All normal people are taken over by the bodies of young and flawed heirs of the destroyed clan. And I managed to inhabit the body of an old man who had not been dry for the last ten years. At least they didn’t deprive us of strength, and thanks for that. Now I am the head of the local Inquisition. And in a past life he was a dark lord. All that remains is to understand why there is a gun barrel in front of your nose? Why the hell does everyone want to kill me?