Natalie stared at the chicken tied to the stick and suddenly realized what it meant. "Wait ... they ate all the cockroaches?" Harold grinned and nodded. Natalie frowned. "I thought chickens only ate grain, maybe soft bugs at most. But you're saying they eat cockroaches that big too?" Harold chuckled. "Chickens eat almost anything. Not just cockroaches. They'll even go after centipedes." Natalie felt her appetite for fried chicken vanish. How could such delicious poultry swallow anything that moved? Harold lifted the stick in his hand. "I picked the one that eats the most. Come on, Idol, pick whichever one you like."Natalie blinked. "For me?" He nodded. "Yeah. If you keep a chicken at home, you'll never worry about bugs again." She had to admit, it made sense. People always said if you saw one cockroach, there were already thousands of eggs hidden somewhere. This was the perfect time to keep a chicken around. She and Lucky both hated cockroaches, so they needed something fearless to keep the place clear. Natalie looked down and locked eyes with a young rooster. She remembered the box of chicks she had seen at the floating market. Back then, they had been fluffy yellow puffballs. Now, barely a month later, this one looked more like a rooster. It was still small, but the fuzz had turned into feathers, and a tiny red comb had sprouted on its head. It was in that awkward stage, not cute like a chick and not striking like a full-grown rooster. Yet even with its feet tied and body dangling, the bird held itself proudly, staring back without a hint of fear. Natalie pointed at it. "That one. I'll take it." Harold paused. "Wow, you've got an eye for this. They're all hens except that one rooster." He looked again to be sure. "You're sure you want him? Roosters don't lay eggs. If you take a hen, you'd get fresh eggs every day once she grows." Natalie waved him off. "No, I'll stick with this one. I like him." She already had plenty of fresh eggs stored. She didn't need more. Harold laughed. "Fair enough. Roosters eat a lot, but he'll clear out every cockroach in your place."Together, they untied the bird and handed it to her. Natalie held it close, studying it carefully. The more she looked, the more she liked it. The little guy had sharp eyes and plenty of spirit. She turned to Harold. "Hold on a second, I'll grab something for you." Harold shook his head quickly. "No need. This one's a gift. I've eaten enough of your skewers already. And hey, Olivia's got one too. Times are tough—we should look out for each other." Saying that, he walked over and knocked on Olivia's door. Natalie thought for a moment, then went back to 1402. She set the rooster in the living room, then pulled out some rat poison and clove oil from her storage. When she stepped out again, Olivia had just opened her door. Harold muttered impatiently, "What took you so long? Let me just—" He froze mid-sentence, his eyes widening. "Olivia?!" Natalie heard his voice and looked over in surprise. But Harold was blocking the doorway so tightly she could only glimpse a round, shiny shape. A head. A bald head. Her guard shot up. Did Olivia have a man in her apartment? She stiffened. "What's going on?" Harold shifted slightly, and Natalie finally saw who stood there. "Olivia?!" The woman who had once worn shoulder-length black hair now had no hair at all. Every strand was gone. It wasn't shaved smooth like a monk's head, but cut down short like a buzz cut. Olivia frowned at the way they were staring. "Why are you two yelling my name like that?" Harold stammered. "You ... we were just together a while ago, and now you're ... " Olivia tapped her bare head. "This?" She saw Natalie's wide eyes too, and she smiled as she explained. "The heat keeps getting worse, and long hair just traps it in. Plus, with all the sweat, my hair kept getting greasy and sticky. "Washing it wastes too much water. Who knows how long this heat wave will last? I'd rather save the water, so I shaved it off." Natalie nodded. "Yeah, that actually makes sense." In her past life, she had cut her hair too, though not quite this short.When water was scarce, long hair really was a burden—oily, matted, and impossible to manage. It was better to cut it off and stay clean. Harold still stood frozen, staring. Olivia jabbed him lightly in the chest with her fist. "What? You think I look ugly now?" He shook his head quickly. "No, not at all. I just ... need to get used to it." The truth was, Olivia had striking features. Without her hair, she actually looked sharper, almost boyish, but in a way that suited her.