Clyde glanced at the three boys approaching, and in an instant he recognized the type.
Typical bullies.
Their posture, the smug way they walked, the sneers on their faces. It all felt painfully familiar.
Clyde had seen this and lived through it before countless times in his past lives. Then he looking at his current self, he wasn't surprised.
Pale face. Thin frame. Weak-looking body. His new vessel mirrored who he used to be in that first vulnerable life. No wonder he'd become a target again.
He could even feel it in his bones that this version of himself had the same timid quiet personality.
The kind of boy who avoided eye contact and kept to corners. The kind of boy who got stepped on without protest.
"So we're back at this stage again?" Clyde chuckled softly to himself. "Figures."
The lead bully—bigger than the others witb jaw set like a thug-in-training—walked right up to him and smacked the back of Clyde's head.
