“Holding a steamed bun in my hands… There's not a drop of oil in the vegetables…”,Izanabe watched as the young man named Haze effortlessly placed ten boxes of sparkling water in front of the container. It was as if he were carrying ten boxes of foam padding. When the stacked boxes were set down, there wasn't even a tremor. One couldn't help but wonder if the boxes had been glued together.,On both moral and practical grounds, he wouldn't stand idly by while Old Jack and this groundskeeper named Haze died before his eyes.。