Doomsday America.

Chapter 407 Dignity and Respect

Old Bert's arrival improved the atmosphere in the ward. Gavin chatted with them for a while before finally leaving the ward to visit other wards.

After visiting each of the seriously injured patients, Gavin did not leave the hospital until nearly midnight.

When we passed through the residential area, the guys had already started eating. Although most of the families in the residential area were living in the apocalypse, they chose to cook for themselves.

But there are still nearly seventy or eighty people who will huddle together near the food area prepared by the logistics department, fill up with the food prepared by the chefs, and chat and eat on the side.

When Gavin came out of the hospital, the guys who were eating were all stunned.

Immediately, someone put down their plate, ran towards Gavin from a distance, and whispered a question to him.

"Boss, why are you in the hospital? Are you injured?"

"No, thank you for your concern, but the person who can hurt me hasn't appeared yet."

Gavin responded confidently to his companion's words, then waved to the others from afar before striding back to the manor.

He had just entered the hall when two guards at the entrance saluted him.

Inside the hall, Eugene, who was sitting on the sofa, suddenly stood up, rushed to Martin's left side, grabbed Martin's shoulder, and said to Gavin.

"Haha, boss, come over here and hear some damn good news!"

"Guess what that bastard Martin found today!"

"He actually found a herd of pigs, at least fifty of them, in the forest right next to that damn Hall town!"

"I wonder what those pigs have been eating. They're not exactly fat and muscular, but they're certainly not skinny. They'd smell amazing roasted!"

"We've already slaughtered ten of the pigs, and while we're at it, we've started raising the remaining forty-odd pigs near the cattle pen."

"And those pigs that have already been slaughtered, the chefs have to smoke and roast them for over ten hours!"

"So tomorrow, before we set off, we'll be able to enjoy the most authentic hand-shredded pork!"

At this point, Eugene excitedly patted Martin on the shoulder.

Martin responded with a lazy chuckle.

Gavin, on the other hand, heard about hand-shredded pork.

He even showed a rare hint of anticipation.

Although pork has never been a staple in the American diet, that doesn't mean Americans don't have their own ways of cooking pork.

Especially in the American South, dishes like shredded pork are among the favorites of Southern farmers!

The preparation of this dish is extremely complicated. Chefs will remove the internal organs and drain the blood from the pork, then split the whole pig in half and put it into a smokehouse to smoke for at least fifteen hours.

Once this half-pig is out of the oven, its skin will become a crispy, charred outer shell, while the pork inside will be so tender that it will come right out of the mold!

That's right, it's demolded directly, and that's no exaggeration!

Back then, all the chefs had to do was take the half-pig that had already been vertically split in half and smoked, and then split it horizontally again to get two quarter-pigs, each with its front and hind legs connected.

After further processing by the chefs, each part of the pig will be separated into its own portions.

Especially the pork leg; the chefs only need to hold the smoked and roasted pork trotters until they are crispy and gently tilt them, and the meat of the pork leg will slide out silkily.

Most importantly, in this step, the chef not only gets the pork, but also a hollow, complete pork leg skin that is hard and crispy with almost no pork inside!

The chefs will temporarily preserve the crispy skin of this whole pig leg.

Then they would use their hands to completely tear apart the pork leg meat, which was so tender that it not only fell off the bone but also peeled off the skin!

Then, they would control the ratio of fat to lean meat in the shredded pork leg, while sprinkling it with various sauces and spices.

After thoroughly mixing the pork with the sauce, the most crucial step is to pour the well-mixed pork back into the crispy pork leg skin!

In this way, when a whole pig leg is placed horizontally on a plate, you might even think it's just an ordinary pig leg.

But when you cut it open, you'll find a piece of pork skin that's crispy, along with evenly marbled shredded meat and a flavorful sauce!

Therefore, with each bite of American Southern shredded pork leg, one can simultaneously enjoy the crispy pork skin and the perfectly balanced fat and lean meat.

Just thinking about that taste makes Gavin's index finger twitch.

Normally, Gavin would definitely sit down and have a good chat with Eugene about the farewell feast before his departure.

But now—

Having just returned from the intensive care unit, he had no appetite to discuss food.

He briefly pursed his lips, seemingly savoring the taste of the hand-shredded pork leg, before silently returning to his seat.

Noticing Gavin's condition, Eugene immediately realized what was wrong with him, then pulled Martin over to Gavin and asked in a low voice.

"What's wrong, boss? Your expression is awful! It's like you've seen that Alvida who used to enrage you come back and shit on our heads again!"

"Ugh... Fuck..."

Upon hearing Eugene's description, Gavin, whose expression turned slightly somber, snorted irritably and gave Eugene the middle finger.

"You bastard, don't start talking to me about poop and pee again just when I'm starting to feel a little hungry. I don't want to know that stuff!"

After spitting out a curse, Gavin finally beckoned to Thomas, asking him to prepare a suitable meal for him.

While Thomas was away getting food for Gavin, Eugene let go of Martin, brought out today's black truffle beef pizza, and sat down on the sofa next to Gavin.

As he took a bite of pizza, Eugene narrowed his eyes knowingly.

"What else can we talk about besides poop and pee? Are we supposed to talk about those unlucky guys in the hospital?"

"Damn it, I've been to the hospital more than once, just like you. One of my comrades is lying there too, I mean, a comrade from our company."

"So I understand how you feel right now, boss. In fact, I understood this feeling five or six years ago!"

"I know you're not feeling well. After all, each of them seems to be a far greater burden than Sariel was back then. At least Sariel, that fat guy, could try to improve himself by losing weight, but those seriously wounded who also need care can never shake off their status as a burden!"

"Hey, you bastard, watch your mouth! I don't think they're a burden!"

Before Gavin could speak, Martin, who sat down right behind Eugene, slapped Eugene on the back of the head.

Martin and Eugene have known each other for too long; he won't tolerate Eugene's bad habits.

After being slapped hard by Martin, Eugene bared his teeth at Martin in annoyance.

However, it was just a bare tooth; a moment later, Eugene looked back at Gavin, completely unconcerned, and said something to Gavin's equally displeased face.

"That's not what I fucking meant, you guys should understand, right? I just have a foul mouth, damn it, my heart isn't foul!"

"They're my comrades. I yelled at them because I was really upset about what they were going through, not because I actually disliked them. That's just how I deal with them. Martin, that bastard, doesn't know anything!"

"I just want to tell you, boss, you don't need to go to the hospital and come back with a sour face, because your sour face won't help them at all!"

"On the contrary, my stupid words might actually anger those listless bastards so much that they'd get out of bed and beat me up!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Eugene spread his hands with a wicked grin.

Gavin waved his hand dismissively and said coldly.

"Alright, stop explaining. I know what you mean."

"However, no matter how much I prepared myself mentally, when I saw their incomplete state again with my own eyes, I still felt an overwhelming sadness."

"After all, they are heroes who fought for me, and even more so for the League. They deserve my care!"

"And I know I can't help them much. I also know that I absolutely cannot impulsively stop the alliance from moving forward just because they are around."

"Whether we move forward or upward, we will all pay a price, but this time it will all fall on them."

"I sincerely hope they recover as soon as possible and regain their confidence in life."

"But if they can't do that in the short term, then—I think the league must introduce more regulations to ensure they have no worries about the future!"

At this point, Gavin leaned heavily back on the sofa and rubbed his face.

There were dozens of wounded in the intensive care unit. Even the least injured among them had at least half of their hand cut off.

The one who was most seriously injured has not yet woken up from his coma.

Thomas, who was pushing a food cart towards Gavin in the distance, overheard Gavin's words.

So he stopped the food cart and began to get lunch for Gavin, speaking softly to him.

"Sir, I personally think that for now, we only need to ensure their basic needs are met. In the short term, we may not need to give them any special treatment."

"In my view, when we provide them with special treatment, we have also completely labeled them as special beings!"

"While their injuries do make them special, that's precisely why they shouldn't enjoy being treated as a special group!"

"As for their psychological problems, if I may be so bold, sir, they will ultimately have to get through those on their own."

"We have never let them go hungry, and their food standards are much higher than those of the ordinary members. This is the limit of what we can do."

"We can keep them from starving, but we are not legendary psychologists. We can keep their lives and bodies, but we cannot control their minds."

"Let everything continue naturally!"

After saying that, Thomas had already prepared lunch for Gavin.

Gavin nodded slightly as he began to eat, and smiled wryly.

"You're right, Thomas. They did discuss this topic just now. As for them, while we must ensure their basic material needs are met, it's really not appropriate for us to introduce any more regulations that would draw more attention to their special circumstances and create trouble for them."

"But remember my words, no matter what!"

"I must ensure that no one in the League will utter a single insulting word or act against my heroes!"

"This isn't just a requirement I have for every guy in the league; it's a promise I've made to each and every one of you!"

"We must remember the names and deeds of all those who sacrificed themselves for the Alliance."

"Those who bear the pain and suffering for the League are destined to earn everyone's respect, especially mine!"

At this point, Gavin, holding his plate with his right hand, stared intently at Thomas.

After a brief silence, Thomas nodded emphatically to Gavin.

Seeing Thomas's solemn promise, Gavin nodded in satisfaction, and then casually said something to the people in front of him while eating.

"Alright, I've said everything I needed to say. Let's eat our lunch and then get back to our own business."

"Eugene, you should drink less of that damn liquor. We're leaving tomorrow, don't forget our business!"

"OK, no problem, boss. I'll only drink for the morning. In the afternoon, I plan to spend the rest of the day with Sariel, that real man who's gradually losing weight, to deal with our cows and add some milk to our breakfast tomorrow!"

Eugene nonchalantly responded to Gavin, then silently began to eat.

Although he didn't say it, as an absolute tough soldier, even if Eugene might try to shut himself up with food, Gavin could tell that his words had a significant impact on him.

American soldiers have never lacked the courage to fight bravely, but what they have always feared most is leaving military life.

For most American soldiers, military life is just a job, but that job is actually their absolute comfort zone.

However, most soldiers who retire due to injury or normally often end up in a mess when they return home!

Especially those who retire due to injury —

In short, it is essential to ensure a way out for soldiers, especially to guarantee the dignity and respect that American veterans and wounded soldiers need most.

This would naturally move Eugene, who had already experienced a similar life, deeply.

Looking at Eugene, who was buried in his rice and wouldn't look up at all.

Gavin couldn't help but recall the time when he first met Eugene.

At that time, Eugene was unemployed after retiring, to the point that William cursed him as a good-for-nothing who only knew how to cause trouble for Eugene's sister.

Just as Gavin was thinking this, in the distance, Jon Fletcher took off his apron and cautiously glanced into the hall from the second floor.

After confirming that Gavin was sitting on the main sofa, Jon hurried down the stairs and strode up behind Gavin.

His appearance broke the silence among Gavin and the others.

Seemingly not wanting others to see his occasional weakness, Eugene, as soon as Jon appeared, quickly raised his head and spoke in a slightly hoarse voice, as if grasping at a lifeline.

"Ah, look who's here! Isn't this our head chef? What are you doing here chatting with us?"

"I haven't seen you in the hall for a while. Why weren't you in your kingdom today directing the cooks to prepare a good meal?"

"Did you just find out that one of your cooks is washing vegetables with foot bath water? Bullshit!"

After saying that, Eugene ignored what Jon thought and continued to work hard on his meal.

And Jon.

He glanced at Eugene, then turned to Gavin and whispered.

"Boss, is there something I can talk to you about privately?"