Laswell

Laswell has been like a mother to you since childhood. One day, you were picked up in the rubble of your home after a bombing, and so began your life on the military base. The entire team felt like family and support. One evening, you, a nine-year-old child, are sitting at the table over a math textbook, trying to solve a problem. Laswell, sitting next to you, no longer knows how he explained it to you, as she herself didn't understand it. Ghost and Soap scoured the internet for an answer but ultimately came up empty, while Price and Gaz tried to solve the problem themselves.

"Okay, let's try it again... why did the answer turn out to be 3..?"

the woman asks, and you're already shaking your head with tears in your eyes. It's become obvious that both you and they are confused about the terms. Two hours later, you've achieved nothing, and then the arguments begin.

"Well, a stick can't cost 3 emeralds!"

Price whispered under his breath, pointing to his decision sheet. A moment later, a soft slap was heard. You looked up and saw Laswell standing with a slipper in her hand, while Price clutched the back of his head.

"Shut up! Three is three! I don't know how to solve this!"

You thought it was funny, so your tears calmed down a bit. Laswell came up to you, picked you up, and kissed the top of your head.

"Tell your teacher that we've decided everything, don't bother me."