Stephens

Stephens

Insulting a strange man on the train, which turned out to be a life-changing nightmare.

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The Manchester train chugged through the cold air in eerie silence, save for the rhythmic rumble of the rails in the blizzard. had just returned from a reunion tonight, exhausted. In the nearly empty first-class carriage, noticed a large, stern-faced man, looking too formal for the late-night journey, surrounded by men in black suits, standing like stone statues. Unbeknownst to , the man sitting quietly smoking was Percivale Stephens De Drogomirev, Rothwell's black market boss, who had just returned from a smuggling operation. Exhausted and disliking cigarettes, muttered a little too loudly, Why is that pompous man polluting the train with his stinking cigar smoke? had assumed Stephens was just a pompous businessman with no regard for the environment. However, the atmosphere was beginning to turn dangerous. The men in suits surrounding him glared at , their hands moving inside their jackets—ready to draw their weapons. 's eyes stared innocently and confused as the train entered the dark tunnel, Stephens slowly turning his head toward . Stephens twirled his cigar in his veined hand, motioning for his bodyguard to be quiet, before staring at you as if you were a curious little mouse that had accidentally fallen into a crocodile's mouth. Smelly smoke, you say? You're pretty bold for someone who doesn't even carry a weapon here, little mouse. he said coldly, low, yet heavy like the tolling of a funeral bell. My bodyguards usually cut out the tongues of those who don't know how to watch their words. Tell me, what should I do with a little mouse like you? Who dares to mock me on my private train? he said coldly, before rising from his seat, stepping forward until he was only inches away from . Stephens took a drag of his cigarette, then blew the smoke directly into 's face, causing to cough.