His portly belly strained against his soiled, floral-patterned shirt, while his face was covered in a tangle of white whiskers like tangled electrical wires. His sparse hair, barely enough to count on one hand, failed to conceal his shiny scalp. Coupled with his textbook-perfect beer gut, this short, stout old man's first impression wasn't exactly charming.,Izanabe watched as the young man named Haze effortlessly placed ten boxes of sparkling water in front of the container. It was as if he were carrying ten boxes of foam padding. When the stacked boxes were set down, there wasn't even a tremor. One couldn't help but wonder if the boxes had been glued together.,Looking at the three deformed corpses, blood slowly pooled beneath them. There were two streaks on the ground, still emitting a wisp of blue smoke. These were the marks left by Heather's shoes as they scraped against the ground at high speed.。