The Villain's RE:Life

Chapter 188: The Train to London (1)

’Based on what I’m feeling from the wind, the user should be around mid to High Alpha-Rank; however, it’s also a sign that they didn’t evolve any higher than 2C, as if they did, they wouldn’t be so high up on the ranking level.’ The minutes passed by agonizingly as I continued coloring one picture after another in a sloppy manner.

’Tsk, if it weren’t for this train station being so densely populated and the CCTV covering nearly everywhere in the place, I would hunt that asshat down and eviscerate him for making me feel like a cornered rat.’

’However, the last thing I need is my cover and that of Vincent’s being blown so early on.’

"ALL ABOARD, 11:55 Service to London, ALL ABOARD!" As I was lost in thought, a booming voice came over the intercom system announcing that the boarding for our train was beginning, which spurred Vincent into motion.

"Come along, young master, we mustn’t be late." He stated in a professional tone while standing with one arm behind his back and his other extended out to carry my backpack.

"Ok," I only uttered a single word as I quickly cleaned up my crayons and coloring book before stuffing them in my backpack and handing them over to Vincent.

From the point of view of an outsider, nothing would be out of place; I was merely a young child with his butler, which was exactly how I wanted to be perceived.

Sure, it was probably a little strange seeing a butler accompanying a young child no more than five years old in this day and age, but no one would bat an eye as they didn’t want to invade the privacy of others.

It wasn’t until we had gotten to our first-class seats on the train and had pulled out of the station that I should have been able to relax; unfortunately, that wasn’t the case because even once we were firmly situated in our seats, I could still feel the slight chilly wind brushing against my skin, along with an itch at the back of my neck, an itch that I had long since become familiar with as it was my sixth sense telling me I was being watched.

’There’s no way….no, it’s not me specifically being targeted, it’s the whole train…but why, it doesn’t make sense to me. Why would they choose this specific trip to London when there are dozens of trains leaving every hour to make the trek.’

Hopping onto my knees in my seat and glancing out the window, my eyes flicked around rapidly as I used the reflection in the glass to scan the area behind me and the other seats.

’Full Stop Taylor, I need to create a profile of the Returner I am dealing with. Let’s start from the beginning; someone is