He looked from left to right, then from right to left, hesitated for a moment, and said:

　　“Give me a serving of braised pork, with extra sauce.”

　　The auntie at the window, dressed in a gray-blue uniform, scooped up three pieces of braised pork—each as long as a finger, marbled with fat and lean, and temptingly colored—and poured them into the bowl of sweet potato rice belonging to Brian Carter.

　　The soy-colored meat sauce in the ladle quickly spread out, moistening nearly half the bowl of rice.

　　“Good thing you came early. If you were any later, there wouldn’t be any left.” The window auntie, who lived in the same “neighborhood” as Brian Carter, was very friendly to him. “32 points.”

　　Brian Carter glanced at the three hefty pieces of braised pork, took out his electronic card, and swiped it on the machine.

　　He then said thank you, picked up a free bowl of clear soup, walked around the cafeteria for a bit, found Charlotte Reed, and sat down across from him.

　　“Wow, that’s extravagant.” Charlotte Reed exclaimed sincerely when he saw his dinner.

　　Brian Carter ignored him, first moving the portion of sweet potato rice mixed with meat sauce to one side, then picked up a piece of braised pork and took a gentle bite.

　　As the aroma of the meat exploded in his mouth, Brian Carter quickly lowered his head and shoveled in a mouthful of sweet potato rice that hadn’t been touched by the sauce.

　　He ate faster and faster. By the time he finished the three pieces of braised pork, only a small portion of sweet potato rice and stewed cabbage remained, while the boiled potatoes and multigrain steamed bun were completely gone.

　　Finally, Brian Carter dumped the stewed cabbage into his rice bowl, mixed it with the remaining sweet potato rice and meat sauce, and finished it all in one go.

　　“So satisfying.” Brian Carter and Charlotte Reed put down their bowls and chopsticks at the same time, sighing in contentment.

　　After finishing his clear soup, Charlotte Reed casually asked:

　　“Going to the ‘activity center’?”

　　Brian Carter shook his head:

　　“Going back to listen to the radio and get some rest early.”

Chapter 5 “The Stars”

　　Charlotte Reed opened his mouth, as if wanting to persuade him:

　　“…Alright then.”

　　Brian Carter sat for a while longer, picked up his tray, walked toward the exit, and handed everything he was carrying to the cafeteria staff stationed there.

　　Outside the “material supply market,” rows of fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling at regular intervals, illuminating the paths leading to the rest of the floor. Employees of different ages and genders gathered in small groups, some heading to the “activity center,” some returning home together, and some watching children run around and play.

　　Brian Carter walked among them, quickly left Area C, passed through a street where the walls were covered in graffiti, and entered Area B, where the rooms were even more densely packed.

　　In most of the “residential area” of this underground building, the concept of a house didn’t really exist—employees simply lived in rooms, not houses. Many who worked in the “internal ecological zone” and had seen real beehives often compared themselves to bees.

　　However, the corridors between the rows of rooms were quite spacious, paved with milky white, smooth stone tiles, wide enough for at least five or six people to walk side by side.

　　This was a company-mandated rule, supposedly to handle certain emergencies and prevent congestion at critical moments.

　　Brian Carter walked for a while and saw his own room.

　　It looked no different from the rooms to its left, right, or across the hall. The walls were pure black with a certain sheen, giving them a sense of depth. The large wooden door was a reddish-brown, and next to it was a small four-pane window.

　　The only way Brian Carter could confirm this room was his was the white number on the door:

　　“No. 196.”

　　Area B, Room 196, Floor 495.

　　Brian Carter reached into his pocket, took out a brass-colored key, inserted it into the matching lock, and gently turned it.

　　With a click, Brian Carter pressed down on the door handle with his other hand and pushed forward, opening the door.

　　The door stopped halfway open, blocked by Brian Carter’s stove behind it.

　　This was a room two meters wide, three meters deep, and four meters high. A wooden bed, just long enough for Brian Carter to stretch out his legs while sleeping, was placed horizontally at the far end, leaving less than ten centimeters of space between the foot of the bed and the wall. There was, of course, no room for any other furniture, but expansion bolts were embedded in the wall, from which hung two sets of plain, simply styled clothes.

　　Next to them, separated by half a sheet of plastic film, was a standalone washbasin. On the other side of the washbasin was a stove with a vent pipe above and a cabinet below.

　　Brian Carter had always been quite satisfied with these two amenities, since not every room had them.

　　This underground building had far too many floors and housed far too many people. Whether it was the elevators, the ventilation system, the drainage system, or the power supply, all faced tremendous challenges. As a result, there were many elevators, divided among different areas, each only reaching certain designated floors. The ventilation and drainage systems were also split into subsystems, with every fifteen floors or a specific number of floors sharing one subsystem.

　　This way, even if a malfunction occurred, it would only affect a portion of the area and wouldn’t cause a total collapse.

　　To ensure the stability of the drainage system, only a small number of the many rooms built later by the company were connected to the pipes.