Chen Hao stuffed the jam biscuit into his mouth, his cheeks puffing out like a hamster's. He chewed a couple of times and mumbled, "This time it's not that I'm greedy, it's just that this thing is really effective."
Carl squatted by the forge, holding a freshly forged metal bar in his hand, without looking up. "Last time you said roasted mushrooms could cure insomnia, and the whole team got up in the middle of the night looking for a toilet."
“That’s because you ate too much.” Chen Hao swallowed, then picked up another piece. “This time it’s different; this is a scientific achievement.”
Susan peeked out from the kitchen doorway, a stirring spoon in her hand. "Don't just talk the talk, the walk is the walk. The first batch of jam is packaged, thirty-seven jars in total. Nutritional testing has been passed, and the shelf life is estimated to be more than two weeks."
Nana stood in front of the control panel, her finger swiping across the screen. "Entered into the 'Food Resource Database,' categorized as 'High-Fiber Plant-Based Supplement.' Recommended daily intake: 100 grams, which can replace 30% of root vegetable intake."
"It sounds like a hospital menu," Chen Hao muttered. "Couldn't it be written as 'Sweet and delicious, won't make you hungry'?"
“A truthful description is more conducive to long-term management,” Nana said. “False advertising can lead to overexploitation.”
"I'm not advertising, I'm promoting," Chen Hao stood up, brushing the food off his pants. "Besides, who would complain about how good the food is?"
The sound of hammering came from the workshop, a steady rhythm. A new chisel was carving grooves in the rock face, sparks occasionally flying out, rolling a couple of times on the ground before going out. The operators had changed shifts, but the work hadn't stopped.
Karl finally put down the metal strip and wiped his hands. "The first batch of tools took three days to develop, and the feedback was good. The chisels are four times more durable than before, and the saw blades didn't chip. It's just that the forging process is too slow; only five pieces can be produced from one batch."
"It's a bit slow, but it's steady." Chen Hao walked over, picked up a saw blade that was cooling down, and looked at it. "I used to change three blades a day, but now one blade does the work for three days. The energy saved can be used for other things."
“The key is to use the right method.” Susan followed up. “Low-temperature slow forging with a carbon coating sounds complicated, but it really comes down to two words—patience. In the past, we always wanted to be fast, but the material exploded and time was wasted.”
Nana nodded. "The premise of applying knowledge is respecting the laws of physics. The database provides solutions, but execution depends on accumulated experience."
"So you're not saying 'according to the database' anymore?" Chen Hao laughed.
“No one listens to me even if I tell them.” Nana looked at him. “During the last storm, I called for a directional correction three times, but no one moved.”
“I really couldn’t care less that time.” Chen Hao scratched his head. “The sail ropes broke, and the main beam was rattling like it was about to fall apart. Who had time to look at the instrument panel?”
“But we can change it now,” Susan said. “With stable tools and standardized processes, response time can be shortened.”
Carl bent down to pick up the notebook. "I've started recording the cooling curves for each batch of metal. I've clearly marked how many degrees the temperature drops before each hammering, and how much force to use. Newcomers can follow along later."
“I have material for the standard operating procedure manual.” Chen Hao grinned. “Once it’s finished, I’ll be the first to sign it, and the title will be ‘How to Forge Iron Without Blowing Yourself Away’.”
"I suggest adding 'Safety First' to the subtitle," Nana said.
"That's so boring." Chen Hao waved his hand. "Our base wasn't built by following the rules. It was built through trial and error, through hard work and experimentation."
After he finished speaking, he turned and walked towards the kitchen, his steps a little unsteady. Despite his weight, he walked with a brisk pace.
Susan glanced at her watch. "Time to go to the pantry. The jam needs to be sorted and the labels need to be updated."
"Should we add 'Recommended by Chen Hao'?" Carl asked.
“Add ‘effective as tested by the team’,” Susan laughed. “Otherwise, he would just say he ate the most.”
The kitchen still smelled delicious. Several members on their day off were gathered around the stove, secretly spreading jam on bread. When they saw Susan come in, they paused, pretending to wipe the table.
“Eat it, it’s not like we’re stealing.” Susan put the new jar in. “But each person is limited to two spoonfuls; it’s a rationing system.”
"I shouldn't have praised it so much," one person muttered.
“It’s precisely because it’s been praised that we need to limit production.” Susan closed the cabinet door. “Only when demand exceeds supply can its value be realized.”
After syncing the logs, Nana brought up the resource panel. The ore reserves, tool production, and food reserves were all trending upwards. While the increases weren't large, the trends were stable.
She clicked the confirmation button. "Today's resource conversion efficiency increased by 18.3%. The main contributions came from increased tool durability and the activation of new food sources."
"So, we're living a slightly more decent life now?" Chen Hao returned at some point, carrying a cup of hot water.
"It's not exactly dignified," Nana said, "but it has increased our survival redundancy."
"Translate this," Chen Hao said, frowning.
“It means,” Susan continued, “that even if there’s a power outage, water shortage, or broken tools, we’ll have more options.”
"Oh." Chen Hao took a sip. "That's quite useful."
It was completely dark outside, but the base was brightly lit. The workshop was still operating, someone in the kitchen was clearing away dishes, and the data stream on the control panel kept rolling.
Chen Hao leaned against the wall, watching everything unfold. He suddenly said, "If we had done this sooner, wouldn't we have avoided such a mess?"
“Impossible,” Nana said.
"ah?"
“Because you have to make mistakes to know what’s right.” Nana looked at him. “Your laziness, my stubbornness, Carl’s impatience, Susan’s hesitation—these aren’t the problems. The problem is that we used to think they didn’t affect the outcome.”
Chen Hao paused for a moment, then laughed. "So now we're... atoneing for our sins?"
“It’s not about atonement,” Susan shook her head. “It’s about extra lessons.”
"You have such a nice way of speaking." Chen Hao patted his belly. "If I had listened to you earlier, I wouldn't have gotten this fat."
“You can eat less now.” Karl came out of the workshop and handed him a piece of paper. “New tool improvement plan. See if there’s anything that needs to be changed.”
Chen Hao took it and glanced at it. "Add a handle? Sure. And put a soft cloth underneath, otherwise my hand will hurt after holding it for a long time."
“It was designed for you,” Carl said. “No one else has hands as big as yours.”
“Hey, I call that grip strength advantage!” Chen Hao retorted. “Besides, so what if I’m fat? Fat people dissipate heat slowly and are more resistant to the cold in winter.”
“What about summer?” Susan asked.
“In summer… I stay in the shade,” Chen Hao said matter-of-factly.
Nana suddenly spoke up: "The next batch of ore is expected to complete preliminary processing tomorrow, which can support the mass production of twenty tools. At the same time, the second batch of fruit has been harvested and is undergoing pre-fermentation processing."
"The pace is picking up." Chen Hao folded the paper and stuffed it into his pocket. "I'll personally supervise the work tomorrow to make sure nothing goes wrong."
"You're supervising?" Carl raised an eyebrow. "Last time you said you were supervising, you fell asleep and almost burned your foot in the forge."
"That's because I was too tired!" Chen Hao exclaimed, his eyes wide. "This time is different; I brought jam biscuits to keep me awake."
“Then you’d better be careful not to drop the biscuit in,” Susan laughed.
"Don't worry, my mouth is far away from the fire."
They stood there for a while; no one was in a hurry to leave. The work was still ongoing, the results were visible, and the next steps were clear.
Chen Hao suddenly remembered something. "By the way, when will that fungal cultivation chamber be completed?"
"The materials are all ready. We're just waiting for the workshop to schedule it," Carl said. "Probably the day after tomorrow."
"What's the first thing you'll do after you succeed?" Chen Hao asked.
"Connect the sensor and observe the stability of signal transmission," Nana replied.
"Then what?"
“Then let’s see if it can transmit a message,” Susan said.
"For example?" Chen Hao smiled.
“For example, ‘We’re out of jam today.’” Susan looked at him.
“Then I need to apply for priority access in advance.” Chen Hao rubbed his stomach. “After all, I’m the chief taste tester.”
The words had barely left his mouth when a soft thud came from the kitchen, like a jar tipping over. Then someone shouted, "Who touched my jam!"
Chen Hao immediately turned around and was about to rush over.
Nana reached out to stop him. "You exceeded your limit by 60% yesterday and have been marked as a high-risk user by the system."
"The system's gone mad!" Chen Hao struggled. "I only ate three cans!"
“Four and a half cans,” Nana said.
"I accidentally scooped out two extra spoonfuls!"
"The record shows that you scraped the bottom of the jar with bread for three minutes."
Everyone around laughed.
Chen Hao gave up resisting and leaned back against the wall, panting. "You guys are ganging up on Fatty."
“We’re just following the rules.” Nana released her grip.
"Rules are made by people too," Chen Hao muttered. "When I become a leader, the first rule will be unlimited jam."
“You already are,” Susan said.
"ah?"
“It’s written on the whiteboard.” She pointed towards the conference room, “‘Emergency Response Commander,’ and it’s signed by you.”
"That was a joke!" Chen Hao's eyes widened.
“Once a system is established, it won’t disappear,” Nana said. “You can resign, but you have to go through the proper procedures.”
"I have to write an application again?" Chen Hao rolled his eyes.
“At least three pages,” Carl nodded. “The reasons must be compelling, and a handover plan must be included.”
"You guys are really..." Chen Hao pointed at them, speechless for a long time.
Susan smiled and turned to walk towards the storeroom, carrying several jars of jam in her arms. Chen Hao stared at her retreating figure and suddenly called out, "Leave me one jar!"
"We'll vote on the allocation plan at tomorrow's morning meeting." She said without turning her head.
"It's definitely going to fail!" Chen Hao shouted at her retreating figure. "You're all afraid I'll become the leader, so you'll definitely vote against it!"
Nana stood still, her face reflected on the screen. She suddenly said, "I suggest adding a new management regulation: Commanders shall be entitled to an additional daily jam ration."
Chen Hao's eyes lit up. "This is what a smart assistant should be like!"
"The premise is," Nana paused, "that you can pass the physical fitness test."
"What?"
"Run 500 meters within a 10-minute time limit."
"This is tantamount to murder!" Chen Hao pointed at her. "I'm going to file a complaint!"
No one responded to him. Susan had already gone into the storage room, Carl went back to record the data, and Nana lowered her head to continue updating the log.
Chen Hao stood there, panting, looking wronged.
He muttered to himself, "The first thing I'll do when I'm no longer in command is format your system."
Nana looked up at him calmly.
"What did you say?"
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