"Desa Rothschild Langer, Desa is from my mother, Rothschild is from my father, they hope I inherit all their virtues."
"Porter, uh, that's not your real name, is it?"
"Of course not. What about you, buddy?"
"Vatare Ellison, you can call me Ellison."
"Naveen."
"Yodel, no last name, doesn't count as a real name?"
"As long as it's not the name you were born with."
"The family that adopted me when I was six gave it to me."
"Then it doesn't matter."
The people gathered in the empty classroom, then realized everyone was here.
They certainly didn't think all 10 people passed.
So, was it all a failure, or would the answer be revealed here?
The ten fell into a wait more agonizing than last night's, but the talkative Desa Rothschild Langer somewhat eased the agitation and tensions brought by the blood-red beams.
A few minutes later, they heard conversations coming from the corridor outside the classroom.
"You really don't need a personal maid..."
Click.
