A man slowly walked to the edge of the field. He was tall and thin, about one meter eighty, and entirely cloaked in a long robe. He came alone, unlike others who arrived on speedboats, luxury yachts, or even piloted ships to Fog Island. This elderly figure with yellow-black skin stood upon a log, drifting over slowly.
Occasionally, he would sit down, and the log would drift forward by itself, although very slowly, unaffected by the wind.
Fortunately, this place was remote, and no one witnessed this scene, or they would certainly be astonished. This elder hailed from the equally ancient nation—India—a country occupying the world's second-largest population, with high birth and death rates.
