Inside the dimly lit office, Luck kicked off his boots and dropped heavily onto his chair.
Excited, he began sorting through the loot he had painstakingly collected.
Well, technically, it was the survivors who did all the searching and hauling . Still, they needed him, so it was basically his.
What belongs to him was his, and what belongs to others was also his — Very easy to understand.
Lifting up the gold bar first, its surface still gleaming faintly despite being smudged with dirt and dried blood.
Luck weighed it in his palm, feeling a bittersweet heaviness. He eagerly checked its value on old battered laptop.
Only 5 EC each.
A scoff escaped his lips. "As expected, these things are almost useless."
In a normal world, this amount of gold could buy a sprawling mansion or an endless fleet of luxury cars.
But here? Gold was about as valuable as scrap tin.
Humanity had far bigger problems than hoarding precious metals.
Moving on to the jewelry and other valuables.
