"You make it sound like getting an SS or SSS is a matter of money. Only a few exist!" Yuna countered.
"In America, dear... But globally? Eh..."
Another page turned on his desk, leisurely, a man in no hurry at all.
"Here's the part nobody will say to your face, so I will, because unlike your new friends, I've never lied to you about the business. If Crimson Dominion wants raw potential, they will no longer shop domestic. The agencies are salivating at the mere thought of pulling SS-tier prospects out of the African famine belts as we speak. Some illiterate shit-eater from a village with no plumbing, ten thousand years of evolution spent sprinting from lions in a loincloth, and then the mana rolls the dice and decides he, of all creatures, is the future of combat."
