"Leaving my hometown, I carry my pack... Often dreaming of my beloved girl... Being far away, my heart is at home...",Three men in leather jackets, reeking of alcohol, burst into the general store. The one in the front, with green hair and a mohawk, surveyed the shop, spitting out his toothpick.,On both moral and practical grounds, he wouldn't stand idly by while Old Jack and this groundskeeper named Haze died before his eyes.。