CHAPTER 361: CHAPTER 13: KNOWING SHAME (PART 2)

There is no power generation equipment in the small town, so it’s difficult for surviving women to take a hot shower. Especially in winter, not bathing or changing clothes for three or four months makes people smell foul.

It’s currently summer, but power and water supply remain difficult. Although some survivalists manage to set up some solar panels, the power is generally too small to be useful.

The regression of industry has caused many normal lifestyles to disappear.

At this moment, being able to sit in an electric Pika with air conditioning blowing feels incredibly comfortable. The accompanying armed personnel even took ice cream out of the fridge—made themselves with milk powder and ice cream powder.

Although the taste isn’t particularly good, having something to eat is better than nothing.

All the women were quickly sent back to the camp in Avoni Town, where they could bathe, change clothes, receive medical treatment, have their records established, housing arranged, and their residence confirmed.

They soon discovered that compared to Bantu Town, the ’Holy Light’ team’s camp was like an Eden, full of vitality.

The most intuitive feeling was that there were many people.

In the post-apocalyptic world, having a large population implies rules, means more resources, and offers more opportunities.

To unite a community, sufficient public services must be provided. First is safety, followed by ’clothing, food, housing, transportation, medical care, water, and electricity’.

All of these are available in the camp—the camp was expanded a while ago to include a primary school in the town. The school’s classrooms became new dormitories for new members.

Due to the large population, the camp’s power supply was somewhat tight. Luckily, ’indigenous oil refining’ produced crude diesel, and the school’s power supply facility happened to have a diesel generator.

The town is small, and the primary school is naturally not large.

But the three-story reinforced concrete teaching building in the school appears particularly sturdy, and Zhou Qingfeng moved the camp’s command center there, which was certainly safer than a flammable wooden villa.

The newly joined surviving women were temporarily placed in several classrooms, each receiving a heavy box. Inside the box were personal daily necessities that were almost luxurious at the moment.

"You guys even provide tampons?" A woman found soft underwear, fragrant shampoo, and even cosmetics and refined perfume.

"I haven’t used these essentials for almost a year now..." one woman murmured with slightly red-rimmed eyes.

She found deodorant, a lady’s razor, and several pairs of stockings that symbolized a refined lifestyle before the apocalypse. Seeing these items, everyone sighed deeply, reminiscing about the lost days.

Jennifer came in with a medicine box, intending to conduct physical exams for them. The hardships of post-apocalypse life, poor diet, and hygiene conditions made these women commonly suffer from gynecological diseases.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to ask where these daily necessities came from. Although every abandoned town could find them, dedicating manpower and resources to collect these things now seems rather counterproductive?

Jennifer merely shrugged, "The fact that you’ve managed to hang in there and join us is actually a rare stroke of luck. Because our team made ample preparations before the disaster, stockpiling a large number of supplies."

Her tone then turned serious: "From now on, your job is to try your best to please the men you’ve chosen. It would be best if you could produce offspring for them soon. The men from ’Dongda’ care deeply about their descendants."

The women seemed mentally prepared; they understood their advantages in the current environment—relying on men is not disgraceful.

Jennifer continued with a somewhat teasing tone: "After some time, you’ll need to undergo a minor surgery to remove the sweat glands under your arms and in your groin."

"Surgery? Remove?" Such words evoke unease and fear.

All the women displayed bewilderment, with someone cautiously asking: "What is the purpose of this surgery? Is it necessary?"

Jennifer smiled, "Because the men you will be serving next have sensitive olfactory senses. Trust me, the surgery will greatly improve your body odor.

Otherwise, no matter how beautiful you are or how much perfume and deodorant you use, the men who rule the camp will keep their distance from you."

Some began to ponder, others remained confused, but somewhat at ease.

Stacy, considered the leader among these women, suddenly lowered her voice and tentatively asked, "Among the men who came to capture us today, there was a leader named Victor. He..."

Jennifer’s face instantly turned cold, her eyes sharply warning, "That’s my man, don’t even think about him, or I’ll tear your face apart.

You need to learn to behave and stop thinking about seducing more people; otherwise, I assure you you’ll end up dying very miserably."

Jennifer’s words drew a clear line, telling these newly joined women what they could do and what was absolutely off-limits.

Stacy seriously nodded in response: "Understood, we hate chaos and prefer rules. With rules, we can survive better."

All the women appeared tactful, as they knew—order and rules were in fact protecting the weak.

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After bustling for several hours, Jennifer meticulously conducted preliminary examinations for the newly arrived women, distributing medical supplies and basic hygiene products.

She methodically assigned several women as temporary managers, left behind a few walkie-talkies, and informed them of the method and channel for emergency contact before leaving the temporary infirmary.

The women were left in the collective ’dormitory.’

Soon, a group of "basic laborers" walked in, silently carrying the cold metal parts for bunk beds, and began assembling the beds with clattering noises.