It's plenty ironic that he's hiding things from these people, and he knows it. Not a one has turned up from his world, enough where he's even used his surname in a tiny handful of introductions where using a given name alone felt underwhelming. These people won't make the association that most in his world would jump to instantly at the slightest hint of the Donquixote name. They certainly can't even dream of the association that a limited few would make. His powers, too, are nothing that unusual and nothing to worry about displaying, but having spent the last few years hiding them, it comes as instinct to keep doing so. Were it not for the last few months on the run with Law, it would probably even feel strange to speak at all. Every time he had given Sengoku his updates he had felt hoarse afterward, and had begun to wonder if a person could lose the ability to speak by neglecting it for so long.

Here, he'll rebuild himself, and she can too. Whatever she's hiding from, it probably isn't here. He hopes not. She looks too young to have to live in that constant state of fear.

"Yeah, well. That network is probably a good place to start. Do you have something like that where you're from?" he asks as he picks his way carefully down the remainder of the stairs until he's blissfully reached the floor. Flat ground! As if that can protect him from his particular feud with stable footing.

((oh no how many typos can I spot in my last tag, good lord))