My Infinite Investment System

Stolen paper towels disintegrated around Jun’s hands before Ryan reached the Bronze counter.

The city guild office smelled of burnt coffee, floor polish, and warm toner from six printers losing the same argument.

Applicants filled every plastic chair beneath a screen promising an eighteen-minute wait, while the ticket in his hand estimated fifty-two.

The striker read the number over his shoulder and said, "Love that the screen has dreams."

Nia placed the folded shield between her boots, looked at the water dripping from Jun’s route shoes, then said, "Those boots survive gates, the floor may sue."

The scout moved one foot onto a dry tile and replied, "The building chose white flooring during rain season."

"A confession would have been shorter."

Ryan turned the Bronze Token inside his palm, its branching-path stamp had remained warm since the tunnel.

Submitting it could upgrade one E-rank contract reward, yet Northstar needed Bronze status before the office would release those contracts.

The token had given him a valuable key to a door guarded by paperwork, fluorescent lighting, and people paid to say next.

’I have infinite money for potential,’ he thought, checking his personal balance from habit, ’the universe made bureaucracy free.’

His phone still showed nine hundred dollars and seventeen cents, which removed vending-machine coffee from consideration after one look at its price.

She noticed his attention, slid a wrapped sesame bar onto the clipboard, then watched the queue display as she murmured, "Guild operating expense."

He opened the wrapper beneath the board and replied, "I was preparing a principled objection."

"Prepare it while chewing."

Jun watched him split the bar into four uneven pieces, then chose the smallest before anyone could assign it.

Nia exchanged her larger piece for his without comment, her fingers returned to the shield strap before he could protest.

Ticket B-117 flashed over Counter Four, and Ryan stood before noticing their number remained B-104 on his paper slip.

He sat again. The clipboard edge received his full attention until it aligned with the grout between two scratched floor tiles.

’Nobody saw that,’ he thought as Mika looked directly at his hand, ’excellent, private humiliation preserved.’

The glass doors opened for a line of Apex employees wearing silver permit lanyards.

They bypassed the ticket machine and crossed toward the commercial desk with rolling cases stamped by three sponsor logos.

Bartek led them in the same navy suit he wore whenever somebody else expected consequences.

His beard had gained a cleaner edge since the firing, while his stomach pressed harder against the button Ryan once warned him to replace.

Priya followed with two permit crates against her narrow hip, her dark braid lay over one shoulder beside a new Apex badge.

She saw him before Bartek did, her step shortened as one crate tilted, then she corrected both without looking above his repaired shoes.

Bartek followed the movement and found Northstar occupying four public chairs.

Recognition changed his mouth first.

He handed off his case, adjusted both cuffs, then stopped beside the token in Ryan’s hand and said, "Keller, I heard you started a publicity stunt."

He held the warm disk between two fingers and replied, "Guild."

The former manager glanced at the hot-pink crest and asked, "Already using the word officially?"

She leaned forward with both elbows on her knees and said, "The city used it first, we got a plaque and everything."

Priya lowered the permit crates too carefully, lined up every edge, then read the blank side of a form and said, "Field status requires trial certification."

"Useful," he replied, watching her choose the paper over his face, "thank you."

Her fingers stopped on the page as she thought, ’He thanked me, that is worse, I should have looked up in the lobby.’

He hooked one thumb beneath his Apex lanyard and said, "A nightclub passing fire inspection does not make a combat guild."

The bulwark stayed seated with both hands across her shield and said, "The C-rank butcher died inside a warehouse, fire inspection happened later."

His gaze moved across the four of them before settling on Ryan, then he said, "You attached yourself to a retired streamer and a failed scout."

Jun lifted his phone toward the man’s badge and asked, "Would you like the correction posted under your full title?"

Bartek looked at the dark camera lens, then shifted half a step out of its clean angle.

She trapped a laugh behind pressed lips as nearby phones rose, then stood with her public smile and said, "Let’s help with the record."

One finger rose for each clear as she added, "Then a sealed transit tunnel, wire-mite extraction, plus the route your city map forgot existed."

The Bronze counter clerk stopped typing and looked over the top of her monitor.

The striker opened Northstar’s record, held it beside the Apex permits, then said, "Five official clears or rescues in nine days, what did his blacklist predict?"

Bartek pressed his tongue against one cheek, the motion spoiled the neutral expression he was building.

Ryan said nothing.

The silence cost him less than defending himself, while every verified stamp glowed blue on Mika’s screen without help from his voice.

{ratking_09: she brought receipts to city hall}

The comment appeared on a nearby applicant’s stream, followed by a burst of laughing reactions that reflected across the glass counter.

Priya turned one Apex permit facedown before its clinic routing code reached the cameras.

Ryan caught the movement.

She had hidden company paperwork from him before, yet this time her hand trembled after it covered the number.

Bartek noticed him watching, stepped between the permit crate and Northstar, then flattened his palm on the counter and said, "Some teams meet reality late."

The clerk looked at the hand occupying her workspace and said, "Sir, remove that before reality becomes security."

Mika covered her mouth with two fingers, leaving her eyes wide for the nearest camera.

His palm disappeared as Ticket B-104 flashed above Counter Two.

He stood with the clipboard beneath one arm and said, "That one is ours."

The clerk at Counter Two scanned Northstar’s registration, Jun’s probation form, Nia’s core certification, plus Mika’s renewed medical clearance.

She extended an open palm across the reader for the Bronze Token.

He placed it against the reader, and the branching mark lit beneath his fingers.

[Bronze Token submitted]

[Eligible use: Upgrade first E-rank contract reward]

The clerk saw only the city confirmation, tilted her monitor toward him, then said, "Token accepted, complete the trial to raise your first E-rank reward."

She bent close to the screen and asked, "Which bracket has the least paperwork?"

"All of them have identical paperwork."

She pressed her lips into a deliberate pout and replied, "I asked for hope, you gave me government."

One corner of the clerk’s mouth moved before she hid it behind the monitor.

Bartek returned to the commercial desk while Priya processed his silver permits.

His administrator access remained active on the shared assignment board.

Ryan watched a navy sleeve reach across the terminal, followed by three quiet taps against the bracket list.

Northstar’s trial slot changed from **Bronze Standard 6** to **Bronze Advanced 1**.

The clerk opened the hazard notes, frowned at the new assignment, then said, "That bracket is for established teams seeking accelerated promotion."

Ryan looked toward the commercial counter and found Bartek watching him over Priya’s lowered head.

She rose with the shield balanced against her shoulder and asked, "Can it be changed?"

The clerk tried the field, showed them the gray lock icon, then said, "Administrative placement, selection is final after token submission."

Jun photographed the screen with the assignment code visible and said, "Convenient timing."

The former manager collected his permits, recovered the professional curve he used in termination meetings, then said, "Reality arrived early."

Mika read the hazard list aloud, shifting walls, live constructs, route penalties, plus a sleeping boss, and her performance smile vanished.

She set the shield edge against the tile and asked, "Entry time?"

"Tomorrow at eight," the clerk replied, printing four black wristbands, "hardest Bronze bracket in the building."

Ryan took the bands while Bartek walked through the priority exit.

The warm Token mark faded from the reader, and **Bronze Advanced 1** locked across Northstar’s registration.