Kurt sat on an overturned crate in Zaza's warehouse as he stared at the numbers scrawled across his datapad.
One hundred and twenty million credits. That was the haul from Braun's loot houses. That was more money than he'd seen in his entire amnesiac life, probably more than he'd seen before it too.
The problem was, it looked like a lot until you started spending it.
He dragged on his lit cigarette and pulled up the guild registration requirements he'd been studying for the past three hours.
The Dungeon Authority didn't make climbing the ranks easy, and every box that needed checking came with a price tag that made his head hurt.
Take C-rank certification as a baseline. Simple enough on paper.
The registration fee alone was five million credits just to get the bloody certificate. That was before you got to the fun part: the annual maintenance fee of one million credits per year, which was basically the D.A.'s way of taxing guilds to keep their bureaucratic machine running.
