Wilderness Survival, a hundred-day mission deadline.
In the blink of an eye, a month—thirty days—had passed.
Everyone was beginning to feel that they had adapted to the difficulty.
Indeed, it had only been hard at the beginning.
Once shelter, fuel, food, and drinking water had basically been taken care of,
the thing everyone spent the most time on was food.
And gathering food did not take that much time.
It was not that the food they gathered was enough to eat; rather, the maximum distance they could travel was limited. No matter how much time they spent, there was only so much they could obtain.
The rest of the time was spent playing cards and resting.
After all, they were modern people. As long as the environment was not too harsh, it was merely an environment humanity had lived in throughout history.
After paying the price of dozens of casualties, they had successfully adapted.
Their homes were crude two-story wooden houses. They were rather simple, but they could last another half year.
Food mainly came from gathering, traps, hunting... and growing mushrooms, though that cultivation was naturally very slow.
In truth, only one-tenth of the people could maintain their weight.
Everyone else was burning fat and receiving only the bare minimum of nutrition to stay alive.
After a hundred days, they would have to replenish their nutrition to survive. Otherwise, they would die from malnutrition.
Obtaining food was still quite troublesome.
After all, a group of several hundred people was too large even for an ancient hunter-gatherer tribe.
They needed to split into more than a dozen tribes, with dozens of people in each. Each tribe needed to occupy its own territory; only then could they sustain their consumption.
Only year-round farming could support a sufficiently large population.
That day,