This world willing to accept Hill has very strict demands, yet its manner is gentle.
Once all the chaos had settled, Hill, who returned to the top of the tower, found his Magic Tower perched atop a very high cliff, surrounded by a faint mist at the tower's base, yet it didn't obstruct his view.
The coastal city about seven kilometers away from the cliff was clearly visible to Hill, whose vision had always been excellent, as if it was right at the bottom of his eyes.
This is a bustling city, teeming with traffic and people.
The attire also gives a surprisingly familiar feeling, as if suddenly transported to the Victorian era... It seemed that those old TV dramas Hill had repeatedly watched flooded into his mind in an instant, especially some men dressed very Sherlock Holmes-like... top hats, evening suits, holding pipes or walking sticks.
"Hill?" a delicate voice interrupted Hill's trance, "What are you thinking about? Is it safe now?
I... can come out, right?"
