Son compartido

Akira stood there, eyes practically glued to the price tag, blinking in disbelief. He was holding a solid gold watch—the kind of piece he couldn't have afforded in ten lifetimes at his old "black company." Now, it was just sitting in his palm. Kencho, not to be outdone, dug up another one. We’re not talking six figures here; this thing was pushing eight figures. The two of them decked themselves out in designer labels, looking slick and glossy from head to toe, and struck a pose for a photo to m