According to the original owner's memory, she was sold to others by her parents as "ingredients" shortly after she was born.

Baby meat, a high-end ingredient in the wasteland.

Wastelanders who have a material basis to chase this enjoyment tend to be nitpicky about things – such as the amount of radiation.

Ironically, this deadly thing saved her life - she was thrown into the garbage heap as a result of the radiation test.

We have no way of knowing what kept this baby alive, perhaps it was God's preference, but if God really had a preference, how could he let her live in this world?

To live is torture, and all people are eager to do it.

She could fight for some minced meat in order to stay alive - perhaps someone inadvertently wasted it, or the dead meat scraped off in front of the small clinic with the most primitive treatment.

Naturally, she had been poisoned and infected, but nothing had taken the life of the Wasteland descendant.

Most of the high-tech products before the World War are in ruins, but even if there are few left, there are more people who survived the battle, and she stumbled upon a miniature computer in a garbage dump, which she has been wearing on her wrist ever since

Disasters have always been common, but after the first nuclear bomb exploded, even common cannot weigh how often it occurs.

Even in the tropics, the temperature difference between day and night is more than 20 degrees.

The temperature in the polar regions almost makes it suspicious that the atmosphere inside that circle is frozen in ice.

The dust that had been kicked up in the countless explosions turned into clouds of dust that obscured the sky and the sun, and traveled around the world with the atmosphere for a long time, showing no signs of falling, blocking any ray of sunlight that tried to descend on the earth.

That's unimaginable for modern people.

Maybe we can run to the prairie to blow the wind on a bloody impulse.

But here, the wind is a disaster.

- No one knows when the wind will stop, and it will travel from here to other places with dust, acid rain, thunder and lightning, and the radiation that will be splashed up by the explosion.

The original owner had experienced a radiation storm.

At that time she thought she would finally die here, but fate played a much more joke on her.

The storm came from afar, and an abandoned truck, perhaps tired of being played with in the palm of the storm, was thrown out of it and slammed into the ground, the force that made the earth tremble, and smashed a crack under her feet.

She fell.

The moment she passed out, she saw a streak of green fading and withering at a speed visible to the naked eye.

It was a basement built before the war by an environmentalist who was keen to collect cave plants.

Now, about 100 years have passed.

Plants that have been sealed underground for hundreds of years are still thriving in the absence of sunlight with a rudimentary water circulation device, but only a second of contact with the wasteland world, a small corner that cannot be smaller, will perish at an incredible speed.

Until then, she had always thought that only tasteless collectors would paint their door panels in radiant colors with that color of paint.

At that moment, she changed her mind exactly.

To live, don't lose your color.

When she woke up, she was buried in the earth...... It was a miracle that she did not suffocate to death, and in the following ten years, she could be said to be lucky to meet a caravan of "civilized people".

At that time, she realized that there was such a thing as a city in this world.

After three years of popular science, she probably knew what the world she lived in was like.

Another question came to her.

The city has a real-hand and relatively modern inequality between men and women.

Men can be in charge of going out to explore ruins, they can join the military, and they can be responsible for most of the functions in this society.

But women ...... Perhaps it is because in the first generation, because of the strategic positioning, women were characterized as "fertility machines" for a long time to come.

It's paradise – relative to the wasteland.

Since the city was the first to pick up the pre-war civilization technology, through the efforts of several generations, it has become almost indistinguishable from the pre-war world, and even with the efforts of a few people, some crops adapted to the wasteland, under their modification, the genes have been modified to far exceed the high yield of any pre-war crop, which can be said to solve the dietary problem in an instant.

As long as you work hard, you will be rewarded, which is why the city is called the "Garden of Eden".

In contrast to men's job diversity, women ...... Because food has been secured and medical care has been improved, women who are pregnant tend to enjoy the living conditions of the middle and upper classes of society.

…… No, or rather, it blocked any other way out for them.

This seems to have become an unspoken rule in this society - women cannot do any work except childbearing.

- Even if you are going to be a female branch, you can't do a good job of safety measures.

When they resist, women who have lost their security as minors often face the most difficult survival problem – they have to go out to the wasteland to find food on their own.

Choice: Become a fertility machine, live a stable life, be painted as a poster, and be admired; Or, to be a wastelander, a pig or a dog is not as good as it.

After graduating from literacy, the original owner wanted to apply for a position in botany and environmental improvement, but was rejected by others because of insufficient academic qualifications.

If this is a hard condition, it is okay if it does not meet it, the original owner borrowed some money from some people to get a genetic degree.

It's just that the people she is looking for are not very good......

In terms of learning, it may be because of this hard-won life, her talent and efforts far beyond others have always made her always in the top ten of her grade, but in the whole class, 96% of the males, except for her, there is only one other girl in the lower middle grade.

Her mentor repeatedly called her into the office to talk to her about something, but often stopped asking her what she wanted to do in the future.

She didn't know what was hidden in those sighing eyes until she was expelled.

"You really can't help it in the future, just come to me."

The meaning of this sentence was only understood when she went to apply.

In that interview, in addition to her, there was also a man - the other party's major was not right, and the grades were not excellent, and there was a record of a major demerit on the file, the reason was "discrimination against women".

Thinking about how naïve I was at that time, I would be self-righteous and confidently think that the position must be my own.

When she returned to her temporary accommodation, there was a poster on the wall by the side of the road, and she just swept it lightly, without paying much attention.

A woman, shyly clutching her bulging belly, has another line of vertical words: "Labor is the most glorious".

The next day, two notices were sent to the mailbox in front of her door along with the results of the last interview.

One of the notices told her that since she had not yet opened an online account, the results of the interview would be delivered in kind, and urged her to open an online account as soon as possible.

The result of the interview was that she had no work experience, so she was not hired this time.

The final notice was to tell her that her temporary residence would expire next quarter and that she should find a job as soon as possible and that she would be officially registered as a resident.