Henry walked slowly, without much care for those around, as his mind was lost in thought. At that moment, one particular carriage, drawn by a slightly obese creature, crossed the road in a hurry—almost slamming against Henry, who was at the side of the road.
"Eh, whoever that might be, he should be re-educated on how to ride a carriage properly on the road," muttered Henry, wiping away the dust that had stuck to his clothes.
"Now that I think about it, the atmosphere here is actually very pleasant. From what I know, underground should get hotter—or is already hotter—than the surface, to the point where humans can't survive. But this place, despite being so deep, doesn't seem to have any uncomfortable air. Either they use magic to regulate the air, or the atmospheric structure of this world is different from the one I know of."
He continued walking, adjusting his clothes, but suddenly, one of his steps landed unevenly as he stepped on something on the ground.
"Hmm? A doll?"
