the construction list you set yesterday, we won’t last past the third pile.”
Chen Hao tossed the canvas bag onto the table, the parts inside clattering loudly. "Surely it's not that bad? Aren't there still a few alloy tubes left?"
“Three.” She pulled up the inventory list, and a line of data was highlighted in red. “The design requires twelve, and the current materials can only last until the first row of foundation piles is driven.”
He leaned over for a look, then stepped back, as if his eyes had been burned by the screen. "What about the other eight? We couldn't even tear down a wall to get that many."
“We can try alternative materials.” Nana opened the database interface. “The G7 abandoned mine used a large amount of a composite metal pipe, which met the compressive strength standard and had slightly better corrosion resistance than the current stock model.”
"That sounds plausible... Is it still there?"
"No demolition completion report was recorded, and the geographical archives show that structural components are still piled up in the open at the site."
Chen Hao stroked his chin and suddenly laughed: "So, we don't have to build from scratch, but instead pick things up?"
"To be precise, it's about recycling and reuse."
"Same meaning." He grinned. "I love getting things for free."
As the two packed their gear and headed out, it was just dawn. The air was dry and astringent, and the wind carried the smell of metal that had been left to dry in the sun for a long time. Chen Hao, carrying his tool bag, was panting after just a few steps. He stopped midway to drink half a bottle of water, tilting his head back to gulp it down. The water dripped down his neck, staining his t-shirt with a dark ring.
"Why do you think this mine was abandoned?" he asked as he walked.
"After the energy structure was adjusted, the mining area was included in the list of mines to be shut down due to excessively high transportation costs, and its operation ceased seven years ago."
"Seven years...enough time for rats to gnaw the wires into an art exhibition."
Nana glanced at him: "There may be electrical hazards on site. We recommend avoiding touching exposed wires."
"Received." He waved his hand. "Anyway, I'm too lazy to touch it."
Twenty kilometers is not a short distance, but they made it relatively easy until they rounded the ridge and found that the narrow path in front of them was completely blocked by a pile of rubble and half-buried machinery wreckage.
Chen Hao stopped, stared at the messy pile of things for five seconds, then slowly squatted down and placed the backpack on his knees.
“I said,” he looked up, “have we taken the wrong road?”
“The path matching rate is 98%.” Nana scanned the obstacles ahead. “This is the only passable section of the road, which is currently blocked.”
"But this isn't a road, it's a junkyard."
The landslide debris rushed down the hillside, crushing an old tracked transport vehicle. The vehicle was twisted and deformed, and one track broke off, coiling around the pile of rocks like a snake's shed skin. Several large rocks were still stuck in the crevices above, and another could roll down at any moment.
Chen Hao stood up and tried to move a smaller stone next to him. It didn't budge. He changed his posture, lowered his waist, and exerted force with his arms. The stone wobbled, but still wouldn't move.
"This thing grew on the ground?" he said, panting.
“The surface is covered with a layer of weathered clay, which has a high coefficient of friction.” Nana walked closer to observe. “The efficiency of cleaning by hand is estimated to be 0.2 cubic meters per hour, with a total volume of about 17 cubic meters. It would require 85 hours of continuous work.”
"So you mean three days and three nights without sleep?" He plopped down on a flat stone. "I thought I could haul a truckload of materials back today for hot pot."
"No flammable gas leak was detected, so the hot pot cannot be ignited."
"I'm just using an analogy!"
"Understood. Improper use of metaphors can easily lead to misunderstandings."
He rolled his eyes, wiped the sweat from his brow, and casually brushed the dust from the tip of his nose. The sunlight was shining directly down, making his forehead feel hot. He squinted as he looked ahead, trying to find a crack among the pile of rubble and scrap metal.
"Can't you just fry it a little? Fry it lightly, just shake it to loosen it up."
Nana scanned the area for a moment, then pointed to the bottom of the tracked vehicle: "There is a trace amount of fuel remaining in the fuel tank. If it explodes, the shockwave could cause a secondary collapse. Risk level four, on-site handling is not recommended."
"Then we'll wait?"
"We can bring back a thermoelectric cutter and a towing rope on the return trip, and resume the clearing operation tomorrow."
Chen Hao didn't speak, he just sat there, his gaze fixed on a section of metal pipe that was vaguely visible in the distance. Sunlight shone on it, reflecting a faint light, as if someone had deliberately placed it there to give people a glimmer of hope.
He suddenly laughed: "Do you think that pipe might be the one that's missing from our design drawings?"
“The probability is not high,” Nana said, “but seven sets of standard components have been identified within the visible range, and the feasibility assessment for recycling is 68%.”
"68%...that's a bit higher than a lottery."
"This is not a lottery."
“This is it.” He slowly stood up, brushing the dust off his pants. “Alright, consider this a scouting trip. I’ll bring the gear tomorrow and give this pile of junk a ‘last-minute care’.”
He turned to leave, but stopped after taking two steps.
"Hello."
"exist."
"You know... if we tow this car back and modify it, could it be used as a backup power source for the waterwheel?"
“Tracked structures are not suitable for fluid drive.”
"I just said it offhand."
"I suggest focusing on the main storyline."
"Okay, I know." He waved his hand. "Don't be so serious. I don't really want to generate electricity with a broken car."
They walked back along the same path, their shadows growing longer and longer. Chen Hao kept talking about what tools he needed to bring tomorrow—a cutter, steel cable, a crowbar, spare batteries, and a bag of salty compressed biscuits, saying that they needed to replenish their salt intake after such strenuous work.
Nana silently noted down each item, and the terminal updated the supplies list in real time.
He suddenly stopped when he was almost at the base entrance.
"etc."
"how?"
He turned his head to look in the direction he came from, frowning: "You mean there's still some fuel left in the tank?"
"Trace amounts remain, insufficient to support startup, but are flammable."
"What if we don't use an open flame?" His eyes lit up. "What if we use an electric spark? A small pulse discharge, would that be enough to ignite it?"
Nana brought up the circuit simulation module, input the parameters, and replied a few seconds later: "Theoretically feasible, but precise control of energy output is required. An error exceeding five percent could lead to uncontrollable combustion."
"There are risks."
"Extremely high."
Chen Hao rubbed his hands together and grinned, "But I like it."
"It's not a matter of liking it."
"But what if it works? That way we won't have to make trips to move tools every day tomorrow."
"It might also mean we have to make repeated trips to the hospital."
"Hey, don't make it sound so scary." He scratched his head. "Let's be careful. Let's get a small device, remotely controlled, and have someone watch from a hundred meters away."
Nana remained silent for a few seconds, and the optical lens slightly retracted.
"A custom trigger module is needed."
"Can you do it?"
"There are similar designs in the database."
"Then you are my god."
"I am not a god."
"But you can make me move ten tons less stone."
He chuckled, pulled out his notebook, and drew a crooked box on a blank page, writing "Demolition Plan A" below it. He then drew a wire connecting to a small circle, labeled "Remote Control Switch".
After finishing the drawing, he closed the notebook and put it back in his pocket.
In the distance, the workshop lights came on again.
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