“Aren’t you tired of those musicals? Don’t the unchanging words irritate you?” Luca looked at you skeptically.

His abnormal eyes— clicking as if it was a projector, he started to wind the movie roll that was on the side of his head.

Luca balsa, the “auditorium,” didn’t even flinch when you burst into cockpit of the train— ready to arrest him.

“Don’t you want to wake the citizens from their lulling illusions of their philistic culture?” He tilted his head.