Two days later.
The small nation of Re'ermai was a minute entity located amidst barren plains, one could cross into its borders without even realizing it if they didn't consult a map.
There were no boundary markers nor anything that could serve as a landmark; surrounding you were vast expanses of mudflats left to dry and low-lying mud houses, with no signs of human activity to be seen.
Spencer II disembarked from his vehicle and ordered the officers to take a headcount while he stood by the roadside, smoking a cigar.
He had heard that some small tribes in Heisai State and the Sheikhdom, to address the shortage of food, would dry a special red clay into cakes and then heat them in a pan, adding ants, bugs, and other small scraps to make food.
Spencer II couldn't fathom how anyone could stomach such a thing and had refused to believe that people would actually eat dirt, that is, until he was standing right there in this shithole that could barely qualify as a country.