Inside the building.
Zhou Huai looked ordinary, just an average person among the crowd.
The other survivors in this building had noticeably less color in their faces and were much thinner.
Some looked pale, others frail.
Clearly, malnutrition had weakened their bodies.
"Brother Huai, I have something to report."
At this moment, a young man came running, grinning fawningly as he approached Zhou Huai, bowing low. The pressure of the apocalypse had bent his back.
He could no longer live upright.
The survivors cleaning up inside the building heard this and their expressions changed slightly. They knew this young man was Zhou Huai's lackey, specializing in tattling.
He did it to curry favor with Zhou Huai and get a share of the leftovers.
As a result, the other survivors in this shelter disliked him.
But what could they do, really?
Who made him good at sucking up, becoming Zhou Huai's lackey, with more influence than them? Offending him would only lead to trouble.
