As the line dwindled, only two elderly men and a middle-aged man remained.
The two elderly men were obliging. They whipped off their shoes and showed the soles of their feet in no time. There was nothing there.
Only the middle-aged man remained, dawdling at the end of the line.
Hedgehog Spirit called out loudly.
"Hey, you there! Your turn! What are you doing?"
The middle-aged man raised his head, forced an awkward smile, and slowly shuffled two steps forward, looking terribly reluctant.
He wore thick, lace-up winter boots. His fingers were as clumsy as clubs as he undid the laces; half a minute passed, and he still hadn't managed to untie a single one.
Hedgehog Spirit grew impatient and urged him on.
"Hurry up, will you? There's nobody behind you. You're the last one. Once you're done, we're finished, so don't keep us from getting off work! It's just taking off your shoes. Do you have to act like you're heading to your execution?"
The middle-aged man finally removed both boots.
He sat on a nearby rock with his legs pressed tightly together and his feet tucked inward, refusing to stretch them out for inspection.
Hedgehog Spirit scratched his head in frustration.
"Stick your foot out! I'll just take one look! Then you can go home!"
Hearing that, the middle-aged man gritted his teeth. As though he'd finally made up his mind—or simply had no choice—he extended one foot.
Hedgehog Spirit leaned in for a look and let out a startled exclamation.
From the instep to the gaps between the toes, from the arch to the heel, that foot was covered in a thick, dense layer of dark brown hair, as though he were wearing a furry sock.
Never mind the Five-Star Mark; the hair hid even the color