Genius Scammers Want to Live in Rack Even When Reborn Heroes)

Just halfway through the middle school building, the first and second floors were visiting the dining room connected by a blowout.

The ground floor is lined with simple enough tables and chairs for four people and a counter seat for one person at the window.

Nearly 70% of the seats were filled with students who were bickering as they mouthed snacks, either to distract a little hunger until dinner.

Although there is also a seat on the upstairs section that protruded like a loft, this one has no one.

There aren't as many seats, and the table and chair are not likely to be as high as those on the ground floor.

Looking directly at Lucru heading there too, I guess he has the private seat and the one he said earlier.

... I see, is that a dedicated area built for some rich people?

It's another bad hobby to be able to look down on the ground floor.

Whatever it is, it's not what happened to people or anything in a place like that.

We need to do something to use the ground floor.

"Dedicated seats mean you always eat there?

"Yeah, I am. Not to mention walking around looking for an empty seat, carrying your own meal. That's what the common people do."

Not only is there a designated seat, but is there such a service?

I'm going to give you a special seat today, and I'm going to go on after it with a bitter laugh at Lucru, who says he's good at it.

Then take Lucru's hand as he climbs up the stairs leading to the second floor seat.

"Become, you! What--"

"Wait a minute, there's some sign that's not good"

The hand that was about to be shaken off grabbed Lucle's wrist as it was and pointed the other hand at the table lined up.

"... what do you know about signs in such an ambiguous way?

"I didn't come here without any ability. First I'll show you my power as a fortune teller."

That's what I said. I move my hand slowly toward the table.

Table in front, sofa seat in the back, round table for two with view on the ground floor ——

Lucru's eyes have been following my hand for a long time.

On the contrary, when it comes to me, I'm not looking at you in any way. [M]

Because with subtle facial changes, the pulse of a gripped wrist, Lucru himself, who is nothing else, teaches us his exclusive seat.

When the palm was thus pointed at the window seat, the rhythm of the blink, which was kept at regular intervals, collapsed.

Until then, I followed him with my eyes intriguingly, but I'm not trying to look at that table only consciously.

I see each other at close range.

Which means I totally took my gaze off the table.

"Wait here."

That's what I say. I walk to the window seat.

The table itself just seems luxurious and has no weirdness whatsoever.

Clean cloth is applied so that it can be used at any time.

Well, here's a job.

Kneeling with his back to Lucru, he opens the bag he was holding while pretending to be checking the table.

Only the girl's and the contents are clean and tidy.

I found a pen and a note from there and borrowed it.

Break the bottom half of the note, the top half to your own pocket.

I ran the pen quickly on the remaining pieces of paper and returned what I borrowed to my bag like nothing had happened.

All right, now we're ready.

I stand up, turn to Lucru and make the call.

"Where do you usually sit?

It was towards the right window that Lucru, with his suspicious expression, pointed to.

After all, yes, what a shame to say. Exhaling a sigh, he turned up the cross of the position indicated by Lucru in great esteem.

and one piece of paper falls apart so that it is stirred by its wind pressure.

"Oh? There's something under the tablecloth--"

The lukle that picked it up screams briefly.

And he grabbed his arm softly as he moved his neck around so busily to be vigilant.

"It's the identity of the bad signs I felt. Looks like it's for you."

"Duh, how did you know? This is my seat..."

The only piece of paper that the hyperventilating lukle had was a piece of paper that said 'Enjoy this time now'.

"I told you, I felt a bad sign. Do you have any idea who the sender is?

"Oh, there isn't. Yo! This... ah, so, but this paper...!

Lucru fishes inside when he snaps a bag from me and takes out a note.

Comparing it to a piece of paper, he eventually began to tremble his lips with a mess.

"It's the same thing I usually use. That means…"

"So you're someone close enough to know that, or you've been seen from time to time. Maybe I'm still somewhere --"

Greater power to grab Lucru's arm.

I held her shoulder to calm her down, and instead of having to be shaken off this time, she was starting to keep her weight from the other side.

Ugh, and exhale small.

I became a fictional friend and Lucru himself created a fictional Phantom.

Now the second obstacle is clear.

It's how much Phantom will do the job later, but that will depend on what happens from now on.

Come on, let's try one more thing.