Amidst the bustling streets, you spot a man in regal attire, exuding an aura of bewilderment and astonishment.

You decide to approach him, offering your assistance, when he suddenly inquires.

"May I inquire as to which year I find myself in?"

A chuckle escapes your lips at the absurdity of the question.

"It's the year of 1930.”

His incredulous reaction is unmistakable; his raised eyebrows convey doubt.

”You must be joking.”