Chapter 398 The Depths of Ark Camp Three
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The other two camps were stunned when they saw the abundance and low prices of the fruit Theresa was offering.
Growing fruit on their own was a real struggle. All three camps were located in remote, barren regions- ces where even weeds barely grew, let alone crops. Producing a single harvest of fruit took tremendous effort, time, and resources. But Theresa? She could supply them with crates of assorted fruit in one go.
Why bother wasting resources growing their own?
They could just buy from her.
Theresa’s fruit sold out in no time.
Morgan told her to send over as much as she had.
Theresa was thrilled. She had the camp workers pack up all the bruised, ugly, and overripe fruit–the stuff nobody at home wanted–and sent it off to trade for foreign supplies.
Half a month passed in the blink of an eye.
Theresa was just getting ready to head over to Morgan’s camp to nt a few spies when a bombshell of a message came through.
A vast mountain range stretched endlessly, its rugged peaks twisting like a giant spine across thend.
Tucked deep in the mountains, halfway up a steep cliff, stood a massive building clinging to the rock face. The structure was partially embedded in the slope, surrounded by sharp drop–offs and snow–covered peaks looming overhead.
Arge open spacey in front of the building, enclosed by tall, reinforced fencing. Beyond the fence, a vertical drop plunged straight into a bottomless ravine.
Out through the main gate came a group of people, so small against the backdrop that they looked like ants, pushing a battered garbage cart.
The freezing air outside the camp immediately made them flinch and take a few steps back.
Thick snowkes rode in on the wind, stinging as they struck their faces and bodies.
Shivering violently, the group clutched at their threadbare clothes–nothing about what they wore was built for cold. Just then, a frigid mechanical voice rang out: ‘Return to camp within one minute.”
The camp’s alert snapped them into action. They began moving again
Crack!
One of them–a scrawny figure, the smallest in the group–slipped and fell
The cart nearly tipped over.
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Chapter 398 The Depths of Ark Camp Three
But at thest second, a strong hand grabbed hold of him.
“Hang in there.”
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The boy looked up at the man beside him. Hisrge, bright eyes–sunken from hunger–locked onto the man’s face as he nodded with quiet determination. “Okay, Dad.”
Thud!
One after another, the heavy carts dumped loads of garbage into the endless chasm below.
Once they’d unloaded everything, the group turned and pushed the empty carts back toward the camp. moving fast to beat the countdown.
By the 59–second mark, they were back inside, snow–covered and breathless.
Immediately, everyone began stamping their feet, rubbing their hands, trying to chase the cold from their bones.
It was bitter.
Unbearably bitter.
“Achoo!”
Someone sneezed.
But he quickly covered his mouth and nose, then pped his own cheeks, trying to look alert and healthy.
Because in Ark Camp Three, getting sick meant being disposable.
If they weren’t dragged upstairs to be ab rat, they’d be tossed straight into the ravine.
This camp had no use for the weak or unwell./
After finishing the garbage run, the group returned the carts to their designated spot and started scrubbing down the trash site.
In front of them loomed a deep shaft.
It ran straight up through the floors of the camp–a chute connecting every level from top to bottom.
This was Ark Camp Three’s dump
Tons of waste rained down from aljove each day.
Their job was to clear the garbage, haul it out, and clean the area.
Neen hours a day. No days off Ever
They endured the stench and the exhaustion without pause.
Because if they stopped, the trash would pile up fast–and that meant punishment.
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Chapter 398 The Depths of Ark Camp Three
Even in a ce like Ark Camp Three, these people were at the very bottom.
Still, sometimes… they got lucky.
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Sometimes, something halfway decent would fall down with the garbage–like scraps of leftover food from the top–floor clites.
Of course, the elites‘ servants usually picked the leftovers clean before tossing them.
But once in a while, something edible made it through.
If they were lucky, maybe half a chicken drumstick. If not, maybe a bone with a little meat stuck to it. Either way, they’d take it home, wash it off, and eat it.
There was no shame in that.
Not when they lived on two meals a day–a thin bowl of oatmeal in the morning, a in bread roll at night, with not a drop of oil in between.
To them, those scraps were a gift from heaven.
And today, luck was on their side.
Just as they finished cleaning the dump, arge white stic bag came tumbling down from the top chute.
It hit the floor with a heavy thud<i>. </i>
The little boy was the first to reach it and rip it open.
What he saw inside made him freeze.
“Dad! Look! Hurry!”
The boy shouted with excitement, waving his arms.
The <b>man </b>who had been scrubbing the wall turned at the sound, along with the others.
They rushed over and peered inside the <b>bag</b>–and what they saw left them all stunned.