Thomas signalled his workers. "From this moment on, the pool area and the submerged bar are restricted. Access is granted only to those who purchase Monarch's Gin. If you want the water, you pay the premium."
By restricting the pool to the "Gin Tier," Thomas had successfully turned a simple amenity into a status symbol.
He watched from his throne as the ten newcomers scrambled to exchange their soul-fragments for the premium black-and-gold chips. They weren't just paying for the alcohol; they were paying for the right to lounge in the waist-deep cooling waters of the oasis.
The profit margins were clear. These ten, caught up in the novelty of the submerged bar, had spent over 1,500 crystals in a fraction of the time his previous customers had.
They drank with a frantic, joyful energy, though their conversations remained frustratingly shallow—mostly boasts about their real-world exploits and awe at the ship's architecture.
