On a snow-covered hill, seven or eight gaunt polar bears were digging through the snow, rummaging for food in a garbage dump.
Their fur was filthy, a far cry from its original pristine white, making them look more like faded brown bears.
As for the trash, it consisted of old plastic barrels, discarded wooden planks, and some rusted metal frames.
This garbage was piled up haphazardly, serving as a temporary refuge for the polar bears.
In Feng Mountain's mind, polar bears were supposed to live on the Arctic ice, well-fed and robust, with a charmingly clumsy appearance.
But these polar bears before him...
They looked... like refugees.
"It's a pitiful sight, isn't it?" Bruce said in a heavy tone, walking up to Feng Mountain with a bag in his hand.
As he spoke, he opened the bag, took out several frozen sea fish, and forcefully threw them onto the snow in the distance.
