Three tons of food was not actually that much for an individual, or even for sixty-five people.
But this food was Nitolomi, the ultimate longevity food. That made all the difference.
In the past, Nitolomi had been counted by the piece. Since records began, all the Nitolomi obtained by humanity on the lakeside might not even have added up to ten pieces, including those eaten on the spot—for example, the Nitolomi eaten by the previous chairman of the Hunter Association.
That showed just how precious Nitolomi was.
But it did not all belong to the surviving sixty-five.
Wu Pifu made this very clear to them. "My promise was to everyone, including those who followed us here and those who did not. I value fairness above all else. Those who came along will naturally receive the larger share, because you risked your lives for this. But those who stayed behind cannot be left with nothing either. You may give them a small amount as you see fit. Even one piece will do."
Everyone naturally nodded.
It was just a drop in the bucket. Forget one piece per person—even three or four each would have been acceptable.
"Secondly."
Wu Pifu continued, "For those who followed us and died, regardless of how they died, if they have heirs, those heirs may receive a small portion. It should be more than what the people who stayed behind receive, though slightly less than what you receive. Of course, you need not insist on giving them Nitolomi itself. I understand the principle that possessing a treasure invites disaster. But it must be replaced with wealth of equivalent value, or comparable benefits such as connections, protection, or assistance."
At this point, Wu Pifu looked at Kula. "Kula, can I trust you?"
Kula was one of the sixty-five