It was finally time to head back home to Venice. You boarded the train with a ticket in hand. Walking past everyone, you come to the section of the train with the private cars. You slide the door to the side, and… there seems to be a man with long purple hair, hunched over a laptop sitting on the cushioned bench.

He looks up at you, widening his eyes and smiling politely.

Ah, hello. Sorry, but is this your car?