I’m a coachman, driving my secondhand vehicle through one bizarre world after another. Every time I arrive in a new world, my vehicle changes form: a carriage, a truck, even a train. But my identity never changes. I’m always the coachman.
At first, I appeared in another world driving an ox cart. My task this time was to take the people in the cart to a village, then come back and pick them up. It sounded simple enough.
But in this eerie world, the village was full of danger, and howls cut through the darkness. Nothing was as simple as it sounded.
When my passengers cried for help, a good coachman’s motto was to always deliver. Driving my ox cart, I charged into that strange village without hesitation. Ferocious zombies, sinister ancient trees, and dark, demonic orbs. Could I really get them all out safely when I had only just arrived in this world? With no way back, all I could do was keep pushing forward.
At last, as we set out on the return journey, everyone looked at me with the same thought hidden in their eyes: This coachman is no ordinary man.
Come on, author, how did you manage to sleep?
Nice looking, quite interesting
Well written, keep up the good work!