Bible historians have deduced that approximate date due to context clues. Not all of them agree on the exact date, but that's the average of all the estimates I've found.

A common misconception is that AD stands for After Death, meaning after the death of Christ, but it actually stands for Anno Domini, a Latin phrase that translates to "the year of our Lord". Thus, Christ was born in the year 1 AD. He died in the year 33 AD. Though his actual birthday was April 6, not December 25.

"I don't understand," Michael said, with the look of utter bewilderment on his face. "I thought you hated me."

"Hate you?" I laughed. "I hate a lot of things, but I don't hate you. I've actually grown quite fond of you."

Michael raised his eyebrows.

"I'm serious," I said, wrapping a blanket around him. "I'm not heartless. I just use unorthodox methods of getting what I want."

"Like stealing and destruction of property?"

"Hey, I only do that to people who can afford it," I said. "Ever wonder why none of my targets are small businesses or individual houses?"

"You know, I never realized that," Michael admitted, "but I suppose that's true."

"You see, you and I, we're not really all that different. We both want the same thing. We just have different methods of trying to get it."

"What do you mean?"

"You want to put an end to poverty, right?"

"Yeah, I do," Michael said.

"Well, so do I," I said, sitting next to him. "Your methods are just more diplomatic than I feel is realistically effective."

"How are your methods more effective than mine?" Michael raised an eyebrow.

"You always assume the best in everyone," I said. "An admirable trait, no doubt about it. It's one of the reasons I've taken a liking to you. But the truth is, all the rich CEOs don't care about the people who hold up signs and sign petitions. They are completely aware of the harm their actions are causing, and they just don't care. All they care about is money. No amount of politely asking is going to convince them to pay their workers more, improve the working conditions, or stop throwing away perfectly good products to create artificial scarcity so they can charge higher prices. They literally don't care."

Michael sat in thought.

"What I'm doing is certainly not fixing the problem," I acknowledged, "but at least what I'm doing is accomplishing something. The world may paint me as a villain, but I see myself as more of a Robin Hood type. Robbing the rich to feed the poor. Illegal, yes. But the law favors the wealthy. The wealthy get elected, the wealthy make the laws, and the wealthy can bribe whoever they need to in order to be above the laws. In order to actually fix this issue, you have to work outside the law."

"That... actually makes sense," Michael said, nodding thoughtfully. "But you must realize that the more you overtly do that, the more the media will paint them as the victims. They're making you out to be some sort of domestic terrorist.

"I know," I said. "And I don't really care. The media can sling as much mud as they want at me. I care more about actually making a difference than I do about my reputation. Besides, who do you think owns the media in the first place?"

"Touché."

"Yeah. Money is power. The more money you have, the greater power you have to sway the minds of the people."

"Well, I do have one anonymous wealthy donor that's been consistently contributing to my fundraisers," Michael said.

"Who do you think that is?" I flashed a grin.

"That was you?" Michael's eyes widened.

"Yep," I said. "Not many people would knowingly accept stolen money. But you're the only person I trust wouldn't keep 90% of donations to themselves."

"That's, I mean, wow," Michael said, shaking his head in amazement.

"Who did you expect it was? The Michaelsoft Binbows guy?"

Michael laughed.

"Anyways, I've been helping you out more than you realize," I said, putting an arm around him. "Even though you've been trying to undermine my antics since the day you started hearing about me. I knew you were only trying to stop me because your heart was just too pure to realize that there's no legal way to fix the massive inequality in this world."

"Why didn't you talk to me about this earlier?"

"You never really gave me a chance to talk," I said. "The only way I saw that I'd have been able to talk to you one on one is if I kidnapped you or something. And I didn't really want to put you through that kind of traumatic experience just for the chance to speak my mind. So I just didn't."

"I suppose that's a fair assessment," Michael said, nodding.

"I don't want to risk tarnishing your reputation by asking you to join me or anything," I said. "I don't want them raking your name through the mud with mine. But if you ever need my help again, I'd be glad to offer you my assistance from the shadows."

"I might take you up on that offer," Michael said with a smile. "And, if you ever want a place to hang out where people aren't, you know, trying to kill you, you could come over to my place. I've got lots of board games to annihilate you with."

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