Book One: Prelude

Chapter One: Unified Allocation

495th floor, Zone C. The activity center, with gray-green outer walls covered in all kinds of graffiti, saw six or seven girls walk in, their expressions either excited, expectant, or nervous.

Their clothes were simple in style and plain in color, mainly blue, black, white, and green, but each of them was strikingly beautiful, in the prime of youth.

Glancing at the floor’s only LCD display, the leading girl couldn’t help but whisper:

“I wonder what kind of husband the company will assign me?”

“It’s mainly about personality.” The girl beside her, wearing a green top and blue pants, bit her lip as she spoke.

As the second generation to benefit from the widespread use of gene modification drugs, they weren’t worried about their future husbands’ looks or height—everyone was above average anyway.

The leading girl shot her companion a glance:

“Did you forget? Besides people our age, those whose wives have already passed away are also in the unified marriage pool. Some of them are already in their forties or fifties, never went through embryonic gene modification, and have a lot of defects.”

To ensure enough newborns, the company they belonged to had a rule: “Anyone who is 20 years old or has graduated from higher education and has not freely married will have a spouse assigned by the company. Those who refuse will be punished by the ‘Order Supervision Department.’ The first violation results in reduced energy allocation and deduction of contribution points; the second violation leads to exile from the company, left to fend for oneself on the Ashlands.”

Similarly, widowers who have not raised offspring must participate in the unified allocation three years after losing their spouse, as long as they are under 60.

“And even if it’s not those people, don’t you all hope your future husband is from an M-level family?” Another girl joined in, making a joke.

The company was divided into three tiers: first, D-level employees, from D1 to D9; second, M-level management, from M1 (director level) to M3 (board members, chief scientists); and third, with no letter code, only a title: “the Big Boss,” an exceptionally mysterious lady.

The girl in the green top and blue pants curled her lip:

“When have you ever heard of someone from an ordinary floor being assigned a spouse from the 346th, 347th, 348th, or 349th floors?”

Floors 346 to 349 were where the M-level managers lived, with abundant energy supply and per capita living space more than ten times that of the ordinary employee floors. These four floors had their own independent elevators, water purification, ventilation, sewage, and education systems. Their children normally wouldn’t interact with those of ordinary employees.

The only exception was higher education, since the company had only one university, on the 350th floor.

Children of ordinary employees had to take exams to determine whether they would start working or enter university, while management’s children could attend higher education without exams.

Within the company, everyone hoped to become management, and everyone wanted to connect with management.

As for the “Big Boss,” ordinary employees not only never interacted with her, they didn’t even know what she looked like. Only at year’s end, the beginning of the year, or during major events would they hear her voice over the broadcast. So, very few people fantasized about being noticed by the “Big Boss” and suddenly rising to management.

Of course, “very few” still meant some, just not many.

The leading girl laughed and said:

“That’s why I always told you all to date freely in school. Look at Grace Brooks—her husband was reserved by the ‘Material Management Department’ as soon as he graduated. Her family must have connections!”

“William Clark, you have the nerve to say that? Why didn’t you date freely?” The other girls teased in unison.

“You all know me, don’t you? My specialty is just talking big.” William Clark admitted without a hint of shame that she didn’t have the courage.

After laughing about this for a while, the girl in the green top and blue pants asked curiously:

“William Clark, do you know what level Grace Brooks’s husband’s family is? You two have always been close.”

William Clark looked around, then lowered her voice:

“I heard he’s the director of an operations cluster in the Security Department.”

“Wow…” As the girls exclaimed, a group of young men entered through the activity center’s main door.

The two groups sized each other up for a few seconds, then shyly looked away—after all, no one could be sure if their future husband (or wife) was among those across from them.

A man about 1.75 meters tall, with a neat crew cut, glanced at the few worn tables and the benches and chairs around them in the activity center. Somewhat nervous, he said to his companion:

“Brian Carter, what kind of wife do you think the company will assign me?”