The Strong One Returns

There was not a single soul in Pomelo, which was all ruins. It had already become a new territory for wild beasts. The formerly bustling city was now overgrown with weeds, along with the occasional small animal. There hadn't been enough time for tall trees to grow, but it was heaven for rapidly growing things like weeds. They were tall enough to reach a grown person's knees.

A man with tattered clothes and pieces of grass in his wild hair was walking along the streets of Pomelo. He had a square face with inky, black, thick eyebrows and swarthy skin, though his eyes were as bright as stars. But his eyes were a little dazed as he looked around, muttering to himself, "How could this be? How could this be?"