"It's not that it tastes bad or anything…"
The man reached into MacKenzie's meal box and pulled out a boneless fried chicken wing, starting to speak.
"However, if conditions allow, one should opt for something sweet. A small intake of salt is fine, but excessive consumption over a long period isn't good for the body."
Enveloped in a long robe, the man's hazy silhouette hinted at a tall stature and slender limbs. His face was hidden by the hood and strategic shading, making it hard to discern any detail. Judging from his voice, he sounded to be in his 40s or 50s, speaking with a lightness that seemed at odds with his age.
"What? Stop complaining so much? You've got it all wrong. This is an important part of the preparations — can't fight properly on an empty stomach. It's fine to fill up on fast food, but better quality sustenance will certainly boost morale. You should understand this better than I do—"
