"Who is that? He looks familiar. Could he be one of the passengers from the bus?" The drunkard had just been saying seconds ago that the streets should be safer than the building, but before he even finished, he had been proven wrong. He suspected that there was a pair of eyes following him from a place that he could not see, observing his every move.
"Is he waving at me? With the fog, I can't see his face, so he shouldn't be able to see mine either. In such circumstances, a normal person wouldn't proactively greet others."
A person's potential was often forced. After going through the experience earlier, the drunkard had become noticeably more cautious, and he had more to think about before making any move. The shape of the man in the fog became clearer—the person seemed to be walking toward him.
"No, I need to stay away from him." The drunkard noticed the person pick up his speed. He did not dare to answer and turn to run away.
