This location was not distant from the road where he had fallen unconscious. It was visible during the battle in the forest, so Glen managed to avoid losing his way.

His vision alternated between blurring and clearing. He felt his body was as limp as a mollusk, with an overwhelming urge to lie down and take a nap right on the spot.

However, judging from the memories of the original owner, this place was fraught with an otherworldly and terrifying aura. Closing his eyes now might very well mean never opening them again.

The sky had darkened completely. Only a solitary full moon hung serenely in the night sky, casting a pale glow that illuminated the path ahead. Yet, Glen found not a shred of comfort in this moonlight.

A tattered road sign stood askew by the roadside up ahead. Inscribed upon it in the common language of the human race in this world was the word: Bayek.

This was the so - called "wonderful place" chosen by the original owner, Dylan.

At that time, he considered it a stroke of good fortune to have purchased such an inexpensive house and secretly reveled in his luck for quite some time.

It was not until he accompanied the landlord to this town that he began to sense the subtle unease.

Glen, his face ashen, passed the road sign. A cool breeze wafted by, causing the road sign to emit a series of creaking, grating sounds.

May there be no monsters tonight... Glen murmured a silent prayer in his heart.

Rummaging through the memories, ever since the original owner had moved into this town, he was haunted by strange, spine - tingling sounds every night.

On several occasions, it seemed as if something were scraping against his window.

These disturbances had deprived the original owner of restful sleep for days on end.

The town of Bayek was plunged into a deathly silence at night, a silence so profound that it seemed to stifle all life.

Glen exerted every effort to move noiselessly, his steps slow and deliberate as he traversed the stone - paved road.

Tall weeds sprouted between the stone slabs, lending the place an air of desolation.

Enduring physical pain while remaining vigilant against potential perils lurking in every corner, Glen was mentally and physically drained.

Finally, his eyes fell upon his house. Nestled between two imposing mansions, it was adorned with climbing vegetation on its outer walls, looking shabby and forlorn in comparison to its neighbors.

The original owner, Dylan, had acquired a two - story cottage, complete with a garden and a dilapidated shed scarcely larger than a dog kennel.

At last, I'm home... A flicker of relief washed over Glen, and he quickened his pace.

Woof! Woof! Woof!

Suddenly, a volley of fierce barks shattered the silence, nearly sending Glen's spirit fleeing in terror.

The unexpected outburst of such a loud noise on this quiet night was enough to startle anyone.

Turning his head, Glen beheld a robust bulldog, its eyes ablaze with malice as it bared its teeth and growled menacingly at him.

This bulldog belonged to his next - door neighbor, a towering old man. The old man had a penchant for bullying the original owner. Eccentric in nature, he often helped himself to items in the original owner's house, regardless of whether the original owner was present or not, as if they were his own possessions.

This bulldog, emboldened by its master's authority, frequently chased and attacked the original owner, tearing several of his garments to pieces.

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Although the original owner had once led a dissolute life, the family upheaval had wrought a significant change in his demeanor. Moreover, the old man was clearly much stronger than him, leaving Dylan with no means of resistance.

To make matters worse, the old man often carried a shotgun, further deterring the original owner from taking any action.

Glen came to an abrupt halt, his gaze cold and unwavering as he fixed his eyes on the bulldog. His right hand instinctively reached for the dagger at his side.

The bulldog sniffed the air vigorously, its eyes suddenly alight with excitement.

It had caught the scent of blood.

After a series of low growls, it licked its lips and advanced towards Glen.

Noticing the bulldog's aggressive approach, Glen remained rooted to the spot, his right hand tightening its grip on the dagger.

He could tell that this brute was intent on feasting on human flesh tonight! He resolved not to show any mercy.

Perhaps accustomed to intimidating Dylan, the bulldog had lost all sense of fear towards humans. It continued to close the distance, and when it was merely two meters away, it launched a sudden, ferocious lunge!

Glen reacted with lightning speed. As his body shifted to the side, the dagger traced a perfect arc through the air and plunged precisely into the bulldog's neck.

The man and the dog maneuvered past each other. Glen staggered, on the verge of losing his balance and crashing to the ground, while the dog lay prostrate, its body convulsing violently.

Glen was astounded to discover that despite his flagging spirits, his strength had made a remarkable recovery.

He had fully expected to crumple to the floor, yet somehow, he managed to regain his footing.

Too weary to delve into the reasons, Glen pointedly ignored the whining cur on the ground and marched straight into the courtyard of his abode. Retrieving a key from beneath a stone, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

A faint musty odor permeated the air, yet it was not overpowering.

At this moment, Glen had no inclination to admire the interior decor. All he yearned for was respite.

He shut the door behind him and ascended the wooden staircase with unwavering determination, making a beeline for his bedroom.

The instant he pushed open the bedroom door, his body slumped onto the moderately soft bed.

At long last, his taut nerves began to unwind, and his consciousness gradually drifted into a hazy state...

He couldn't say how long he had slumbered. In that twilight realm between wakefulness and sleep, Glen was assailed by a fierce hunger pang in the pit of his stomach. It was an excruciating sensation, yet he had no desire to rouse himself from the comfort of his bed.

He was so fatigued that even this intense hunger failed to stir him from his slumber.

Just as his consciousness was on the verge of slipping back into the depths of sleep, he thought he detected the sound of some creature gnawing.

Outside the bedroom window.

The radiant moon cast its glow into the room, illuminating a gaunt and lanky figure swaying outside the window.

A slender forelimb traced a slow path along the wall, emitting a faint, piercing scraping sound. Evidently, this creature was equipped with claws...

The next day.

Glen was jolted awake by the insistent pangs of hunger.

The moment he opened his bloodshot eyes, he sprang out of bed. Having had some rest, his mind was no longer as fatigued as it had been the previous day. However, the hunger still gnawed at him relentlessly.

Glen had never experienced such an all - consuming hunger. It was almost enough to shatter his rational faculties. He felt an overwhelming compulsion to devour anything and everything in sight.

He burst out of the bedroom and made a mad dash for the kitchen. He remembered that the previous owner had left behind some leftovers and ingredients.

After a flurry of activity, Glen ransacked the kitchen from top to bottom.

Leftover dishes, raw greens, even moldy food—he wolfed them all down with abandon. Only then did the fierce hunger abate slightly.

What on earth is going on? Logically speaking, going without food for just a day and a night shouldn't leave me this ravenous. Glen sat on the chaotic kitchen floor, his brows knitted in deep concentration.

He still felt ravenous. I must find something more to eat... Glen sat for a while before hauling himself to his feet.

Suddenly, he let out a startled exclamation. He noticed that his body seemed to have grown significantly stronger. Rising to his feet, he felt a newfound sense of power coursing through his veins.

Glen ran his hand along his arm, feeling the firmness of his muscles. They were not only more solid but also noticeably bulkier than those of the previous owner.

Could this be a result of my time travel? Is the so - called "cheat ability" physical enhancement? At the moment, Glen didn't have the mental bandwidth to dwell on these questions. Finding food was his top priority, so he set aside his doubts for the time being.

He scoured the house once more, but to his dismay, he found nothing else edible. This left Glen in a state of deep distress.

Should I venture outside the town to buy food? Glen pondered this question as he sat on the sofa in the living room.

There were no trading facilities in this small town. The inhabitants of Bayek all had to travel elsewhere to conduct their business.

To obtain supplies, one had to journey to other towns, and the distance was not inconsiderable. People typically left at dawn and returned well after sunset.

He was also running low on funds... Just as Glen was grappling with this dilemma, he heard a familiar voice shouting from outside.

"Tore! Tore! Where have you gone, my precious?"

It was the old man's voice. Tore was the name of the dog.

Upon hearing this voice, Glen couldn't help but smile...