The instant Glen pushed open the door, a tall, slightly stooped figure came into view, calling out on the adjacent lawn while clutching something in hand.

Upon hearing the sound of the door opening, the old man swiveled his head. Spotting Glen, his shouts ceased mid - flow. It seemed as though he was on the verge of asking something, yet he held back.

All he offered was a menacing smile.

The former inhabitant of this body would likely have scurried back inside the house in terror and bolted the door shut.

However, Glen now was not one to be daunted. He responded with a faint, composed smile of his own.

The old man's expression faltered, as if pondering why this spineless fellow was showing such unexpected bravado today.

With a disdainful snort, the old man retrieved his belongings and retreated into his abode, slamming the door shut with a resounding thud.

Hasn't he found the dog's carcass? Glen withdrew his gaze from his neighbor and turned it towards the spot where the bulldog had met its end the previous night.

Sure enough, there was nothing there. A solemn look settled over his features.

He took several brisk strides to reach the location and crouched down.

Upon closer inspection, he did detect some faint traces of blood, as if the area had been either scrubbed or licked clean by something.

There truly is something lurking around here at night. I just wonder what it is. I'll have to look into it when I have the time... Glen rose to his feet once more, cast one last glance at the old man's house, and then made his way back indoors.

He made a beeline for the utility room, where he unearthed a wooden staff of unknown purpose. He swung it a few times with force and found it to be rather wieldy.

"You'll serve my purpose."

Although Glen was confident in his combat prowess, this was no occasion to be careless. After all, the other man was armed with a firearm.

The revolver of that bearded man had been left in the forest. I'll retrieve it after this heist. As long as I can get hold of some bullets, I'll be able to put it to use... With these thoughts in mind, Glen stepped out of the house.

The town remained steeped in tranquility. The distant horizons were engulfed by a thick shroud of mist, a common meteorological condition in this region.

Sunny days did occur, yet they were a rarity. Were it not for the memories as proof, outsiders would surely assume this was an abandoned town perpetually veiled in mist.

Glen stepped out of the courtyard. While keeping a vigilant eye on his surroundings, he also took a moment to contemplate his strategies in case of a confrontation.

With a graceful leap, he cleared the fence and landed on the old man's lawn. Concealing the wooden staff behind his back, he approached the front door and raised his hand to knock.

Dong, dong.

Two crisp knocks echoed through the stillness, and Glen waited patiently.

But as the moments stretched into an eternity, the wooden door before him remained stubbornly immobile.

What's going on? Shouldn't this cantankerous old fellow come charging out in a fit of rage to pummel me? A flicker of doubt crossed Glen's eyes, yet he persisted in knocking.

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"Old man, I need to talk to you. Open up! I mean you no harm! I give you my word!" Glen called out as he rapped on the door, silently adding... It's just a heist, after all.

He stood there, knocking for what felt like an age, yet there was not a single sound from within.

Glen shifted from knocking to pounding. The dull thuds of his fists against the door reverberated louder, yet still, there was no response.

He couldn't have simply vanished into thin air, could he? Glen ceased his pounding, paused to think for a moment, and then called out,

"Don't you want to know where your precious pet has disappeared to?"

The words had barely left his lips when Glen distinctly heard a clattering and crashing sound emanating from inside the house.

Surely he'll come out now? Glen readied himself, his eyes fixed intently on the wooden door.

But his hopes were dashed.

Still, there was no movement. Glen's eye twitched involuntarily, and a vein throbbed visibly on his forehead.

"Since that's the case, don't blame me for breaking in!" Glen took a few steps back and then launched a fierce kick!

Bang!

The not - overly - sturdy wooden door gave way under the force. Instead of charging straight in, Glen nimbly dodged to the left. As expected, a gunshot rang out.

Pop!

The old man inside, who was in the act of aiming his gun, seemed caught off - guard that his target had managed to evade. He hesitated briefly but immediately readied himself to reload for a second shot.

However, Glen had already rushed into the house at an astonishing speed. He raised the wooden staff and brought it down with great force towards the old man's head!

Caught off - guard, the old man could only raise his gun to block.

A powerful jolt coursed through his arm, sending a shock through the old man.

Before he could make a further move, he felt a severe blow to his stomach, almost causing him to vomit up his last meal.

He flailed the shotgun around wildly, hoping to hit his opponent, but it was of no avail against the experienced Glen.

In his previous life, Glen had received professional training and knew precisely how to deal with armed adversaries.

Taking advantage of the old man's weakened state, Glen snatched the shotgun from his hands and kicked him away.

"Old chap, you'd better behave yourself, or else..."

Glen stroked the shotgun in his hand, his gaze fixed on the tall old man who was slowly rising to his feet, issuing a threat.

The old man was approximately 1.9 meters tall, with thick arms. He clearly looked like a formidable figure, yet his disheveled state at the moment made it easy to let one's guard down.

"Lad, I don't know what's gotten into you, but don't think you're all that great. I'm certain our neighbors won't appreciate overly boisterous residents."

The old man spat out a mouthful of bloody spittle and croaked in a hoarse voice.

He must have noticed my abnormality, which is why he abandoned his usual overbearing demeanor and hid in the house... Glen didn't respond to the old man's words but instead said,

"Where do you keep your food? Tell me, and I'll be magnanimous enough to spare your life."

This sudden shift in topic left the old man stunned. "What... What are you talking about?"

"What do I mean? I'm here to rob you! Can't you tell? I'm starving right now. Don't waste my time, or I won't hesitate to make you suffer." Glen wore an expression of blatant impatience.

The old man's face darkened, and finally, he slowly raised his finger and pointed to a room in the house. "It's... It's all in the kitchen."

Without hesitation, Glen slung the shotgun over his shoulder and strode purposefully towards the direction the old man had indicated.

Before long, the old man heard the sounds of rummaging coming from the kitchen, followed by the sounds of chewing.

He sat on the ground, unsure of how to react.

What on earth has happened to this lad? He's like a completely different person, and he's so proficient in combat! Could he be possessed by a spirit? The old man pondered.

The old man's kitchen was far more well - stocked than Glen's. The cabinets were nearly filled with food, and Glen ate to his heart's content.

After he was satiated, he finally had the time to take stock of himself.

From the confrontation with the old man just now, it was evident that his body's strength had exceeded that of an average person, even compared to his past self... If Glen hadn't held back that decisive punch, the old man probably wouldn't have been able to get back up.

All the wounds from the previous day had healed, leaving almost no visible trace. This was quite a curious phenomenon...

He felt as though something had filled some of his blood vessels, enhancing his muscles. When did this change occur? His body was very weak when he first traversed here, and he had forgotten any sensations... Glen clenched his fists, feeling the surging power within.

He ceased his contemplation and once again approached the old man. Sincerely, he said, "Thank you for the hospitality. Don't feel too hard - done - by. You used to bully me in the same way, after all. I think you're well aware that this is the cycle of cause and effect. And I'm taking this shotgun with me."

Under the old man's veiled gaze of anger, Glen walked out of the house.