“Future Commander, I heard from Commander Dublin that you used to live in town and led a very tough life?” the Great Hoodwinker asked as he watched the refugees outside the stronghold.
They did not directly distribute the potatoes to them and instead walked among the tens of thousands of them to observe their state of hunger.
The refugees were emaciated skeletons. This meant their bodies had consumed all the glycogen in their bodies, and even their fat had almost been depleted.
The stench in some of the makeshift shacks was overwhelming. No one knew when the people inside had died, and some people were even holding their stomachs in unbearable pain. It could be that they had either eaten something raw that damaged their stomachs, or their stomachs were already perforated.
Milo answered, “When I was living in Stronghold 113’s town, my life truly was very tough, but it wasn’t bad to this extent. Because I’d always lived in that environment, I learned from others how to find food so that I wouldn’t starve to death. Meanwhile, some of these refugees were stronghold residents who’ve just encountered a huge disaster and don’t have any wilderness survival skills, so they might die before they can adapt to the environment.”
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