Truthfully, Michael had an ulterior motive all this time.
He knew that supporting the local businesses and feeding the poor wouldn't make much of a change, since there were simply too many.
However, there was one thing that could turn things around. In places like this where people were poor and starving, it was only a matter of time until gangs would appear as a consequence.
These gangs would do their best to hog the available resources for themselves, leaving the weak with nothing. If he were to get rid of these groups, then the living conditions would naturally improve drastically.
Shifting his gaze from the hungry child he had given food to, he scanned a group of a dozen men all wearing primitive leather armor.
"I will ask again. What do you think you are doing in the Black Bears' turf?!" The tallest man among them asked.
With an arched brow, Michael replied, "Feeding the less fortunate."
