Automatic Hunting (1)

“Head Mod?”

The shabbily dressed boy looked up at me and spoke.

The moment I heard those words, I froze.

‘How did he know?’

Should I pretend I hadn't heard him, even now?

Or should I ask him how he knew?

If he knew for certain and had said it deliberately, I was in trouble.

I was just wondering whether I should take out my shotgun and stand guard when—

“Ah... thank you...”

The boy began wolfing down the canned tuna as though nothing had happened...