Equivalent Exchange(?) [Salvage]

[Kaitou Nagano]

"Junk for cash, huh..."

Hanako tipped Kaitou off about a neat little junkyard that would accept any offering and return a generous sum of cash in return. While the heir to the Nagano Group was hardly scraping for Yen, the fact remained that their supplies were not inexhaustible while they were cut off from the rest of the world. Best to catch a good deal whenever he could.

So he decided to do just that, hauling in some old weapons from the dojo as well as a few indescribable artifacts he'd looted from the Shadows he had slain. The blonde woman behind the counter hardly looked like the type for idle chatter, which was a relief. A junkyard wasn't really the kind of place where Kaitou saw himself talking about the weather.

Especially weather as crappy and glum as the Outer Circle's.

[Erithania]

Behold!



Money.

[Kaitou Nagano]

Another week, another haul. This time, Kaitou was lugging half of a dented metal cannon over his shoulders-- the last memento of the near-death experience he'd had earlier in the week. Part of him wanted to keep the damn thing and place it on his wall as a trophy to tell stories about in the decades to come, but the more practical parts of his brain kicked him in the back of the head and told him to pawn it off immediately.

So there he was, standing in the middle of the exchange corner with a big red tank cannon in his arms. With little hesitation, he dropped the whole thing on the counter with a heavy thud.

Time for some moolah.

[Erithania]

Oh hi.



Moneeeeey.

[Kaitou Nagano]

Saturdays were quickly becoming Kaitou's garbage days. This week's spoils junk consisted of a sack's worth of oddly glowing metal scraps he'd found at the airport and some odd gems. They didn't seem to interest any of the pawn shops in the city, so off to the Gap they went. Although the heir felt strange hauling a potato sack over his shoulder across town, it was certainly less awkward than hefting a tank turret through the streets. In any case, no one seemed to make a fuss over the spectacle.

All that was left to do was hurl the sack over the counter and wait for some money to fly at his face.

[ChromaticTruthsayer]

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