Glen turned in shock to see the three black boars' bellies burst open, spraying filthy blood everywhere—some of it splattering Glen and the beast.
The giant's loud, grating laugh followed right after. It pointed at Glen and the beast, bellowing, "Hahaha… stupid humans! Even ruined, you're not getting them! Hahaha…"
The stench and sticky feeling made Glen extremely uncomfortable. He stood frozen in that shocked pose for over ten seconds, not moving until the giant finished laughing.
He gently wiped the blood from his face and hair, then turned back with an utterly emotionless stare fixed on Abu.
The beast also bared its fangs at the giant, clearly furious.
"What're you looking at me like that for? I did it! So what? Abu's strong! You're no match for me!"
Abu stood up, looming over Glen, in an unusually cheerful mood.
"What can I do? I can take your life!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, the ground where Glen stood exploded in mud. His body sprouted sparse black fur, face twisted in a savage snarl, fangs and claws extending—a light wolf transformation, maximizing combat power without ruining his clothes.
Abu knew the human would strike, but the speed of this burst caught him completely off guard. Before he could react, searing pain pierced his eyes, his vision flooding red.
Blind, he panicked, one hand clutching his eyes, the other swinging wildly—but it did no good. Pain tore through his arms, chest, stomach, and back.
"No! Stop! Damn, annoying human! It hurts, Abu!"
Glen didn't halt for the screams. He was searching for the giant's weakest skin spots. After testing, he confirmed the belly was the softest—though still tougher than rock.
As the Am claw strikes concentrated there, Abu felt an unprecedented wave of terror. He was about to be gutted alive!
"Please stop! Abu was wrong! Noooo!"
In the end, the giant fell back into the very pit that had trapped him, filled with endless dread.
Glen gave the selfish, arrogant oaf one last glance, turned, shook the still-warm blood from his hands, and frowned. "Why does nothing ever go smoothly?"
He checked the dead boars again—the stench was overpowering. Definitely inedible. That giant must've used some kind of curse.
Glancing at the approaching beast, he sighed. "Let's call it a day. Head back."
…
As Glen neared his house, he spotted a familiar figure—Black Crow, standing outside his front yard, holding a bulging cloth bag, like he'd been there a while.
A few steps closer, Black Crow noticed Glen and turned. His face was still unreadable.
"Looking for me, Mr. Black Crow?" Glen asked.
"Yes. I was just passing by and thought I should say hello."
"Ah? Oh…" Glen felt a bit thrown, then teased, "You're a fun one. Did you shop in Doud? Weren't you there yesterday?"
Black Crow glanced at the bag. "My wife's been eating more lately. Yesterday's haul wasn't enough—need more supplies."
"You're married? Well, give her my regards. Sorry, I can't visit just yet." Glen was surprised.
"I will. I told her about you yesterday. She said I should spend more time with you." Black Crow hesitated, then blurted, "Did you run into danger?"
"Huh?" Glen blinked, then gave a wry smile. "Thanks for worrying, but no danger—just a little accident."
Glen's blood-covered appearance did scream danger, so he couldn't blame the question. Still, he didn't feel like explaining; he just wanted a shower and fresh clothes… which, well, he didn't have.
"If you ever are in danger, you can find me. If I can help, I won't say no." With that, Black Crow turned to leave.
Glen almost called out to ask for clothes, but seeing Black Crow's style of dress, he dropped the idea.
"See you." He gave a polite farewell.
Just as he was about to go inside, still stressing over clothes, his peripheral vision caught a gaze from the neighbor's upstairs window. His eyes lit up. "Clothes problem solved."
…
By the time Laila and Bonnie got back to Doud, night had fallen. All the way, they feared running into Bob and his thugs again—that kind of despair wasn't something they wanted to feel twice.
"Laila, stay far away from that monster. He's not a real father. We should report him!" Bonnie, recovering from the fright, grabbed Laila's hand and urged.
Laila's expression faltered. She wanted to refuse—he was her blood, after all. Turning him in, would she still be a good daughter? But she decided to report him.
"Okay, let's go do that."
"Laila, if they aren't caught, will they come after us?" Bonnie asked nervously.
"Well…" Laila hesitated. It was possible.
"If they find us again, they'll take us. I'm so scared…" Bonnie's voice cracked, and she started to cry.
"Don't worry, Bonnie. Remember, Sir Berlin's in town. As long as we stay inside, they won't dare do anything crazy. Besides, school's tomorrow—we'll stay in the dorm; it'll be safer." Laila hugged her trembling friend, even though she was frightened herself.
…
"What do you want now? There's hardly any food left in my kitchen. Leave some for me, will you?"
The old neighbor glared at Glen, who was strolling into his house like he owned the place, trying to sound tough but failing.
Glen had none of the usual outsider's restraint, stroking his chin as he inspected the neighbor's furnishings like he was home.
"No need to be on guard. We're practically acquaintances. I'm just here to borrow a piece of clothing."
"Clothing?" The old man blinked.
"Look at me. I've got nothing to change into. As my good neighbor, you won't say no, right?" Glen grinned.
He felt no guilt—this guy had bullied Dylan plenty, a straight-up bully. Glen figured he could afford to be a little pushy.
Hearing the request, the old man didn't get mad. He actually felt relieved—it was a request he could meet. If Glen had asked for something harsher, he wouldn't have been able to refuse.
"Wait here." With that, the old man went up the wooden stairs to the second floor.
Glen lounged below, his sharp hearing catching the old man's hushed voice upstairs: "Quiet, baby. That guy downstairs is dangerous. Wait till he's gone before I fix you something to eat."
Am I gonna bully a puppy? The old man's overly tender tone made Glen want to laugh.