[ this has to be the most earnest way anyone has ever asked him these things... she's disarming, in her straightforwardness and eagerness. He sighs, half under his breath. ]

You're correct, but I'm not protecting someone on the train. [ Though he can't say much more than that, he thinks. Idly, he wonders, if everyone is truly from these separate "worlds," if it's really a security breach to tell anyone anything, but better safe than sorry, he supposes. ] And I can't use "magic," either.

[ as in like, shooting laser beams from his hands, which is what he imagines as magic?? nonetheless, he feels like he can't just say: i'm unarmed, i can't do magic, but yes i'm still a bodyguard without raising some kind of suspicion. ]

Though I suppose that depends on what you consider "magic." That's something that exists where you come from?