"…and just as we were about to slay the slimy rascal, Captain money-lovin' Bradley goes, 'Careful with the head, we can get a boatload of money for the oil inside in Scale market,'" went a feminine voice, loaded with the gusto and enthusiasm of a spontaneous storyteller.
A little boy laughed at the female scout's impersonation of the Scout Captain, "Does Bradley really love money THAT much?"
"You have no idea, princeling. Now, stay quiet so I can finish…
Hearing my genius captain's orders, I adjusted the path of my lance to the Terror Newt's neck. Putting my core and flames into it, I executed one of the most skilful cuts of my generation, not to brag… but my lance does pack a punch."
"It really does. I haven't seen anyone other than Captain Bradley fully block it and stay standing. Was that it enough though? To cut through the Terror Newt's hide…" the white-haired boy tilted his head with confusion.
Was he missing something?
