The convoy sent out more than twenty people, but none have returned yet.
In the moral landscape of the apocalypse, who knows what the armed train wants from these people?
Yuan Wei's expression was uncertain.
Suddenly feeling something pulling his foot, Yuan Wei looked down to see his silly neighbor using his foot as leverage to crawl out from under the car.
"Look, I just dug this up, it's sweet!"
The silly neighbor spread his hand, revealing a white root in his blackened palm.
Yuan Wei glanced at it, changed color suddenly, and slapped the white root out of his hand. Without saying a word, he kicked the fool's stomach, causing the latter to fall beside the vehicle, clutching his abdomen in painful dry heaves. After a long time, only a little white foam came out.
Yuan Wei grabbed his collar and delivered several heavy slaps, snarling, "Don't eat random stuff, don't eat random stuff, are you trying to get yourself killed?!"
