I stepped forward, my gaze cutting through the group of pale-faced locals huddled in the courtyard.
"Who knows the Mopan Ridge roads best?"
My voice cut through the chaos, sharp and unyielding.
A swarthy, wiry middle-aged man looked up instinctively.
"I do! But the roads right now—"
I didn’t let him finish, cutting him off clean.
"Pull up your payment QR code."
"Huh?"
The man froze, dumbfounded.
A monk rushed forward, anxious.
"Miss Lisa, now isn’t the time for—"
"Do it!"
My eyes blazed like knives, pinning the man in place.
Intimidated, he fumbled for his phone, pulling up the code clumsily.
I scanned it with mine.
Beep!
A crisp payment confirmation chime rang out.
The man glanced at his screen, his pupils blowing wide.
"Ten... twenty thousand?!"
His voice cracked, and
