One hundred million Star Coins.
Back on Aethel, Sophie Wexler had been a national superstar, and the total royalties from her songs surely exceeded this figure.
But that income had never come all at once. A sum counted in the hundreds of millions was something she had never even imagined.
'It's not like the currency in the Galaxy is worthless. It's comparable to the Valerian currency back on Aethel. So how could he toss out a number like that so casually?'
When Sophie Wexler remained silent long after he had spoken, Felix York assumed the amount he offered wasn't enough. He pursed his lips, pondering.
'What Sophie Wexler offers is mass-scale soothing. This amount is admittedly a bit low, but it's all we can offer after accounting for the Seventh Legion's daily expenses.'
"If Miss Wexler thinks it's too low, I can add more." Felix York gritted his teeth. If worst came to worst, he would just have to cut spending in other areas.
