I'm still thinking about the disturbing man when the Mother pokes my arm, a concerned expression on her face. "Jason? Is everything all right?"

Blinking, I give her my widest smile. "Yes, of course. May I be excused?"

Mom and the Man laugh cheerily. "Awww, what a little gentleman! I wish Dillon was like that."

From his lair upstairs, we all hear Dillon shout, "I heard that!"

Ignoring him entirely, the Mother tousles my hair. "You most certainly may. Do you want to play with Charlie for a bit?"

I nod, keeping the smile on my face as I get off my chair, taking my plate and glass to the sink nearby. I'm not entirely sure what kind of technology they're required to use in order to get rid of chunks, but it could honestly be anything.

Heading towards the playroom visible from here, I peek over my shoulder to make sure that the Mother and the other adults aren't watching and hook a quick left turn. Moving past the framed pictures of Charlie's family, I quietly sneak up the stairs, moving towards Dillon's room.

Placing my palm on the door handle, I frown irritably to myself. It's locked. Not much of an issue - it's handled easily enough. Pushing a decent amount of mana into its inner workings, I seize its insides and rotate sharply, the lock disengaging as I do. Pulling the door open, I enter Dillon's room, eyes widening as I do.

It's filthy. I've had rablins that took better care of their dens than this teenager. How could he possibly be happy living in here, sleeping in here, eating in here? Rancid-smelling laundry is scattered around the floor, the yellow light source flickering unsteadily to illuminate the small dead bugs, legs curled up, around the corners of the room.

One lip curling in spite of myself, I continue forward, rounding the tall black curtain to find Dillon sprawled in a chair, a small tub of ice-cold dairy in his hands. Shoveling it into his mouth and crying blatantly, he sniffs aloud, "I'm a good guy, all right? They just don't underst-" He sees me and jerks backward, falling over and sending the tub flying. I probably could have caught it with magic, but it wouldn't have made any more of a mess than he already has.

Limbs akimbo and tangled in the black curtain, he shouts, "You-" Struggling briefly, he manages to stand up, his greasy hair looking more disheveled than it had been a moment ago. "What are you doing in my - actually, never mind that. How did you get in my room?"

I shrug. "I used magic. That theory at least is correct."

He snorts loudly. "All my theories are co-" He stops dead, the dim light in his eyes wavering as he processes the information, and then blinks. "Wait, what?"

I raise one hand, producing a candy stick out of mana. "I used magic. I'm hardly a wizard, but I know several techniques."

Dillon stares at the candy stick levitating over my hand with his mouth frozen in shock. He blinks hard, rubbing his eyes, and then solidly pinches his arm, screaming briefly from the pain. Surprisingly, nobody comes up to check on him. Maybe he does that often. Shaking his head one last time, he finally says, "What the heck?"

I allow the candy stick to fall in my hand and take a bite of it happily. "I have magic."

He grabs my wrist, staring into my eyes seriously, and possibly a bit maniacally. "We - we have to document this! Do that on - hang on, I have a camera around here somewhere!"

Lunging into a pile of laundry, he starts rummaging through it, chuckling to himself, "And they said I was wrong! They said I was crazy! Well now who's crazy!?"

Giving a very unhinged laugh, he wheels on me, wielding a small black cylindrical device with a rectangle sticking out of the side. Aiming it at me, he says with a manic grin, "All right, do your thing!"

Waving a hand, I remove a few probably essential components from the camera, and he frowns at it. "What? No, not now!"

Setting it down, he turns away from me. "Hang on just a tic, I'll get it. Uhhh, where did I put the..."

I place a hand on his wrist and he jumps, turning to face me. "What? What is it?"

"Dillon," I say softly, "if you attempt to docu - do - doc-u-ment about my magic, or tell anyone, or reveal in any way that I can do magic, I will kill you."

He freezes abruptly, his eyes widening, and I continue in a level tone. "Are you listening? I told you I can do magic because your theory regarding the existence of magic was correct, and for only one other reason: that I believe you might possibly be of some minor use in helping me answer some of my own questions."

His eyes glance away from me, and then back towards me, a stressed chuckle erupting from somewhere in the back of his throat. "You - you're a kid."

Lifting the remaining portion of the candy stick, I reach into its structure and pull some of its insides apart from each other, and then tilt it. The top half of it falls down, a flawless cut through its center. His eyes widen impossibly further. Maintaining a calm expression, I tell him, "I can do that to your spine. To your brain. To any part of your innards, if need be. If I got my hands on a summary of biology, I could probably make it so you still functioned, unable to speak or move in any way. That is what I'm threatening you with if you tell anyone. Understand?"

Inwardly, I exhale in relief. There had been a lot of big words in that small speech, and I hadn't been completely confident I could say all of them correctly. And the whole thing about his spine and whatnot was a total bluff - I had no idea where those pieces of the human body were located.

Albeit, if I simply dug around a bit, I could do some damage with or without that knowledge.

Swallowing hard, he carefully peels my hand away from his wrist. "Okay," he says thoughtfully, and then again with a little more confidence, "Okay."

Then he collapses, his eyes rolling back into his skull.

I sigh to the empty room. "This is why I hate humans."

Hmm. Those threats worked incredibly well. Perhaps I should try them on Richter, or even Pop? I'd need to do some more research on how different humans react to different threats.

Another day. For now, I need to wait.

And so I wait.