We had the coins. Actual, hard-earned, blood-sweat-and-I-committed-several-monster-war-crimes coins. Which meant, unfortunately, we had to do something responsible with it. Tragic. Absolutely tragic.
So there I was. Standing in front of Fiona. Holding fifty thousand tower coins like they were my children. My savings. My future. My emotional support fund.
"Here," I said, voice already strained, like I was signing away custody.
Fiona didn't even hesitate. Of course she didn't. Businesswoman. Shark. Predator of financially unstable adventurers.
She took it.
Just like that.
Gone.
Transferred.
Vanished into the system like it never existed.
I swear I felt something leave my soul.
But then...then...she opened her mouth like she was about to say something. Probably something like "additional fees" or "processing costs" or "oh by the way breathing inside Floor 20 is taxed"
....I didn't stay long enough to find out.
"Nope," I said immediately.
