[ Fair, fair. What would be a good job for a fourteen-year-old from modern Japan, Robby wonders? Actually a hard question, when even Robby doesn't know what he wants to do.

Just as no one exploits him, that's all Robby cares about. There's just something worrisome about Mob and that possibly.

But Mob's answer to his own question is a good one, and he tilts his head when he thinks (wow--having his hair touch his cheek is weird. Feels like forever. ]

I feel good. I felt great at the time, [ if he really thinks about it. ] I mean, if I could react like that all the time in a fight? I don't think I'd be afraid of anything.

[ And Robby doesn't even know the half of the powers Mob gave him. Amazing. Magical folk get all the fun. ]