Jax's face transformed instantly; the gossiping informant vanished, replaced by a man who looked like he was facing a firing squad. Thomas shot him a brief, blaming look, silently judging the clerk's lack of backbone.
"Sign your name here and give me your badge. I need to record the serial numbers and the department authorisation," she said, slapping the papers onto a small wooden table.
Thomas leaned over the documents. The contract was surprisingly straightforward. The rent was set at two Niks per month—a pittance compared to the prices Jax had mentioned earlier. With the superhero discount, he was essentially living for the price of a few good meals.
The signing took only a few minutes. She meticulously copied the sequence of numbers from the back of his SA badge, her handwriting sharp and precise.
"Let me get the keys and show you the actual unit," she grumbled, disappearing once more. She returned seconds later with a heavy iron ring jingling with a dozen keys.
