In the final class of the semester, Idiot sat on a stool beside the blackboard, cradling Bread in his arms. He tilted his head, pondering the dilemma he currently faced.
"How long will it take to make a thousand gold coins? Even selling my organs wouldn't cut it. But what if I don't earn it, but rather steal it, or rob it?"
(Quilin Lundy: Class, today marks the end of your first semester. So... I need y'all to quiet down!)
"Hmm, stealing, or robbing, doesn't sound bad. The City of Windblown Sand, unlike Senag, is wealthy. People there are flush with cash and less alert. A real chance to make a move."
(Quilin Lundy: Alright, let's get to grips with the concept of a 'mission'... Damn it, which little bastard threw that eraser? Stand up! Stand the hell up!)
