“It really can sing… No, it made my stomach and soul start singing.” Henry Brooks made an association and sighed sincerely.

On the other side, Alice Cooper looked around and lowered her voice:

“I heard the company wants to take away everyone’s reproductive rights.”

“Huh?” This topic caught Charlotte Reed off guard, and for a moment he couldn’t understand what it meant.

Alice Cooper glanced at Brian Carter, who was still smiling, and continued:

“The company might have couples who want children hand over biological materials under the guidance and assistance of doctors.

“Then, they’ll set up a big ‘reproduction center’ in the research area, where everything from in vitro cultivation, artificial womb gestation, to baby growth assistance and intervention will be handled uniformly. In short, by the time you take your child home, they might already be several years old.

“They say it’s to liberate women from pregnancy and childbirth, and to ease the company’s labor shortage.”

As Alice Cooper said this, a woman in her twenties who was watching nearby couldn’t help but speak up:

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“How can that be a good thing?” Alice Cooper’s face darkened. “Giving birth to life is a sacred right granted to us by the gods—uh, by heaven. How can we hand that over to machines? How will you bond with your own children then?”

“Yeah, exactly.” A man sitting diagonally across from her ran his hand through his hair and said worriedly, “They say the old world was destroyed in the end because of a series of taboo experiments that violated ethics.”

Alice Cooper nodded repeatedly, then turned to look at Brian Carter and Charlotte Reed:

“Xiao Shang, Xiao Yue, what do you two think? Don’t you also feel that giving birth to life is the key to being human, a sacred right bestowed by heaven?”

Brian Carter nodded without hesitation:

“Yes.”

Seeing Aunt Ren’s eyes wide open and bloodshot as she stared at him, Charlotte Reed let out a low “hiss” and said:

“Yes, yes.”

“You two really understand things.” Alice Cooper smiled.

At this moment, an employee laughed and said:

“Aren’t you all taking this too seriously? It’s just a rumor. My uncle works at a subsidiary of the board, and he’s never heard of it!”

Alice Cooper responded very seriously:

“Just a reminder for everyone. If someone comes to ask for your opinion, you must oppose it.”

Some people fell silent, some nodded, and someone with a vivid imagination asked:

“If this rule is really implemented, will they cancel marriage and unified matchmaking too?”

The man who had mentioned the old world rumors before put on an affected tone and said:

“No.

“Director Ji has said that a harmonious and healthy marriage is the key to maintaining employees’ mental stability in the current environment.”

Director Ji is David Morgan, a member of the company’s board, vice president, and an M3-level executive. He often gives speeches on the radio, and at the end and beginning of each year, he greets everyone through the “activity center” display screens.

As everyone was discussing, a bell suddenly rang next door to the “activity center”:

“Ding-ling-ling!”

Except for a few, almost everyone seemed to hear a bugle call and stood up at once.

This round of ringing came from the “supply market,” reminding everyone that there were only three minutes left before the cafeteria opened.

Seeing the neighbors start heading toward the “employee cafeteria,” Charlotte Reed glanced at Brian Carter beside him:

“You actually agreed with Aunt Ren.”

Brian Carter looked straight ahead and said:

“Try asking the question another way.”

Charlotte Reed frowned slightly, thought for a moment in confusion, and said:

“What do you think of the ‘reproduction center’ system that liberates women from pregnancy and childbirth?”

Brian Carter answered without hesitation:

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“……” Charlotte Reed was left speechless.

As they spoke, the two had already arrived outside the “supply market.”

There was no main door here, so you could see everything inside at a glance:

On the left was the market with long tables and counters, where many employees who didn’t want to eat in the cafeteria were picking and choosing, silently calculating. On the right was the “employee cafeteria,” with doors and windows, and delicious smells wafting out.

Before long, the cafeteria doors opened, and the employees from the 495th floor, some carrying their own utensils, some empty-handed, entered in an orderly fashion.

Brian Carter didn’t bring a lunchbox. After entering, he separated from Charlotte Reed, turned to the right, and picked up two large wooden bowls and a tray.

Then, carrying his utensils, he followed the fixed route, trailing the people ahead, and walked to different windows.

“Half a jin of sweet potato rice.”

“One serving of stewed cabbage.”

“Two multigrain steamed buns.”

“One serving of boiled potatoes.”

After passing through four windows, Brian Carter’s two bowls were already filled to the brim—stewed cabbage topped with boiled potatoes and two yellowish steamed buns, and the sweet potato rice was packed so tightly in the other bowl it looked like it might burst.

And this had already cost Brian Carter 14 contribution points: half a jin of sweet potato rice for 5 points, one multigrain steamed bun for 2 points, one serving of boiled potatoes for 2 points, and one serving of stewed cabbage with oil for 3 points.

Finally, Brian Carter arrived at the window with the richest aroma.

This was the meat window.