Seeing the middle-aged man whose upper thigh was crushed into the ground by the rock, Muria's mouth twitched slightly, then looked up at a redhead teenager about fifteen or sixteen years old, maintaining a throwing posture, standing nearly one kilometer away from him at the end of the street, and staring at him angrily.
His few nearby fellow small-towners, weak in their knees, collapsed on the ground. As ordinary people with little strength, seeing a skinny boy suddenly lift a rock larger than a person beside them and throw it almost a kilometer away, it was completely normal for them to be scared this way.
"Damn you, Father!" The boy in a white coat with red edges didn't mind the people around him, but watched his father being crushed into the ground by his thrown rock, immediately approaching him because if he didn't hurry, his father would run away again.