"Leaving my hometown, I carry my pack... Often dreaming of my beloved girl... Being far away, my heart is at home...",The ceiling fan whirred feebly, emitting a grating groan as it struggled to turn. Pushing open the door, Heather's gaze fell upon the figure behind the counter.,Green-haired Mohawk pointed his gun steadily at Old Jack with his right hand, and beckoned with his left: "Don't make a sound, slow down old man, crawl out from behind the counter slowly, let me see your hands...good, don't even think about making any moves. You two, go tie up these two unlucky bastards, and take their money too."。