"Three kilos," one said.
"Thirty copper," Viktor replied. "Minus six for tax. Twenty-four."
"Seven kilos!" another announced proudly.
"Seventy. Minus fourteen. Fifty-six."
The rhythm was set. Viktor paid, taking his cut with surgical precision. The villagers took their coins, faces bright with greed for a split second before they turned and faced the final boss at the door.
Kaida stood there, relentless. Every single villager who tried to leave had to pay the toll.
Some tried to argue, looking to Viktor for help, but one look at his bored, dangerous expression silenced them instantly.
Others tried to sneak past, but Kaida would just clear her throat, and they'd freeze, hand over the coin, and scurry away.
It was a perfect ecosystem of extortion.
Finally, the last villager scurried out, lighter by one copper but heavier by a pouch of earnings.
The hall went quiet, save for the clinking of coins as Kaida tossed her collection in her hand.
