The rhythmic clink-clink-clink of coins hitting the overflowing strongbox beneath the arena stand was a sweeter melody to Eamond than any bard's tune, yet it held an undercurrent of disbelief.
He stared, not for the first time that morning, at the system projection hovering discreetly near his elbow. The numbers pulsed with an almost aggressive vitality, mocking his initial anxieties.
Revenue (Arena Stand): 41 Silver, 17 Bronze
Projected Daily Revenue: 85 Silver+
Revenue (Commercial Stand): 39 Silver, 45 Bronze
Projected Daily Revenue: 70 Silver+
Overall Wealth: 120 Gold, 76 Silver, 00 Bronze (Up 1 Gold, 41 Silver in 3 days)
Emporium Traffic: +120% (Membership Inquiries: 28 | Private Orders Fulfilled: 35 |)
"It's... absurd," Eamond murmured, the sheer scale of the boom finally sinking past the initial rush.
He watched Jake, sleeves rolled up and sweat beading on his forehead, slide another tray of shimmering "Treasure Tarts" into the enchanted oven.
