[Household Ledger: ¥12,450] [Projected Burn Rate: 4 Days.] [Status: Actively depreciating.]
Yuto sat at the cheap plastic table in the center of the apartment, staring at a piece of folded paper as if it were a high-level mimic about to bite his face off.
"Master," Shion whispered, peeking over his shoulder. "What is that terrifying document? Does it carry a curse?"
"Worse," Yuto rasped, his eye twitching. "It's the electric bill."
Rin set a plate of sliced apples on the table, looking amused. "Yuto, we have lights now. And a refrigerator. You have to pay for the electricity."
"I own the building!" Yuto protested, gesturing wildly. "I assimilated the deed! Why am I paying the city for electrons? And look at this—what is a 'Grid Delivery Surcharge'? They're charging me money to deliver the thing they're already charging me for!"
Isabella leaned against the wall, sipping a glass of tap water. "So, we fight the city? Give the word, Yuto. Kurenai and I can dismantle their power plant before lunch."
"We can't dismantle the power plant, Isabella, because then our refrigerator stops working and the milk spoils," Yuto rubbed his temples. "Spoiled milk is a negative asset. No, we can't fight this with violence. We are bleeding fiat currency. We need positive cash flow. We need... jobs."
The word hung in the air like a foul odor.
"A job," Ayase mused, sitting in perfect seiza posture on the floor. She slowly drew her katana, inspecting the edge. "Very well. Point me toward the local Daimyo. I shall serve as his executioner. My rates are reasonable, provided I am allowed to keep the armor of the fallen."
"You can't execute people, Ayase," Rin gently corrected. "That's illegal here."
"I could return to the scrapyard!" Kurenai beamed, flexing a bicep that could crush a bowling ball. "The foreman said if I crush ten cars an hour, he'll give me dental insurance!"
"Kurenai has the right idea," Yuto said, picking up a newspaper he had salvaged from the recycling bin downstairs. He turned to the classifieds. "We need low-overhead, high-margin employment. Shion, you're on tech support. You literally speak binary. Isabella... you're a gladiator. You can do private security or bouncer work. Ayase... maybe a high-end sushi chef? Just don't threaten the customers."
"And you, Master?" Shion asked, floating upside down. "What class of labor suits the man who bankrupted God?"
Yuto circled an ad in red ink with a terrifying, hollow smile.
"I'm going into collections."