This whole world was strange. Not having to look over his shoulder every moment, not having to worry about the world as a whole. Not trying to usurp an unjust government on top of all of that. It was a strange thing for a soldier, especially someone from the underground such as Levi. Someone who had lived his early years as a thug, son of a prostitute and essentially a mob boss. His mother had abandoned him early on, from what Levi knew, leaving him with Kenny the Ripper. But none of that affected Levi. He was a fighter, trained and well-toned, and that's what he was going to keep on doing for as long as he could: fight.
When Damien had taken him to Chicago, Levi had been on edge. He couldn't sit with his gear strapped on in the car, so the gas canisters had been shifted to the other side of the car itself. He let Damien do the research, not much interested in it himself. Oh, that wasn't to say he didn't understand it. But Levi usually was the one who acted, while letting someone else formulate a plan. Every plan he'd been involved in had been someone else's, and he was sent to the forefront to attack. That's what he was most skilled at doing, after all.
"I can't say how a monster would think," admitted Levi coolly, "but I do know that this certainly looks suspicious. And if it involves killing them, then lead the way." Straight forward, simple and to the point for the most part. That was Levi. With a hint of sarcasm and wit on top.