The man was supposed to be in his late forties, but he looked like an old man already. His hair was ruffled and was mostly white. His eyes had dark circles around them, and his face had started developing some wrinkles already.
The white-haired man held the bottle of beer close to his heart as if it was the most precious thing in the world for him.
Carrying the bottle of the beer, he left.
Atlas stood still, gazing at the middle-aged man. There were so many emotions in his heart, mostly anger. He wanted to just go to the man and kill him, but he controlled himself.
"Death is an easy escape for him. He needs to suffer like this his entire life... All alone with no one to take care of him."
With a calm expression on his face, he turned his back on the old man as well before disappearing.
He returned back to the pond in the forest with the coffin and the shovel.