This is also why we had to upgrade this "big pot" to level 3 armor.
Initially, it was just an ordinary carriage, but after a few burns, it turned into a hole.
After switching to level 3 armor, this problem was resolved.
A very odd-looking, process-revealing-everywhere-with-strange-and-wasteland-aura big pot stove was completed, with dozens of women holding Car Blade Fragments to quickly slice meat and wash vegetables on the side.
And that person found among the residents, claiming to have been the head chef of a five-star hotel, is now continually stirring within the carriage with the help of two or three strong lads, holding an extremely long giant ladle.
Is also bound using a table leg.
Old Pig looked at this scene and suddenly laughed, his eyes full of confusion and sentiment, although since following Master Mang, he hadn’t gone hungry for a long time, and every day he could fill up with buns, even choosing between two fillings: meat sauce and spicy sauce.
After all, those are products from the production line, essentially fast food.
Things made from iron ore, you couldn’t expect them to be any good.
He hadn’t seen this kind of smokiness for a long time, giving him an illusion as if he wasn’t in the Doomsday, but still in a civilized society, it felt so good...
If the Constant Star Train could continue to develop , it would be great. Follow current novᴇls on NovᴇlFirᴇ.ɴet
Two hours later, steaming hot vapor rose from that half-carriage, and this pot of pork and cabbage stew with noodles, without cabbage, was finally completely finished; the pig that was previously frozen in the fridge had been chopped up and thrown in.
Then began the meal distribution.
Tonight everyone had enough buns, as for the portion of meat, it was distributed according to the different resident levels, but even a level 3 resident could ensure a piece of meat in the bowl.
A man who just joined the train enjoying level 3 resident treatment, full of excitement, hugged the bowl of noodles in his hands, with four buns stuck on his chopsticks, running to the corner, gazing at the heap of hot noodles in the bowl, and the piece of pork belly on top.
He carefully picked up a piece of meat and bit half, feeling the burst of aroma in his mouth.
His eyes suddenly started to turn red.
Then he pushed the bit piece of meat to the bottom of the bowl, tossed buns into the bowl to soak with the stew’s juice, and devoured it wolfishly, soon finishing four buns and a bowl of stew, taking a deep breath before placing the last half piece of meat into his mouth.
Chewing extremely gently, afraid that the next moment it would melt and disappear, until it finally dissolved nearly into a powdery state in his mouth, reluctantly swallowing it.
Placing the bowl and chopsticks aside.
The night wind blew, and tears finally couldn’t help but slip from the corner of his eyes, looking toward the distant city ruins, only feeling a tightness in his chest, he hadn’t used a bowl and chopsticks for a long time, somewhat unaccustomed to it.
This was brought back by Biao today, handed out freely to everyone.
Gripping the chopsticks again, it made him feel human once more.
Ever since Doomsday arrived and his family all died, he hadn’t shed a tear, living muddledly each day, having been a slave on many trains, long becoming numb to it, but... after joining the Constant Star Train, everything changed.
He even had time to grieve, to think about his deceased family.
If his family had joined not that train from the beginning, but the Constant Star Train, perhaps they wouldn’t have been ravaged to death. On the Constant Star Train, every woman could freely choose her career; no one would force you.
Even Master Mang and those mid-level managers like Biao, would never force any woman, what you want to do completely depends on you.
A middle-aged man approached, sat beside the man, patting his shoulder and taking out a cigarette to light for himself, then handed another one to the man: "Stop crying, finishing a meal and crying messily, don’t let people think you’re eating a meal offered to your family."
"Your family all died?"
The red-eyed man hurriedly restrained his emotion, taking the cigarette handed by the middle-aged man, the collar showing level 1 resident treatment, likely an elder of this train, holding a higher status.
"It’s good they died."
The middle-aged man breathed out deeply, finding a comfortable position, satisfiedly gazing at the horizon with a smile: "My family also died, my wife had her stomach ripped open by zombies right in front of me."
"With them all dead, there’s no longing, otherwise thinking about those few on the other side, worrying every day whether your family is dead or alive is not a good feeling."
"I’ve been on many trains."
"Constant Star is the best treatment I’ve seen, also the strongest. Since fortune brought you here, work hard, and when you’re enjoying level 1 resident treatment too, you can swap Fixed Star Coupons for cigarettes, so when you catch red-eyed, you can say it was from smoke."
"There’s no longing."
"You’re different, hey, there’s quite a few girls over there, find one that suits you and build a family, at least you have assistance in the Doomsday."
The man nodded firmly, then looked at the middle-aged man beside him, exchanged glances, suddenly laughing, patting each other’s shoulder.
The most luxurious thing is never material, but hope.