The Farming Saint in the Starry Wasteland (Elizabeth Schofield) novel Chapter 228

The rule in the labor camp was simple: for daily work, you only got one basic liquid supplement.

But each month, based on your performance and obedience, you could get an extra low–dose sedative.

She remembered that Hank had earned it a few times because he did well.

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Tiffany shook her head, looking frustrated. “I asked. He already used it. But this backlash hit too hard. The damage is probably beyond what a sedative can suppress.”

Elizabeth’s eyes sharpened, and she walked faster.

At the camp’s guarded open ground, the air felt heavy and suffocating.

The former Black Rats and Scarface’s gang members were now all in the matching rough work clothes, standing in a loose circle. In the middle was Hank, in terrible shape.

He was tightly tied up with thick fiber ropes, lying on the ground.

His body jerked and twitched like a fish out of water.

Veins bulged on his forehead. His eyes were bloodshot, almost popping out. He was making these horrific, non–human growls from his throat, and his lip was bitten raw, dripping dark red blood.

Melton, along with two other strong prisoners with tense faces, held him down with all their strength.

They were stopping him from smashing his head into the ground because of the pain.

The people watching had mixed expressions.

Some who were close to Hank looked worried and pained.

Most others just looked numb or completely hopeless, like they were watching their own future.

Everyone knew that people sent to Garbage Planet usually couldn’t escape mental power collapse.

It was only a matter of time.

What was happening to Hank today could be their tomorrow.

Life in the labor camp was hard, but at least it was steady. There was food, and sometimes a sedative to keep you going. It was better than the old days of fighting and not knowing if you’d survive.

But now, seeing Hank collapse reminded them that people like them didn’t get to have a stable life!

In a brief pause between his spasms, Hank’s bloodshot eyes caught sight of Elizabeth walking over.

He seemed to use the last bit of his sanity, struggling as he shouted in a broken voice, “K–kill me, boss… Please… Just end it… It hurts… It hurts so bad!”

The pain and despair in his voice made several people look away, unable to keep watching.

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11:45 am Pppp.

Chapter 228 Kill You?

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Elizabeth walked up and looked down at Hank as he thrashed. She didn’t look sympathetic or disgusted; she just had this cold, calm look on her face.

When she spoke, her voice was chill and a bit heartless. “Kill you? Then who’s going to work for me? All the time I invested in you would be a total waste.”

The words sounded harsh. Some of the prisoners froze, and the way they looked at Elizabeth carried a bit of quiet sadness.

Elizabeth ignored them.

She turned to Melton. “Hold his head. Don’t let him bite his tongue.”

Then, under everyone’s shocked gaze, she flipped her wrist and took out a steamed potato.

It was big and full, the skin slightly cracked, showing the soft, golden inside. A simple but warm smell drifted out, completely out of place in this scene of pain and despair.

“Feed this to him,” Elizabeth said, handing the potato to Melton. Her tone left no room for argument.

But she underestimated how strong the pull of spiritual energy was for someone in a mental power collapse.

Before it even reached his mouth, Hank struggled to lift his head and bit into it.

A potato the size of a fist was gone in just a few bites.

Everyone held their breath, watching. No one understood what Elizabeth was doing.

They knew the potato came from the farm, but it was still just a potato…

No one had ever heard of a potato calming a mental power backlash!

It sounded even less believable than using a sedative.

Was this just a desperate guess?

Time dragged on in silence and confusion.

Just when some people thought this was useless, Hank’s movements seemed… a little weaker.

Then, the animal–like growls in his throat slowly turned into groans that sounded more human.

The bloodshot frenzy in his eyes slowly began to fade, like a receding tide. They were still clouded with pain, but at least you could see the light of reason returning to his eyes.

He stopped trying to slam his head into the ground. His spasms turned into small, occasional tremors.

The potato… actually worked?

The yard fell completely silent.

Everyone stared, wide–eyed, at the unbelievable scene.

That plain, ordinary potato worked better than a precious sedative?

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11:45 am pppp.

Chapter 228 Kill You?

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How was that even possible?

Elizabeth, however, didn’t look surprised at all.

She calmly watched as Hank’s condition stabilized, shifting from near–death frenzy into a deep, unconscious sleep. His brows were still furrowed, showing the pain wasn’t fully gone.

“Carry him to the work shed. Let him rest for a day,” Elizabeth told Melton. “Once his mental power is stable, he can get back to work.”

It sounded like she was sure Hank would be back to normal by tomorrow.