I chose the safe house, and the Human Alliance regretted it.

The girl paused for a moment.

She realized that her older brother wasn't joking.

After a three-second silence,

"I don't want to!"

The girl spoke with unwavering resolve, her little fists clenched tightly, her eyes blazing like two balls of fire.

Wang Wei remained expressionless, simply watching her quietly.

He had seen that expression far too many times.

Firm, resolute, and beyond question.

But these people often turn out differently at the most crucial moment.

"Is that so?" he said softly, his tone flat. "Think about it, how many fewer people would die over several decades?"

Wang Wei began to coax, "There are many people like you and your grandfather who can survive."

"They no longer need to fear disasters, no longer need to hide underground, and no longer need to worry about being eaten by strange beasts one day."

The girl was stunned for a moment.

Her mouth opened and then closed.

She lowered her head, looking at her toes, her little hands unconsciously clenching the hem of her clothes.

The electronic screen in the square was still playing Chen Junjie's speech, and cheers came in waves.

But in this corner, everything was as quiet as another world.

"Think about it, how many lives can be saved with decades of peace and stability?" Wang Wei said softly.

"Your grandfather can live for decades longer. You can grow up, get married, and have children. Your children won't be born in the apocalypse, and you won't have to worry about starving or being eaten one day."

The girl looked up at Wang Wei.

The determination that had been there before was gone from her eyes, replaced by a hint of confusion.

After a moment, she suddenly pouted: "You said it's just about living a few more decades, but what about after that?"

She paused, as if encouraging herself: "Without the prophet, we might all be dead. With the prophet, we can keep winning."

"Without a prophet, what will happen decades from now?" As she finished speaking, the girl's eyes hardened again.

Wang Wei remained silent for a moment.

He did not refute it.

However, Wang Wei asked in a different way: "Where's your grandfather?"

"What?" the girl asked, puzzled.

"If only one of the prophet and your grandfather could live, who would you choose?"

After saying this, Wang Wei himself felt that this question was somewhat cruel to the girl.

Seven or eight-year-old children should not be faced with such a choice.

But if that day really comes, no one can escape it.

Everyone has to make a choice.

The girl paused for a moment, then subconsciously looked at the old man.

Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

Her confidence was clearly waning.

Her grandfather was her only living relative.

But the prophet had also saved her life, and saved her grandfather's life.

If it weren't for the prophet, she and her grandfather would have been stewed by those cannibalistic foreign superhumans long ago.

She didn't know what to choose.

Just then, the girl's grandfather spoke up.

The old man's voice was hoarse, but every word was exceptionally firm.

"No, not either."

Wang Wei was taken aback.

The little girl's eyes reddened, and she mumbled softly, "Grandpa..."

The old man affectionately stroked the girl's face, his rough fingers gently tracing her delicate skin.

There was no hesitation or struggle in the old man's eyes.

There's only one thing that's hard to explain.

Steadfast, insightful, a tranquility born from the vicissitudes of life.

"Without the prophet, we would have been eaten long ago." The old man's voice was not loud, but very steady. "It is the prophet who has allowed us to live this long."

He looked at Wang Wei, his cloudy eyes showing no sign of flinching.

"Even if my grandfather and I die now, we would not choose to let the prophet sacrifice himself."

Wang Wei fell silent.

He could tell that the old man was speaking from the heart.

It wasn't some grand, fancy talk; there were no lies, no acting.

That's what he thought, that's what he said.

Wang Wei gave a wry smile.

An ordinary old man, a lowly person struggling to survive in the apocalypse, understands gratitude better than those high-ranking officials sitting in conference rooms.

Wang Wei suddenly remembered his previous life.

Those he saved, those who knelt on the ground to thank him, those who swore they would never forget him.

When the terms of the deal were proposed, they chose to sacrifice him without hesitation.

He heard with his own ears the thunderous cheers from the various bases.

"Die quickly, or the disaster will come back to haunt you!"

"With the prophet dead, we can live in peace for thirty years..."

"............."

But just then, the old man suddenly gave a self-deprecating laugh.

There was no sadness or anger in that smile, only a heartbreaking helplessness.

He grinned, his wrinkles crinkling together. "But if that day ever comes, I'm afraid we won't have a choice."

Wang Wei turned to look at the old man.

The old man continued, his voice growing softer, "Do you think people like us have the right to choose whether a prophet lives or dies?"

Wang Wei took a deep breath.

"Perhaps there will be a nationwide referendum," Wang Wei said.

The old man shook his head helplessly and chuckled twice.

"Vote? We're electing a village chief in our village, and I don't even know who cast the votes."

"Anyway, the final red paper posted said 'Unanimously approved,' and I didn't even raise my hand."

He paused, a flicker of indescribable emotion flashing in his cloudy eyes.

"Haven't we always been the ones being represented?"

Wang Wei did not interrupt him.

The old man continued, speaking slower and softer, as if speaking to himself, or perhaps to the world:

"Later I figured it out: it's not that we elect the representatives, it's that the representatives elect us."

"Once they've made their selections, they'll let us know, and we'll just nod. Not nodding won't change anything."

He lowered his head and looked at his rough, calloused hands.

"Anyway, the final outcome, whether it's what we wanted or not, is decided by someone else."

"Our job is simply to celebrate the results."

After saying that, the old man took the girl's hand and stood up.

The little girl obediently stood up, her little hand held tightly by her grandfather.

She glanced back at Wang Wei, her eyes still red.

"Let's go, little girl," the old man said.

"Grandpa..." the little girl whispered, "Viagra, he..."

"He's alright." The old man didn't turn around, but just pulled the girl forward. "He has more things to think about than we do, and they're bigger than ours. Let's not disturb him."

The girl nodded, glanced back at Wang Wei, and then disappeared into the crowd with the old man.

The electronic screen in the square was still playing Chen Junjie's speech.

Cheers, applause, and shouts came in waves, like a tide that never stops.

Everyone was laughing, excited, and cheering for the alliance's plan.

Wang Wei sat motionless.

After a long time,

He suddenly laughed.