After a while, a dialog box cautiously popped up on the screen.
Vodka: [How about this? As compensation for kicking you out back then, I'll give you one Uzo Coin. You can choose the design.]
Here it came.
Curacao wasn't surprised by the proposal, only by the number—Vodka was far too stingy. Was she that easy to fob off?
She demanded an exorbitant price and typed with restrained dignity: [Five.]
On the other side, Vodka let out a long breath, and her danger rating dropped once again. Great, she was still interested in Uzo Coins. That meant the Passerby Mutual Aid Association and the intelligence within it still held value in Curacao's eyes.
And that meant that when she'd been trapped in the elevator at noon, Uzo really hadn't tampered with her phone or discovered the little program on it that couldn't be shown to Uzo.
Come to think of it, that made sense. Curacao was an intelligence operative—how could she not understand the importance of a phone? Even in that situation, she would surely have protected it, thereby indirectly protecting the Passerby Mutual Aid Association.
Having sorted out the general situation, Vodka relaxed considerably.
He casually bargained: [Two, then. And tell me about today's case while you're at it.]
Curacao: "..." What was he thinking? Intelligence came at a separate price.
After some back-and-forth, they settled on three Uzo Coins.
Besides writing off the matter of being kicked out, the deal also included a rough piece of intelligence from Curacao.
Vodka didn't feel the slightest heartache over giving away three Uzo Coins. Not because they were merely virtual tokens, but because he had complete faith in Curacao's gambling skills—he only needed to open a few more betting rounds, and before long, all those Uzo Coins would return to his