By the time the meeting wrapped up, my brain felt like it had been folded, unfolded, and then politely stepped on.
But apparently, we won.
Or… didn't lose. Which, honestly, in a room like that, counts as a victory.
Fiona gave the green light, finally leaning back in her chair like she'd just approved something mildly dangerous and was okay with it.
"The west sector of Floor 20 will be allocated to Zethara," she said. "Enough space for three infrastructures. Blacksmithing, potion production, and your proposed medical facility."
I blinked.
West sector.
That sounded… big.
Like, not just "set up a stall" big. More like "congratulations, you now exist here whether people like it or not" big.
Then she kept talking.
"There will be a weekly rent of fifty thousand tower coins."
I almost choked again.
Fifty.
Thousand.
Per week.
Per WEEK.
I turned my head slowly toward Cazash, waiting for him to laugh. Or blink. Or at least twitch.
He didn't.
Of course he didn't.
